Blog Mamas

Bad Parents

2007-09-27T13:59:00.000-07:00

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?

2007-09-15T11:24:00.000-07:00

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

2007-08-18T21:35:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-31T22:25:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-03T14:56:00.000-07:00

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?

2007-07-01T21:05:00.000-07:00

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!

2007-06-25T20:33:00.000-07:00

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

2007-06-08T09:47:00.000-07:00

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!

2007-06-03T19:47:00.000-07:00

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!

2007-05-31T20:10:00.001-07:00

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

2007-05-27T22:04:00.000-07:00

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

2007-05-24T09:36:00.000-07:00

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

2007-05-18T15:11:00.000-07:00

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

2007-05-17T22:52:00.001-07:00

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

2007-05-11T12:13:00.000-07:00

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?

2007-05-10T13:10:00.000-07:00

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.

2007-04-18T12:34:00.000-07:00

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

2007-01-07T20:15:00.000-08:00

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!

Power Struggle

2006-12-23T22:43:00.000-08:00

I recently called BlogMama to propose a topic for her personal blog gratitude365… electricity.

Probably not at the top of your thanksgiving list, but I know over one million people here in the Pacific Northwest have a newfound appreciation for the juice that fuels our overhead lights, garage door openers and furnaces (and a whole slew of other luxuries). While many homes in the greater Seattle area had power restored one, two or three days after the wild wind storm the night of December 14th, we were among the unfortunate few who waited eight days in the dark and cold. Okay, we didn't exactly wait all eight days - the last two nights we stayed in a hotel, but even during those two days the trips home to pick up necessities were chilly and dim.

Living without power has many similarities to camping so the first day or two it was almost fun. During our "camping adventure" we relied heavily on our small woodstove. We used it for heat (the uneven temperatures were frustrating at times), for cooking necessities such as grilled cheese sandwiches and cowboy coffee (water and grounds thrown together into a saucepan and heated to almost boiling), and for entertainment ("Dancing Flames: the Mini-series").

But while I imagined I was Laura Ingalls-Wilder at first, I quickly tired of hauling wood and stoking fires. Those oh-so-important daily toddler routines became impossible and Jeep's moods swung wildly. We tried to be grateful knowing there are so many tougher challenges in life, but patience ran thin all around. The hard-to-penetrate-darkness was the hardest blow for me personally and I felt completely exhausted by 7:30 or 8:00 each night.

This brief challenge brought great respect for pioneers and people who suffer through disasters with losses much greater than the food in a fridge. I am ever so slightly more aware of what is truly important in life (the answer is people, not clean laundry - although clean laundry is very, very nice) and also a tiny bit more aware of all that we take for granted in our easy, electric lives. That being said, the moment the electricity came back on I ran around the house, flipped on every light, turned on the TV, played the radio, cranked up the heat, started the laundry and ran the dishwasher. Ah, the power of power!

Green Nails

2006-12-04T18:46:00.000-08:00

As more and more of my friends, neighbors, colleagues and associates announce that they are happily expecting, I've been been reflecting on being pregnant. I've decided that my pregnancy was a hike in the gently rolling hills while motherhood is a rock-climbing adventure. In my very-average pregnancy I experienced physical, mental, emotional and spiritual changes that were life-altering, but they happened more gradually than the changes motherhood throws my way.

It is true that pregnancy offers many uncontrollable aspects (Is it a boy or girl? When and how will I go into labor?) but the baby on the inside was a little easier to control than the baby on the outside. Not that Jeep is harder or easier than your average 17 month year old. But when he was inside, even though I couldn't make him eat or sleep or play happily by himself "for a couple of minutes so Mama can go to the bathroom," it didn't really matter because he was inside and I could usually manage to eat or sleep or go to the bathroom in peace. Of course I knew that once my baby arrived I wouldn't be able to eat or sleep or use the bathroom the same way I did before. But having a child has changed the way I do those things as well as every single other thing in my life. And at the same time that I'm trying to operate my life in a whole new way, I'm in an intense relationship with a fascinating person who changes even more quickly than I do - my son.

Today when I picked Jeeper up from his Montessori school, I noticed that he had splotches of green on his hands and under his fingernails. I got a lump in my throat because that green paint residue was a quick and clear reminder that he isn't a baby anymore. He walks and runs and talks on the phone and plays jokes and operates the velcro on his shoes and expresses himself creatively with art supplies. Sure he still wears diapers, nurses and cries sometimes, but make no mistake, he is rappelling his way right into kid-town. And I'm just along for the wonderful and wild ride.

Play dates and friendships to last a lifetime

2006-11-27T09:25:00.000-08:00

This past Thanksgiving was wonderful. We had family in town for part of the week and then went to visit with my husband’s “adopted” family for an evening. His- now OUR, “adopted” family are folks that John has known since high school. He and his best friend, Mike played soccer together, went on double dates for school dances, house boat trips and even went to the same college. Our families are intertwined- so many of our best memories involve not only Mike, but his parents, siblings and other family members and now our children. My children even call Mike “tio” and his father, “papa”. Mike’s wife is our son’s godmother. What a gift for us all to have such an extended family.

I bring this all up because I wonder who will be that family for my kids. Who will be willing to pick them up and take them to camp? Who would be willing to give them rides to tournaments and amusement parks? Who will be willing to share the load of raising them and ensuring that they are compassionate, courageous and good citizens? Who will treat them like one of their own?

C has had three play date in the last few weeks, families that are great and all completely different. I wonder if I’ll be sharing margarita’s with any of these mom’s one day as our families camp for the week.

We’ve been fortunate to have a group of families with kids of similar ages that we share a lot of adventures with. But WE, the adults, chose each other. I joke about how we really like each other but are really simply insuring a future prom date for my son, by being friends with folks who have girls! It will be interesting to see whom my son and daughter choose as friends and which ones last a life time. It has been a gift for my husband and I and one, I hope, they will have the privilege of having as well.

Childhood Obsessions

2006-11-19T09:24:00.000-08:00

Sorry Ladies, for being so out of touch lately - started a new job that has been a shock to my family's system on many fronts - I'll blog about that later. Today I've been musing about my children's obsessions and how they have developed over the years. For my eldest, it started with anything Thomas the Train or Toy Story, then moved to dinosaurs, followed by anything Pokemon and Yu GiOh! . Lately it has anything to do with Star Wars, video games and soccer - the "three" most important things in the world to him. His obsessions have led me to do a crash course on the differences between dinosaurs, searching high and low for a train conductors hat and learning the finer points of purchasing soccer cleats. I think he is a collector at heart –even had a “dirty nail” collection, until I found it and had to quickly get rid of that one…

With my daughter, at the wise old age of 3 - going on 13, she has started briskly with anything Dora the Explorer. While, she loves anything having to do with the Little Einstein's, her latest obsession is anything with a PRINCESS! Wow, has Disney got our number!

She has a bathing suit that she loves – green with tule and sparkles (a gift from a family friend). “Very Princess-like” according to K. She LIVED in it ALL summer. I found it in the back of the closet yesterday. It’s straps were worn and it had some kind of punch or jello stain along the front. I was headed to the trash can, when K immediately saw me and asked to put it on. (It is like 55 degrees here in San Jose!) I relented, I guess that is why we have indoor heating.

So we were at church today and K needed to go to the bathroom; so what did I discover underneath her Sunday dress? You got it – the green bathing suit! Some obsessions never die.

I will miss them!

Determined

2006-11-12T20:54:00.000-08:00

What is that quality in someone where they are so set to get what they want that nothing stands in their way? Dogged determination is a phrase that comes to mind - and then I actually think of a dog in saying that. You know how a dog can just clamp his jaw down on something and not let go? Or think of a record, with a huge scratch, and the needle just keeps hitting that same phrase over and over (and over!) again. Yes, this is in reference to my child. My way of handling it? Distraction - no, the child looks at me like, "you've got to be kidding, mom" and just continues with the request, idea, desire, etc. Sometimes I do explain the situation, and why what he NEEDS at that very moment canot happen. Oh, this child has perfected the use of "I need to", "I have to", and all other forms of that same phrase, and has become adept at repeating the phrase over and over, all while I'm trying to talk to him. Very much akin to someone clamping their hands over their ears and yelling, "I can't hear you." while you're talking. Tonight it was about story-time. (Prior to what I'm sharing I had to spend 5 minutes repeatedly carrying him back to his bed after he'd scamper out and demand that he sleep in our bed.) Now, because he was not cooperating with getting his pajamas on, he was told very clearly that the consequence was no story. He knew that is what I had stated. However, he still saw fit to ask for, and then begin demanding that he get his story, no less than 10 times. I would think the issue was put to bed, so to speak, and I'd say 'goodnight', give him a kiss and leave the room. He'd call "mommy", I'd go back in and we'd repeat the same conversation. (I didn't go in the room 10 times, but he requested his story at least 3 - 4 times per visit.) I deal with his determination in some way, shape or form each and every day. It's not like I say "no" to something and he whines, or cries, or sulks - he just comes back at me, again, and again. I guess he's determined to break me? Or he's thinking, "oh, the answer was 'no' just a minute ago, but now it might be 'yes' - I best try again." I don't give in folks - really, I don't. If there are any jobs out there that are well-suited for this skill - please let me know. Maybe it's his way of closing out his 3rd year. It's been a doozy, folks, and maybe it's going out with a bang. I'm just praying that this situation, and so many others, gets better once he's 4. But, then I'll have a whole new bag of traits, skills, & tactics that come with being 4. Someday this trait of his will serve him well, but in the meantime, I best get some rest and get ready for whatever tomorrow, and his next year of development, will bring.

At Least Paper Ballots Don’t Crash

2006-11-07T17:16:00.000-08:00

As much as I fantasized about writing a whip-smart essay on the ballot measures and candidates and how you should vote and why, that just didn’t happen, for several reasons, but the primary one being that I’ve hardly read the paper--or anything--since my son was born. I’ve literally had my head buried in the sand.

But, I DID VOTE, after “cramming” the last few days. Yesterday, I dug the voter guide out of a ridiculously high stack of catalogs and magazines, which have also gone unread. Today, I read the local paper, but really only the Endorsement Roundup on the op-ed page. I had a brief discussion of the issues with my husband, who is very much more political than I, having worked for the Clinton administration, but who also is struggling to be on top of things this year.

Having a kid has just turned our lives upside down. That being said we went to the polls after burgers and mac-n-cheese at Mojo Burger . We thought we’d tag team Ry and this would be easy. Not so. We arrived at 7 pm and STOOD IN LINE FOR AN HOUR. Not because of the crowds of people rushing to get their last minute vote in, but because the voting machines were out of order. Although five machines were set up, only three were working and by the time we got to the front of the line, only two were working! It was sheer torture waiting our turn with a 15-month-old ready for bed. Meanwhile, we stared at the precinct across the room, zipping through their line with their five WORKING machines.

Although I found the actual act of electronic voting to be easy, intuitive, and efficient, paper ballots don’t crash and don’t require the “expert” in the room to get them up and running again. I can’t believe they didn’t even offer the choice—or back-up—of paper ballots. Before this evening, I had these grandiose notions that we’d create this voting tradition with our son going to the polls and hopefully he’d look forward to the day that he too would be able participate. Unfortunately I think that I’ll be voting absentee from now on, unless they come up with secure servers so we can vote from home online.

Then There's Thanksgiving

2006-11-06T13:59:00.000-08:00

I hate to rush ahead to the next holiday. Actually, I am one who would be happy if there wasn't a single Christmas item in the stores til December 1, so I'm moving things along more quickly than they should. However, I had an experience at work this week that made me so very thankful I had to share.

My paid job is as a registered nurse at the local university hospital, which has one of the best treatment centers for bone cancer in the nation. My unit takes all sorts of orthopedic patients, but those with bone cancer tend to stay longer, return more often, and get a little deeper into my (and everyone's) heart. My patient this week is no exception.

At the beginning of each workday, I get "report" or the latest update on the conditions and needs of the patients I'll be caring for during the shift. I hear that this one patient is a 31 year old woman, on the cancer service, with an inoperable tumor, who is in the hospital trying to get her excruciating pain from the tumor under control. Those facts alone made me pause and sigh. As health care providers, we're taught not to show much of our own emotions. We all try not to feel them so much either. It sounds harsh maybe, but in the end, it is a sort of sad survival mechanism, so that we can keep on caring enough for the rest of our careers. As I was preparing to meet and care for this woman, though, the despair I felt for her was not far below the surface. Simply because we were so close in age, I knew I could identify too well with what she is currently losing to cancer.

I walked into her room and introduced myself. A lovely, kind, and (under the shroud of pain) spunky woman she is. I look around her room and see her many flowers and photos. Oh, the photos. Her little girl turned two last week while she was in the hospital. To avoid crying, I focus my conversation and mental energy on what a wonderful gift kids are and she her face lights up so much I'm thrilled with the glow. She tells me how she hopes to leave soon, so they can get another professional family photo taken now that her daughter is two. Later in the evening I am in her room working with her many tubes running into her body as she is talking on the phone with her daughter. The little girl is hysterical. My patient is trying everything to calm her down over the phone and nothing is working. The toddler wants her mommy and the phone conversation isn't cutting it. The conversation ends in this completely painful fashion, where my patient almost has to hang up on her daughter just because there is really nothing to console her. As she hangs up, I look at her and am absolutely unable to come up with anything remotely comforting to say to her. I am so, so sad for her and her family, and that sadness leaves me speechless.

One of my decided weaknesses is being grateful for what I have. I'm even worse at being joyful for what I have. In the last few days, my thoughts have been consumed with the "stress" of replacing our beloved babysitter, and our basement remodel, and the kids' whining. As I walked away from work last night, I was thankful for every pain-free step my strong body took and rejoiced that my stresses were really so wonderful.

My Halloween History

2006-11-04T15:34:00.000-08:00

Halloween is not my favorite holiday. When I was a kid, my mom made some great handmade outfits for my brothers and me (she was a 4-H sewing champ) and I've always been pretty crazy for sweets so it seems like I would be a fan. However, I am w-i-m-p-y about all things scary so the whole haunted side of the holiday gives me the creeps. When I do celebrate, I carve happy Jack-o-lanterns, choose cheery costumes and prefer to skip the cobwebs, tombstones and werewolf howls.

I remember being excited for the Halloween haunted house at my elementary school. The teachers warned us that once we started to go through, we had to finish. There would be no early exits; no exceptions. I stepped through the door, heard the spooky music and immediately started bawling. I cried so hard they quickly made an exception to their "no exception" policy. No more haunted houses for me. I've never watched a horror movie and could only bear to watch Michael Jackson's Thriller video with one eye open. I'm a fan of The Simpsons and I faithfully TiVo each new show, but I'm not recording this week's annual "Treehouse of Horror" episode since I can't even handle scary cartoons.

In addition to the creep factor, Halloween ranks low on my holiday list because I don't enjoy dressing up. Some people love the challenge of creating a costume, but I don't! I never come up with very good ideas and then I just fret. Will I be uncomfortable? Will I be too dressed up? Or worse, not dressed up enough? Like the year I came to work as a gardener and no one even noticed that I was in costume. Because it is so common to wear overalls, a straw hat and galoshes to the office. Nevermind that I had my hair in pigtails and a spade in my front pocket. Argh.

When we moved into our house a few years ago, I started to get a little more excited for Halloween. It is fun to hand out candy and see the neighborhood cuties all dressed up (even though the doorbell rings only about 5 times thanks to the dark, rainy October nights here in Seattle). Last year we stayed in, dressed four-month old Jeeper in Halloween themed pajamas and answered the door. No stressful creative costuming and nothing scary. My perfect "all-hallows eve."

Jeep loves dogs, so this year I got him a puppy costume and made plans with a friend to take our babes to University Village for trick-or-treating. I told myself I was doing the right thing for the photo album and then prepared for some twoodler (like tween) fits of frustration. When one of my colleagues wished Jeep "lots of fun" on Halloween I responded with the observation that Halloween isn't exactly fun for one year olds. Not that it is torture, but fun for a one year old is a familiar place (like home) and an enthusiastic audience (especially one that will clap, cheer, sing and rough-house). Fun isn't big crowds, sitting for photos, wearing a weird hood or being urged to put treats in a basket.

I was right, Jeeper didn't burst into grins or giggles at any point during our Halloween adventures. He tolerated his hood, carefully observed all the commotion and took his treat taking very seriously. But what surprised me, in addition to his good behavior, was how much fun I had! The cool autumn air, the energy of all the families, the ease of a being with a good friend and the cuteness of my son together with the sugar high from a few mini candy bars made me into one happy Halloween mama. I'm already looking forward to celebrating Halloween as a family in the future. Just as long as I don't have to wear a costume any time soon.

Happy Halloween!

2006-10-31T22:19:00.000-08:00

Tonight was the first of many Halloween memories to come in our new home in our new neighborhood. Ry was joined by his friend Audrey and his cousin Megan (and chaperones) for a night on the town. We headed to the "best street" in the neighborhood for some serious action.

Blog Mama meets Elizabeth Edwards

2006-10-30T11:44:00.000-08:00

Yes, that’s me in this picture with Elizabeth Edwards, yes as in the wife of former vice presidential candidate John Edwards (as a feminist with identity issues I shouldn’t be describing her that way, but I did it anyway). She’s written a book: Saving Graces: Finding Solace and Strength from Friends and Strangers. As part of her book tour, I had the amazing chance along with 14 other bloggers from the Silicon Valley Moms Blog to sit down and talk with her last Tuesday.

For those of you who don’t know much about her, you can read her bio on the Senator’s web site, but what you won’t read here is how her oldest son died at age 17 in a no-drinking, no-drugs car crash (the wind blew his Jeep over and it burst into flames) or that she underwent fertility treatments to start a second family and her third child was born when she was age 48 and her fourth at 50! More widely known is that she was diagnosed with breast cancer the day after the general election in 2004.

She’s been on my mind quite a bit the last week, and I wrote a couple posts for the Silicon Valley Mom’s Blog that included references to our meeting: What I didn’t Ask Elizabeth Edwards and Other Random Thoughts (like how I picked my outfit that day) and Six Feet Tall and Bullet Proof (how meeting her is helping me put my role as provider/protecter into perspective). As you’ll see in these posts, I really find her to be an inspiration--as a mother, writer, career-minded women, and supportive wife--and am looking forward to reading Saving Graces.

Tea Tangent

2006-10-24T21:15:00.000-07:00

I need to rant about tea today. Tea doesn't have much to do with being a mama except that I am a mother and I really like tea. I'm having a hard time readily find good tea and I'm ticked.

Let me clarify a few details. First of all, I like iced tea best. Fresh, crisp, clear cold tea with lots of ice -- ALL YEAR ROUND. People drink cold water, iced sodas and frozen frapp-a-doodle drinks so I don't want sassy comments about my preference for cold tea. Secondly, I like my tea UNsweetened. I don't care if other people want to add aspartame or sugar, but I believe that tea should be available in it's pure plain brewed form and additions should be optional.

Seattle is a coffee town and tea lovers are treated like second-class citizens. I'm shocked by the poor quality tea I have been served; no coffee drinker would accept coffee that is 3 days old, bitter and murky so why do restraunteurs and baristas assume that treatment is okay for a tea customer?! And enough with "fountain tea." That stuff is NOT tea - it is nasty yuck and should be banned. Again, would you drink your coffee from a spout on the coke machine? Noooo, I didn't think so.

Good tea is pretty easy. Take some decent tea leaves and cover them with really hot water. Serve as is or cool slowly and add ice. The end. Not difficult. At work I often buy fountain cups filled with ice and pour my own brewed tea over the ice to make delicious, fresh iced tea. But I shouldn't have to carry my own tea bags as I go about town! Starbucks offers an iced black tea all year round, but when I order it, I have to specify no syrup (which of course I do) and more than once I've taken a big slurp a few miles from the drive-through only to taste the tell-tale slickery sweetness of sugary syrup. Ugh.

When in Chicago for work recently, I fell in love with ArgoTea, a local tea cafe that is hoping to become the "Starbucks of Tea". I'm thinking of writing them a letter about opening in Seattle - maybe I'll promise them I'll run their first store here. Until then, I'll keep scouting out places that offer a decent glass of iced tea. And I think I'll tuck some tea bags in my purse… just in case!

The Great Orator

2006-10-18T12:45:00.000-07:00

As many of you have heard before my son, C, is in the second grade. He is a great kid. He is kind, a good friend to many other boys and great soccer player. Geez, I’m mom-gushing! Anyway, at school he is taking a public speaking class. He is a shy boy in many ways, so this class has been awesome for him. (I remember him crying at the pre-school circle time, when his teacher asked his name.) He now has no problem speaking in front of his peers and he is quite the orator! He’s done speeches on his favorite family tradition, his hero and his favorite toy – stuff he can talk hours about.

This week’s speech is on his “greatest accomplishment”. As his mom and #1 fan, I can name a million, like the time he stood up for his best friend, when other kids were being mean or the time he got moved up a grade because he was such a good reader or the time he scored his first soccer goal….of course, I could go on and on. But in preparing for this particular speech, he, of course, could not think of one thing that he was most proud of.

Maybe I am just over analyzing this, but a ton of “experts” say that some of the most important things we can teach our kids are “self-worth and thinking critically”. What does this really look like? Having your child be able to discern how great he is- Without the benefit of looking through mom’s “rose-colored” glasses? How do we instill a sense of positive identity in second graders? I used to work at this great non-profit that talked a lot about positive child development. http://www.projectcornerstone.org/html/assets/index.htm I led parent groups and workshops about this exact topic, but it is always different when they are YOUR kids, right? Well no it isn’t but, it is different when the issue confronts you at home at the kitchen table. I guess you take the knowledge you’ve learned and put on your best mommy hat and then do your best.

C is set to talk about his greatest accomplishment this Friday. He threw ALL my great ideas aside and decided that his greatest accomplishment was winning a board game a few weeks ago. Our family played a game, boys against girls, and my husband and C won! (Easy considering, my partner is 3 year old!:) Just kidding.) Despite all my worries, I’m proud that he chose something that was a family tradition and that he found joy in something I had already even forgotten about. What a great reminder that it IS those small things and the random moments that mean the world to our children!

HELP!

2006-10-18T08:53:00.000-07:00

OK, I expect a record number of comments in response to this post! Here's what I need from ALL of you: Potty-training tips! And I need them NOWWWWWWW! C'mon...dish people! And yes, I already have a five-year-old who is potty-trained...but I still need help with my two-year-old. (I have no shame. And apparently, no expertise either.) HELP! HELP! HELP!

Maaaaaaaybe I should care?

2006-10-13T20:42:00.000-07:00

So this was a new thing for me today: a mid-trimester progress report for my kindergartener. Wow! Times have changed. But, we all know that, so on to the progress report. Under "Important Relationship and Study Skills" my dear boy received two O's (for Outstanding...duh, I coulda told them he was that!), four S+'s (for Satisfactory, and I guess the + means he's extra satisfactory) and two S's. Apparently he's just plain old satisfactory when it comes to "Participates in class" and "Presents neat work." All that just made me kind of chuckle and roll my eyes a little. At that point half of my brain was still stuck on the fact that I was actually reading a mid-trimester report for someone who still loves his stuffed doggy and quite often just wants his mommy.

Then I got to the "Academic Progress" section. Yes friends, kindergarten in 2006 is indeed, an "academic" endeavor. But again, you all knew that...I just still think it's funny. Don't mind me, I'm living in the past. It's nice here. So, dear boy received no O's in this category. (Enter: the first of the maaaaaaaaybe I should care? thoughts/feelings) He did receive two S+'s in Bible and Penmanship. (Think: private Christian school...perhaps they feel they owe us a progress report as we're paying dearly for this kindergarten experience? Hmm. I wonder what Jesus would've gotten an S+ in when he was five.) Four regular S's were given for Science, History/Social Studies, Mathematics and Art. An up to this point unheard of S- was given for P.E. and (drumroll....) four N's ("Attention Needed") for English, Spelling, Reading and Phonics.

My reactions to all this were, in this order: Surprise: at the whole thing. Amusement: that the envelope was sealed and addressed to "The Parents of Dear Boy." Uh, in case anyone hadn't noticed, the kindergarteners CAN'T READ each other's progress reports because they CAN'T READ! Pride: the two O's were the first two things I read. Skepticism: I think his work is neat enough, thank you! Surprise again: N for English? The kid never stops talking! Neeeeeeeever! They must be terribly, terribly confused. Or hard of hearing. Confusion: wait, don't ALL the kindergartners fall under the "Attention Needed" category for spelling and reading? Hmm...yeah, they probably all got that...isn't that kind of, oh, what's the word....OBVIOUS?! (And what we're paying for?!) Smugness: no one on God's green earth can make me care that dear boy was given an S- for P.E. You're talking to an art major here people. And Daddy was a piano performance major. So yeah, just tryyyyy to make us care. I'll care when and if it ever bothers dear boy...til then, he can run and throw like a girl for all I care. (Sue me.) Disbelief: they can say there is attention needed for phonics but I live with the kid and he tells me what letter nearly every word he says starts with based on the sound he makes and then proceeds to practice that sound, think of other words that start with it, rhyme with it, etc. etc. He's probably just too busy listening (got an O for that!) at school to show off. Is there a category for humility?! Pride again: penmanship was always a source of pride for little me as well. Who cares about math when you can write the word 'math' reeeeaaaally pretty?! And lastly, Horror: only an S for art?! Well now, this IS cause for concern! Back to that color wheel boy and no dinner until you can name and paint the primary, secondary and terciary colors!

Clearly I jest. But honestly, does not a mid-trimester progress report for a five-year-old not just beg for it?! (For the record: love the school, love the teachers, love the boy. Not in that order.)

It's beginning to sound alot like...the holidays!

2006-10-09T21:42:00.000-07:00

Can you feel it? The holidays are right around the corner…Halloween, Christmas, and my personal favorite, Thanksgiving. I have a love/hate relationship with this time of year. I LOVE the idea of giving gifts, but hate how commercial it is and how much it costs me in the end. I have only great memories of going door to door collecting candy from my neighbors at Halloween, I HATE that costumes today can cost a fortune and that now I am a MOM that has to worry about my kids actually eating ALL that candy.

Regardless, Halloween is here and we finally decorated our front porch. This week after much badgering from the kids, I broke down and pulled out the decorations. I forget how much fun it is each year. We hung ghosts from the trees and put three huge pumpkins out front. The kids tried on the old costumes and put the pretzels, mini toys and of course, candy, we bought in a big bowl.

One thing I love about our neighborhood is that there are a lot of kids on our street. So with ours being the first decorated house on the street, we had kids from all over stopping to check it out. We had parents cruise by with the “Darn, I guess it’s our turn to pull out the old bins of decorations next” look. Being the newest family on the block, we had folks stop by and tell us tales of the Halloween’s past on the street.

In our old neighborhood, we had years where we had 2-4 sets of kids stop by. For a while, I thought everyone had abandoned the Halloween of my youth and headed for the mall. It was a huge disappointment for us with 4 bags of chocolate ready to be handed out by an excited pre-schooler and mommy! Thank goodness, I only buy candy I like to eat.

Our new neighbors tell us that several of our neighbors go all out with their Halloween displays and that we have scores of kids so that we better prepare at least 200 pieces of candy. As expensive as that sounds – this is the reason we moved to this over priced Silicon Valley neighborhood – kids galore and families ready to join in on the fun. Idyllic sounding, picture perfect, worth the effort – a lot of trips to the door. You bet! We can’t wait! Bring on the Holidays!

Speaking of money...

2006-10-09T20:28:00.000-07:00

Ok, I need some advice and wisdom, particularly from those of you with school-age kids, who likely have a bit more experience with my most recent issue: fundraising. Both of my kids have participated in a cooperative preschool system for the past couple of years (with which I have a love/hate relationship) and, three weeks into the school year, the fundraising has begun! Now, my daughter turns two years old this week. She can barely pronounce the word "cheese" which she loves and eats everyday, let alone the words, "my cooperative preschool needs extra money, will you buy a Christmas wreath?" So now it is finally clear to me that this is really a parental activity. I'm selling Girl Scout cookies all over again, and let me tell you, I have a history of being the scout with the worst sales record in the troop. I have a visceral aversion to selling things.

Trying to be a good sport, though, I have spent the last few days pondering to whom I would sell. The easy target would be local friends and family, who might oblige us out of love, but really, deep-down would never have otherwise purchased a Christmas wreath either on principle or out of (understandable) thriftiness. Our family is the type who is much more likely to just go cut down some branches and make our own Christmas decorations. We live in the Evergreen State! Paying for one is a most pointed example of impracticality. The other option would be to take my wreath order form to work and leave it out with a little self-deprecating note about how annoying little fundraiser starting so early these days. Honestly, though, I sense this concept is here to stay, and I feel like I can't start in too early with the co-workers or they will burn out and become bitter. I think the kid should at least be out of diapers.

So I need the real story from you mamas: what does my future hold? How many of these can I expect per school year per child? Is anyone able to approach it in a way that makes it more tolerable? I feel like I'll be able to get behind the fundraising a little better when my child is actually able to comprehend the idea, or if it is for a particular cause, like world hunger. Right now, though, I want to just pay the extra $50 I owe and finger paint.

The Sippy Cup of My Dreams

2006-10-05T23:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, so there is a ton of baby gear out there and some I like, some I love and lots I could do without. But lately I've been dreaming of a couple of things that, as far as I can tell, do not yet exist. So I'm calling all savvy parents and/or you inventor types to help me get my hands on two imaginary items.

The perfect bib
I believe that infants and toddlers learn a lot from food. The journey from tray/plate/bowl to mouth is an educational one that develops the mind and many motor skills in addition to the palate. But it is also one of the messiest adventures ever! And most bibs are not up to the challenge. The perfect bib must be:

Big enough to cover the mess. I'm not sure I want long sleeves, but I'm tired of gaping neck holes and barely-to-the-bellybutton coverage. If I have to change his clothes after he eats, then why am I bothering with the bib?

Repellent or at least resistant to liquid. Many bibs keep chunks of food at bay, but still allow liquid to soak through. Those bibs may save me a few stain-fighting seconds, but I still have to spend way too many minutes changing his clothes and washing the wet ones! Not good enough.

Easy to wash and dry. Although I might consider one that rinses under the tap, the perfect bib can be tossed in the washer and dryer (and still repel liquids). Another feature that is affected by wash-ability is the bib closure. Velcro can be quick, but it doesn't hold up very well in the wash so I would prefer a button, snap or tie closure.

Small, light and hip. Babies eat everywhere so a bib needs to be portable and packable. And a cartoon character print or cutesy-cute won't do. The perfect bib works well and looks cool.

The perfect cup
Sippy cups have saved the sanity of many parents. At my son's Montessori daycare, they teach the babies to drink from tiny tumblers which is so adorable and very amazing but the reality is sometimes a kid needs to drink on the road. So the sippy cup of my dreams would:

Be easy to drink from but not leak! Okay, so I learned the difference between sippy and tippy and Jeeper has the sippy kind so they shouldn't leak, right? Wrong! Even if they don't leak out of the spout, they leak out of the screw-on top. I'm tired of wet seats, laps and diaper bags. Argh!

Not have a handle, but still be easy to hold. I especially loathe the kind with the removable handle because it is one more thing to lose. But there should be some shape or curve that makes it easy for little fingers to grip.

Keep the drink tasting good. This is my hugest gripe. Grab your little one's sippy and take a good long swig. You'll join my revolution! That foul, plastic taste does not seem healthy.

Now that you know how I spend my spare moments imagining improvements to baby gear, I'm hoping someone out there has recommendations that will make my dreams come true!

Grocery Store Challenged

2006-10-02T12:51:00.000-07:00

Since we're on the topic of money, I thought I'd share one of my challenges with spending more than necessary - at the grocery store. Whenever I read something like "Top 10 Tips for Saving Cash" in a magazine, always included is the advice to make a list when going to the store. I make the list. In fact I usually have to make lists three times a week. I seem to be grocery store challenged. Even with the list, I still end up needing to go back to the store 3 or more times a week! This can't be good for the budget. You know the saying, 'I can't get out of Target without spending less than $100', well for me it's the grocery store, and each little trip seems to be at least $50. Not only is there the money I spend in the store, but the time and gas used to go back to the store each time. Now, part of the challenge is that we have a goal these days of eating lots of fresh fruit and vegetables. To achieve this goal, I also spend some time at the local farmers market, too, but fresh fruit and veggies only stay fresh so long. Inevitably another store trip is needed to get the next 3 day supply. I've tried the weekly menu thing, but our schedule seems to be a bit up in the air each week. The times when I do a BIG shopping trip with absolutely everything we'd need for 7 days worth of meals, plans end up changing, we don't eat at our own home (or my husband has a business dinner) and food goes to waste. I think the only thing that bugs me more than making too many grocery store runs and overspending is wasting food.

I don't really have a resolution for my challenge at this point. I did just read about buying home supplies on Amazon . . . I don't even know yet what they offer (but I've heard diapers are available - cheap, too) but I think I'll check it out. If I can keep my grocery store runs down to 2 a week and then maybe get most of my Target-like purchases online, I'll save gas money for sure. (And because we're Amazon Prime members, we should get free shipping on our orders.) Well, I'll have to post an update on all this in a week or so. If anyone has any other cost cutting ideas, please feel free to send them my way. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to get to the grocery store. I'm trying not to freak-out since I was just there . . . . yesterday.

My Bipolar Relationship with Money

2006-09-29T22:40:00.000-07:00

The Silicon Valley Moms Blog, hosted "Money Thursday" yesterday. Here's a "reprint" of my post there.

I’ve always had a complex relationship with money. I spent the first six years of my life in Los Altos Hills (very affluent Silicon Valley Neighborhood). Then we moved to a remote Idaho ranch outside a town with a population of 450 (yes, four hundred and fifty) and my parents built a 10,000 square foot house. I was the “rich girl” whose peers often asked, “Is it true you have twenty telephones and an indoor swimming pool?” At school, most kids qualified for free or subsidized lunch tickets—I was odd because I paid full price. Most parents were loggers or cowboys or were supported entirely by welfare. I spent my entire adolescence being ashamed of money. I wanted to be like everyone else.

That wish came true my senior year of high school. My parents declared bankruptcy and I too, qualified for free lunch tickets. That gave me some level of sick satisfaction. Their bankruptcy also helped me quality for a huge financial aid package at Pepperdine University, which brought me to Malibu, and a complete role reversal. I wore Wranglers and drove a Ford Festiva while my suitemates wore designer jeans and cruised around in BMWs. I was now the charity case. Being accustomed to a life of not having to do without, and the fact that my parents had no money to help me through school, I graduated with $20,000 in credit card debt. It took me hundreds of tuna sandwiches, four years, and an arrangement with consumer credit counseling to pay it off, which wasn’t easy on my first salaried job.

So, ten years later, what have I learned? That I still have a bipolar relationship with money. I probably spend more than I should. Yet, sometimes, I find myself embarrassed to have what I have (a decent home in Silicon Valley with an SUV parked in front). I have a lot of excess compared to most people in the world, but compared to my zip code, I’m likely near the bottom rung. I’m not really envious of anyone with more money than I. I know from my childhood that having excess money has it’s own set of responsibilities and headaches. And, most everyone has problems, if not financial, then perhaps something worse, like health concerns or estranged relationships.

I’m blessed to have a wonderful husband who is healthier with money than I. We also have a kid not only to support, but to also set an example for—I don’t want him to learn the hard way like I did. So I guess I still need to spend some time clearing the skeletons from my wallet.

Checking, Savings, Trade School, Taxes

2006-09-28T11:11:00.000-07:00

Although Jeep is only 15 months old, he receives an allowance. He has been getting a weekly allowance since two pink stripes displayed on a certain plastic stick. It isn’t that he has a trust fund or inheritance or that we have buckets of money – I just knew it would be a good idea to start a healthy money habit early.

Jeeper gets one dollar a week. In quarters. I put one quarter in each of the antique Bell jars that I bought when I was pregnant. The quarters aren’t for decoration although they do sparkle in their glass banks. I use quarters because it makes the math easier. You see, I distribute his allowance into four accounts: Checking, Savings, Trade School and Taxes. The money is for Jeep – and it is his to spend – within the boundaries of each account.

Checking is the NOW money. The “gum in the checkout line” or “poorly-made, over-priced toy in the gift shop” money. As soon as Jeeper’s brain can handle the logic of demand and supply, he can spend the money in his checking account as quickly or slowly as he likes. But he will also learn that Mama and Daddy won’t buy the gum or the toy for him (I can’t guarantee that Grandma/Grandpa or Nana/Papa will follow suit) so he will have to make his own choices and live with them.

Savings is the PRETTY SOON money. I don’t know yet if little Jeep will have a “burning a hole in my pocket” or a “miserly moneybags” mindset. Either way, to spend the money from the savings account he will need to check in with an advisor to get the purchase approved. The advisor’s role isn’t to talk him into or out of a purchase, but to be a touch point that reminds him of what he truly wants and values. Hopefully the savings account will produce many coveted toys and treasures while also teaching the sweet, sweet satisfaction of delayed gratification.

The Trade School account’s purpose is to make a dent in a future EDUCATIONAL endeavor. 25 cents a week won’t pay for books so we plan to supplement this account as we are able. Most likely and somewhat hopefully the future beneficiary of these funds will be the undergraduate tuition bill from a college or university. But the money is Jeeper’s to use for culinary school or a welding certification program or art school or an ESL certificate program in Spain or six years of community college courses or a PhD or whatever he chooses to pursue.

Earlier I wrote that Jeep’s allowance is for him and that he gets to spend it but that isn’t the whole truth because he has a jar for TAXES. We aren’t handing the fourth quarter over to Uncle Sam. The money in the final jar will be spent by our family (with Jeeper’s equal input) to benefit our home and our community. Family activities can be funded from this account (although repeated trips to Disneyland will be excluded) as are charitable contributions. One small way to remind him that with money comes a responsibility beyond yourself.

As Jeep gets older, I plan to increase his allowance to match his age. One dollar a week for each year lived, with ¼ still deposited into each account. The idea isn’t to fund Harvard tuition or pay for his first car, but to help him develop healthy spending and savings habits while fostering independence and freedom. One shiny quarter at a time.

Kitchen Bitch or Sexpot?

2006-09-26T21:32:00.000-07:00

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve blogged, it’s not that I haven’t had anything to say, it’s just that it’s hard to sit at the computer when you’re still looking for basics, like toothpaste and clean underwear. Not only is moving a bitch, but also it’s also turning me into one. I told D just the other night that stay-home moms should be called “house bitches” because that’s exactly how I feel—bitchy. Now everyone throw your flipping appalled comments my way. And if you want to get really fired up, read Details Magazine's, Sexpots in the Kitchen, which I came across today in the chiropractor's office with the following tagline on the cover: "Why women should stay in the Kitchen."

Anyway, moving on to something more reverent:

In the spirit of CrissCreek’s recent post Toy’s Aren’t Us, Po Bronson’s essay in Time, on Baby Einstein v. Barbie was rather enlightening to me on what most of America is like outside of my life in Silicon Valley. I like his term, “Supermom lit” and the fact that he’s calling it out. I’m realizing what a sucker I am for the next hot title marketed especially to me—a generation-X-yuppie-mom who “consults,” paid way to much for a fixer-upper in San Jose, and owns every Baby Einstein DVD (it was a gift, though).

Speaking of my house… I’ve been over to the condo a couple times this week and I find myself missing it. It was so much easier to clean, it was warmer, cozier, and we made a ton of memories there. Would I be the craziest person in the world to move back??? Maybe I need to have a detachment ceremony so that the universe will send someone new to love it. If you have any suggestions on that front let me know. One cool thing that happened is that I pitched “our story” to Mercury News Reporter Sue McAllister and she posted it on her real estate blog. Gotta love blogs.

For the love of Money and Star Wars...

2006-09-25T13:26:00.000-07:00

We have been working on teaching my kids the value of money; pretty hard sometimes in this day and age. Often times, when we are talking about something that the kids want – like McDonald’s or a new toy, the kids beg and plea. My typical response has been, “We can’t, we don’t have any money for that.” The smarties that they are, they’ve come up with a new response, “Yes, we we have money mama – we can use the credit card.” Aah!, if it were just that easy. I’d use that logic every time I cruise by a shoe store!

Regardless, we have instituted many measures to address money – allowances, piggy banks, paid chores…with more regularity and as the kids grow older I am hoping these will work to show my kids there is no limitless credit card at our household.

This weekend, my son, showed J and I, that we have made some strides. My son LOVES anything Star Wars, Legos and video games. This week the Star Wars 2 Legos video game came out. Last year for his birthday we bought him Version One. I used to think he was too little for games, so thought the Legos version would be a good compromise from the ones geared towards teens and adults. I had no idea how much he and J would love them. (Yes, I was SO naïve.) Actually, I am not sure who enjoyed the game more, J or my son.

Anyway, so C saw the ‘Coming soon” ad and of course, anxiously awaited the date. The moment it came out, J and C, looked on line to find the best deal. They found it at Target. C immediately went to his piggy bank and counted out the $30.00 he would need to bring Darth Vader home. It was mostly quarters, so they neatly put it all in plastic baggies. So all week, C looked forward to Friday – the BIG day! (I didn’t make the trek, but J relayed this experience – like the proud daddy that he was.)

They get to Target, they head to the video games section and find that it is one of the few remaining – whew! The store is about to close, so they hurry to the register. The cashier was a young man, who must have remembered his first time buying a game or a toy, so he kindly referred to C as “sir” and treated him with the respect any “official paying customer” should expect. C, of course, did not know whom the cashier was referring to when was called, “sir”. The cashier told him the amount due and took his baggie of quarters and said, “Thank you Sir, hope you enjoy your purchase and have a good evening.” C, sheepishly said, “Thank you and I will!” C and J ran home and immediately loaded it on the computer. Haven’t seen them for hours!

C’s piggy bank is a whole lot lighter. He has already asked about what chores he can do to earn more money. But he gets that you have to earn it or at least save money to get what you want – score one for mom and dad!

On another note:
I also thank the universe for the cashier, who was kind and respectful to my child! This was one of those moments he’ll always remember. Target probably has earned a lifelong loyal customer in C.

Toys Aren't Us

2006-09-20T19:46:00.000-07:00

Just prior to our foray into parenthood 3.5 years ago, my husband and I volunteered for a year in a medical clinic serving indigenous people in rural Bolivia (for the geographically-challenged, Bolivia is smack dab in the middle of South America). We had a fascinating and colorful experience there. Of course, it changed the way I see many things. For instance, though I am a "cold body", I now know I am NOT a fan of tropical weather without modern conveniences (air-conditioning). I fell deeper in love with and despair of my country. I discovered I could not, despite years of running for fitness, even jog at 13,000 feet above sea level. And the experience informed a lot of my approach as a mother: I felt genuinely inspired to BE a mother (we came back pregnant) and I often use the images of that year to make from mundane to complex decisions about parenting.

One such image took place while I was on a home visit with the clinic staff to one of the many impoverished families that we served. As always, the family was large and most of the living took place outside, and thus, everyone was dirty. The children were (as anyone might imagine) particularly dirty. One of the little boys in the family was around two or three years old, with a really ragged sleeveless shirt on and nothing else. Time is never closely tracked in Latin America, so while our visit went on over the next hour, I watched as this boy happily and QUIETLY played with his one toy: a rusted gear that had come off an old bicycle some apparent years prior. He rolled it the dirt, making tracks, he turned it around and around. There was absolutely no evidence of boredom in his demeanor.

Despite the anti-materialistic lesson this boy provided to me, my family and I live an overly abundant life here in the US. Our kids have more toys than they play with. They inherited or were gifted the vast majority of them, but I keep them all, somehow feeling it awful to get rid of their toys. Additionally, my children FREQUENTLY demonstrate boredom. They have closets full of different toys, but none seem interesting.

Last week, though, I remembered this Bolivian boy. We are trying to remodel our basement and have moved a pile of junk from the basement to our back yard, awaiting the dumpster (yes, even in our GARBAGE we are abundant). The kids found the pile and had the longest time of contented play together ever documented in our family history (one hour, 20 minutes). As I prepared dinner, I marveled at my own solitude and then at the fact that it was not the swing or the tricycle or the sandbox or the wading pool or the bike or the wagon that was fascinating them. It was junk. I think I'll start donating...

Tradeoffs

2006-09-18T07:35:00.000-07:00

Our son has had some breakthroughs as of late - in the area of reading. It's an interesting thing to watch since we don't really work with him in any way. He will be 4 in December and he's reading. Not alot, but groups of small words here and there. People are quite astonished when they see him read something. I'm mostly intrigued since he does it all on his own. And while I do think it's wonderful and I'm really happy for him, I see it as a developmental piece and there are some, well, tradeoffs.

He's not potty trained - at all. Again, the age of 4 is approaching and it's kind of freaking me out.

He has absolutely no interest in using the potty and is perfectly content to use his pull-ups and not change a thing (except when he needs to be changed, of course.). We've tried the potty thing - a few times. We even bribed him with candy, which seemed to work for a while, and then he just decided getting candy wasn't worth using the potty anymore. As Dr. Phil would say, I guess it's not his 'currency'. Man, I'd really like to know what his 'currency' is. We had even hoped when he attended preschool 2 mornings a week last year, that he would watch the other kids 'go' and be inspired to learn. No such luck.

Wise folks who have been through the parenting mill tell me that he will just be ready some day, and everything will click - the desire, the mechanics of it all, and the willingness to be in a different place developmentally. I even tried to combine his love of reading/being read to with sitting on the potty, but again, it was fun at first, and then he just lost intrest/desire. Now when we try to talk with him about it or encourage him to use his potty, he just starts to melt down. He's not ready. (Big sigh from mom)

My mom stiffles her laughs about it all because . . . . . she remembers. Apparently I was the exact same way. It goes against all the conventional potty-training wisdom - I am a girl after all, and girls are supposed to be 'easy' to train. I was not. In fact, my mom says I was 4 when it all finally came together for me. Because I had two younger sisters, one who was 3 when I was 4, and the other who was almost 2 (my poor mother!), we all ended up being potty trained at about the same time.

If I had the time, training and lots of money, I'd love to do research on the brain and specifically learn how we learn. Are certain things already hard-wired, or do some folks find certain tasks, like reading, very natural, but other things, like new motor skills and developmental items to be more challenging? (We have faced some similar hurdles with teaching him to dress himself). Hmmmm . . this could be, as he was a 'late' walker as well. When he did walk, it just all clicked one day and he went from being an expert crawler to a walker. I don't think he fell even once. That is an interesting piece of it as well, because it's not like he doesn't do the physically developmental tasks well, he just waits until he's ready, and then does it fine. It's almost as if he wants to have a mastery over the new skill from the get-go.

So, I guess we're in a bit of a waiting game with him. Let me tell you, you'll know when that day comes for me. I"ll just write a post, "Hallelujah, HE DID IT!", and you'll know what it's all about. If he follows in his 'way' with learning new skills, he'll be an expert potty-user. In the meantime, I'll appreciate his intrest in reading and just love him for where he's at today.

Whoa.

2006-09-12T22:56:00.000-07:00

Ok, so remember That One Kid? Well, that kid is doing fine with kindergarten now. It's me, his mother, who is having a bit of a time with the kindergarten.....um....I guess I'll call them adjustments. There are the obvious adjustments: school being every day vs. just 2 or 3 days a week and all the driving, planning, and timing that alone entails. Also, the things like packing snacks and making sure there are to-be-seen-outside-of-the-house clothes clean every weekday, being RIGHT on time for school drop off and pick up, etc. etc. I foresaw these adjustments, so they've come as no big surprise. While I may feel inconvenienced at times, I'm up for it. No prob. Bring it on.

What I in no way foresaw was the dredging of some ancient personal history that my son's advent into school has inspired. Whoa. When my dear boy said (during only week #2 of school) "Why does school have to be EVERY day?!...I don't like that it's EVERY day!" My initial (and thankfully only internal) reaction was a five-year-old version of myself shouting back: "Me Too!" When he told me yesterday that he will now have homework every week and that this fact makes him "mad," on the outside I said "Oh honey, I'm sorry you feel mad but really, it's ok...homework is fun when you're a little kid and I'll help you do it and it will be great!" On the inside I said "Me too! That's so stupid! I hated homework too! And geez louise, you're only in kindergarten, why the heck should you have to do homework?!...It's bad enough that you're going to have it to do for years on end!..."

I didn't foresee my negative feelings about school resurfacing in the way in which they have...which is, they're driving me a little nutty. It's not unbearable, but I realize I need to come to terms with some of my past (which is so pesky and emotionally time-consuming. Sigh...there's just no time-saving, drive-thru way of dealing with oneself is there?!) The thing is, I was a good student. It's not like my negative take on school is because I did poorly and all that can come with that. On the contrary, I was a self-motivated, high achieving kid when it came to academics. I was also as shy as the day is long, so teachers basically really liked me because I was noooooo trouble. My negative take on school is rooted in many other things, none of which merit sussing out here because for the most part, I know what they are and they're not particularly intriguing to write or read about. I just didn't think I'd ever have to drag them all out again, dust them off, line them up according to height and give them a good thinking over. Oh well. Even though I didn't forsee this, I'm still up for it. Bring it on. If dragging out the eye-rolling, I-thought-best-left-behind-past will help me be a better mom to a kindergartner (and 1st grader, 2nd grader....) then, (shudder) I'm happy to do it. Cuz' I lovelovelove my boy(s). C'mon Dr. Freud and Dr. Phil, let's go get a cuppa and chat.

Bedtime Rituals

2006-09-10T23:10:00.000-07:00

We have always had a family bed – that is, my kids have always slept with us when they were infants and toddlers. Whether you agree with it or not, it has worked like a champ at our house and I am sad to say this era is just about over…

When we were pregnant with our first, we looked all over the world for the “right” crib and then scoured all of San Jose for a mattress with just enough springs for his precious baby back. Of course after all that work, he slept in his crib once or twice– and never through the night. I admit it was partly because I was too damn tired to get out of bed and feed him, partly because I am not good at anything or conscious at 3 a.m. and partly because of his perfect new baby smell that we succumbed to sharing our bed with this little 10 pound wonder. When Caden was born we lived in this tiny apartment with a full size bed and somehow it worked. My poor husband had this small corner of the bed, while we stretched out – but hey, I had to go through labor and breastfeeding – this was the least he could do I rationalized.

Caden slept with us until I got pregnant with his sister (he was 3) and I just got too big. Despite his protests, Caden moved to his own bed and Kiley moved in. It wasn’t easy to coax him into his own big boy bed, especially after he met his replacement, but we did it! We didn't even boter putting the crib up for our daughter, we knew it was going to be useless.

With Kiley, it has been a total of 6 years of sleeping with at least one child in the bed – sometimes two. Yikes! Where does the time go? We thought it would be a few months tops. Says a lot about why don’t have three or four children, huh!

This past week Kiley has slept in her own bed. She and Caden share bunk beds, so her transition has been a snap. I admit that we did bribe her with a “Diego’s Treehouse”, (Dora the Explorer’s cousin for those of you who don’t know) for five days of sleeping on her own and she has done it with flying colors. I’m so proud of her!

So our bed has been a kid free zone for 7 days now. On one hand, it’s been great, no little feet in my back, no little hands smacking me in the head and (I know this sounds gross) no “accidents” greeting us in the morning. But I have to admit, I’ve missed Kiley’s snoring, her hugging my arm while I sleep and her squishy tummy and angelic smiles when she is having a great dream.

Our new bedtime ritual utilizes the ex-family bed in a new way, a wrestling ring. No matter what anyone is doing or wherever they are in the house, when Caden calls, “Last one in bed is rotten loser!” at around 8:30 p.m. we all come running in hoping not to be last one in for that poor individual is promptly dog-piled upon and tickled. It has been so fun and the kids look forward to it.

I miss their cuddly, sweet smelling baby selves in my bed, but wrestling and laughing together sure has been a nice replacement. I have the bruises to prove it.

Hope

2006-09-10T21:07:00.000-07:00

Five years.

No, it can't be . . .has it been that long since it happened? Wow.

I was really taken by surprise a few weeks ago when I began to see the references to this year's 9/11 anniversary. I knew it had been a while, but if someone had asked me how long ago it took place, my initial thought would be, two maybe three years ago . . .? It was so other and defining that it inhabits a very recent place in my mind. The only other event that has affected me as much was the Northridge Earthquake of 1994. Incredibly scary, but so different. One was an act of nature, and what took place on 9/11 was concocted, planned and carried out by men. Not just done by man, but specifically planned to target fellow man, and to bring about tremendous amounts of pain and suffering.

Five years ago today, I was actually sleeping-in. I had recently quit my job in hopes that we would be able to conceive a child. (Quiting the job would be a good stress-reducer). My sister's phone call was my alarm clock and after her inital hello the first thing she said to me was, "are you watching TV?". I was instantly shocked, horrified and completely saddened by the image on the screen. It's the one we probably all have etched in our brains - both towers have back smoke pouring out of them and a good portion of NYC is being engulfed by those ominous clouds. We had been attacked.

My adult mind had never even conceived that I would be reacting to an attack of that magnitude on American soil. In the midst of my grief, sadness and terror I immediately thought of Pearl Harbor. Then the rest of the day is blur of watching the news, understanding the full scale of what had been planned, and figuring out what to do next. Many phone calls were made to family and friends, just to touch base and hear the voice of loved ones.

My role as a mother had not even begun. In fact, in the weeks after it all happened I considered what kind of a world would a little one be brought into. Should I even consider having children if this type of thing (and worse) is what they might be facing? As it all happened, I did have the privilege of becoming a mom, and my little guy was brought into this world in the mid-morning hours of December 19, 2002. Even though 9/11/01 was the tremendous tragedy it was, hope was not extinguished. Not only did I have a child, but it is speculated that a bit of a baby boom happened in the months after. My son is actually part of a wave of children that were conceived within the 6 months after it happened. I also remember reading something about more folks deciding to tie the knot as well.

I'm sure my son's generation will face some sort of national tragedy in his lifetime - man-made or otherwise. The implication of "Never Forget" can be profound. Not only to never forget what happened, but that we will never forget how we handled the situation, and that, ultimately, hope prevailed. We faced, and continue to face, an enemy in terrorism that can strike at any time, any place and with civilians as the target. In light of the continued threat, we continue to live, to plan, to have faith in God, to dream and to hope. The legacy to our children will be that we continued to raise the next generation and to prepare them for whatever the future might hold.

Earth Angel

2006-09-07T21:23:00.000-07:00

Ode to a Mother's Helper

One of the brightest ideas I had all summer

was to call 'Moe (Jeep's name for her) and ask her

to become an honorary family member

She gains babysitting experience with mom around

(plus $3.50 an hour)

and I get extra hands and help with

shopping trips and summer concerts

Once a week under her care

all the board books return to the shelf

the tupperware to the cupboard

and the toys to their baskets

Baby boy giggles erupt from the living room

while I put dinner on the table

Stories of sixth grade entertain us and

our wacky family antics amuse her in return

Oh happy day

today is Thursday

and Casi's on her way!

Counter Culture

2006-09-06T13:51:00.001-07:00

I've had a bit of a crisis since becoming a mother of two. The rumblings of this crisis were in the background of my experience mothering one child, but two have brought the issue to the forefront with new pain and clarity (I can only hope those with three or more have moved beyond the pain to some sort of zen state). And the issue is not quite what I had suspected it to be. I thought I was mostly challenged with the thought of myself in the role of mother, as compared to my previous roles of health care provider or avid traveler. While role adjustment disorder certainly was an issue I was contending with, I now feel it only scratched the surface.

Having two kids (or more) and no longer baby kids, I am outnumbered (obvious, I realize). Their agenda usually takes precedence and that agenda is very much NOT like my own. They want to explore emotional extremes with shrieks of joy or screams of rage--I prefer quiet and a cup of coffee. They have blissful timelessness, giving rocks hours of attention--I can't stop watching the clock, worried about being late for work/preschool/a playdate. They don't know the concept of personal space, invading mine and everyone else's--I follow behind, correcting them and apologizing to the potentially offended party. They destruct--I love order.

All of these examples illustrate, for me, my cultural being versus their childish beings. My preferences are the preferences of our culture at large and they aren't meshing with kids. So I wonder: does motherhood demand not only altering my professional role in life, but also my cultural identity? Can I really step off the fast-track, achievement-focused, "entertain me" society I belong to and still exist? I'm toying with the idea of answering, "yes." Instead of trying to figure out how to fit grad school in now--I'll try to learn how to be unscheduled. Instead of getting anxious over the fact that two tantrums and a poopy diaper is making me 20 minutes late--I'll try to rely on others' forgiveness. Instead of cringing at the disarray of my home/desk/mind--I'll try having a glass of wine (hopefully making me not care as much).

I'm just going to state outright: I don't expect to do very well with my new ideas. It's been too many years of valuing goal-oriented efficiency to expect anything less than at least a 15 year conversion process. At which time, I'll probably need to step back on the fast track again. Or maybe not...

Car shopping with children

2006-09-05T21:53:00.000-07:00

My husband is car shopping. He has decided that since it will be the car he’ll have for the next ten years it better be good. My husband, the forever wannabe surfer, has decided that he needs a car that says something about his “style”. I love this man and have known him for over 14 years and to this day I’m not quite sure he’d even had a “style”.

Regardless, me, J and the 2 kids have hit the car lots this weekend with a vengeance determined to find a family friendly car that has some style. J has ruled out mini-vans, despite all my begging, because “no self respecting man should be seen driving a mini-van”. We’ve also ruled out all uber–large SUVs – no Esclades or Expeditions. No Camrys or Accords because of J’s style issues – heck, who cares about reliability when you can look cool??

I think we may have settled on a Toyota FJ Cruiser. Our cheesy and absolutely out of touch sales associate sold us on how cool it was that it was so "industrial" - after all we could simply hose out the back after one of our many hunting excursions. The doors were fairly water tight so that when we were crossing rivers, we'd be safe. Yes, that's us the "hunting family"! Not! Hunting to us is going to a Farmer's market rather than our local grocery. Geez. This car is so unpractical - but it is better than the convertibles J has his heart set on.

Blog Mamas is typically focused on mommas and our trials and tribulations, but I thought our car shopping experience were pertinent because I forget that men have many of the same challenges in balancing their self image with what the rest of the world thinks of daddies.

I struggle on a daily basis figuring out how to maintain some kinda career, yet work part-time or at home. I balance soccer schedule and worry about whether we chose the right schools and yikes, is the Tiger Cubs ice cream social tonight? I drive kids to karate lessons and have conversations with girlfriend about how we can have it all – great part-time careers, fantastic kids and excitingly romantic rendevous with our partners. I know that I come from a privilege – not only from other women, but from many men too.

J, just doesn’t get the luxury of debating part time or not. He being an engineer and recent MBA will always make more money than me – a non-profit fundraiser. He really couldn’t handle volunteering for the school rummage sale and unfortunately, I don’t think he and his friends have conversations about how being a daddy changes you and how it should change your car choices. Don’t get me wrong, J is a wonderful father and husband. He is the first to go without to ensure that our kids keep wearing soccer cleats and me in highlights. So if purchasing a car helps him process those issues of wanting to be a cool hip dad that rolls up to baseball practice in a cool car and not a boring sedan, then so be it. I guess we mourn our “past images of our self” and our “twisted memories” of what life used to be like pre-kids in our own ways. I fantasize about the jeans I used to be able to wear.

Were we really that cool pre-Baby Bjorn? If we didn't have kids right now would we be climbing the Rubicon Trail or crossing river beds in our cool car? I don’t think so… but I guess we can pretend to with car seats in the back.

Thoughts on Tipping this Labor Day

2006-09-04T10:56:00.000-07:00

I’m--what I think--a good tipper. I consistently tip 20%--to the hairdresser, at the nail salon, and even more at restaurants, if we leave a significant mess behind (which is often the case with Ry) and the waiter doesn’t give us a dirty look.

But I’m realizing that THIS IS GETTING ME NOWHERE. I don’t get better service from being a good tipper. My last two hairdressers have both canceled on me three times each in the last six months, despite me consistently tipping 20%, which is a hefty sum, considering I’m paying for a cut and highlight. I know other clients aren’t tipping the same. My sister was shocked to find out how much I tip. And she goes to the same hairdresser and has never been canceled on.

The first inkling I had to leave my former hairdresser of five years was when I arrived 10 minutes late for an appointment and she freaked out because her next client, a male lawyer, was really uptight about punctuality. She was pretty catty with me about it, which surprised me, since over the course of a year, she made roughly $450 a year in services from him and more than $1000 off me in services and another $200 in tips! So tell me, who is the more valuable client? (omigod, that’s the first time I’ve added that up SCARY.) So when she canceled on me so she could go to her sister’s graduation and then rescheduled a week later (the day before I was to leave for my nephew’s wedding) and canceled again because she had strep throat, I finally decided to break up. I don’t expect her to work when she’s sick, but I do expect her to plan her calendar better.

So what’s the deal? Is tipping taken for granted? Am I under tipping??? Has the protocol gone up to 25 or 30% and no one has told me? Or does being a good tipper make me such a sucker that they think, “Oh she’s so nice, she won’t mind if I reschedule.” I also think that here in Silicon Valley where there’s a lot of money floating around people tip well just because they don’t want to be seen as (or acquire a reputation of) being cheap.

This topic has especially been rubbing me, ever since D returned from Japan. He’s been raving about the service he received there where it’s against custom to tip—it’s considered an insult since they take pride in their work and that’s sufficient. I also noticed that when we were in Glacier, most of the workers were foreign. Why? Because the local Montana kids don’t want those jobs and if they do have them, they provide sucky service.

I can’t help but to reflect back to when I waited tables, and I busted my ass. It helped that I lived in a small town and I was on a first-name basis with pretty much everyone who came through the door, but I only made $3.25 per hour and I lived off my tips, which averaged $30-$50 a shift which was pretty darn good considering that was in Idaho in the early 90s and people only tipped 10%, if that. So that’s why I’m good tipper (I know how hard the service jobs can be) but it just seems like today’s workers don’t merit it. Are we living in the age of entitlement? Or is this some skewed perspective I have?

With this ring...

2006-08-30T22:37:00.000-07:00

Since it’s my wedding anniversary tomorrow and I’m feeling a little guilty about my last post, here’s something a little sentimental...

One day while on our vacation (well, er…trip) to GNP, the three of us got away and drove to the East side of the Park for lunch and pie. I waited at our table while D took Ry for a stroll on the porch. I sat there watching them, reflecting on all the changes that had taken place in our lives since the last time we were in the same place a couple of years prior. As many times as I’ve thought about running away from my life in the past year, there was enough quiet joy in that moment to make up for those. Watching the two of them together, reminded me of all the reasons why I married this man and how much I’m looking forward to returning to this place year after year with my family.

My musings didn’t go unnoticed. When I went up to the register to pay, a waitress--not our waitress, but another--said to me, “I really enjoyed watching you watch your husband with your son. You had so much love in your eyes.” I was really taken aback that she not only noticed, but also said something to me about it. It's sad how a stranger had to remind me how much I really do love my little family. With how fast our lives are back in Silicon Valley, those quiet and reflective moments are few and far between.

“Back to School with Starbucks”

2006-08-29T08:43:00.000-07:00

Aaah! The frenzy of back to school preparation! I LOVE it! Okay, not really, but I keep thinking that if I say it enough times I’ll actually believe it one day. The summer always seems too short and I’m always left thinking what did we actually do?? The answer - a week here, a couple of long weekends there and a barrage of weeklong summer camps in between. As a mom of two, “Back to School” time comes with a little bit of relief that we made it through the summer in one piece and that the school year routine is right around the corner. On the other hand, it also brings a whole new set of anxiety and its own little mysteries. But I’ve come to the realization that caffeine is what has made it bearable this year. Yes, I admit to my addiction.

When it comes to school shopping, when is early enough?? I thought I’d be ahead of the game and shop for school supplies early and buy school uniforms before all the super eager incoming Kindergarten parents. The first week in August seemed to be a great time to start. I started the morning with my usual cinnamon latte from my neighborhood Starbucks. I head to Target to purchase the downloaded list of second grade school supplies. We arm wrestle a small child for the last Bat Man lunch box with thermos, whew! One hurdle passed – 21 more items to go. I get most things except the 3 Pee Chee folders. They still make peechee folders?? Is it me or are they everywhere when you don’t need one. Four stores and 2 mochas later, I decide plain folders will have to do.

I get to MerriMart, the uniform mecca of San Jose, and find that they are already out of polo shirts with the school logo. Rats! I have to special order them – wait 3 weeks! “You’re lucky you’re ‘early’,” says the chipper clerk. I think to myself gloomily, if I was really early then I wouldn’t be “special ordering” now would I? Back to have a double cappuccino.

Iced Chai in hand, I head off the following week to buy soccer cleats for the season’s first practice – didn’t we just buy a pair? Geez, when do their feet stop growing? You don’t have size 3 you say? – well, I bet they run small, let’s go with 3 ½. Two pairs of socks is not a bad thing. On the other hand, the Cub Scouts store actually had a shirt that fit – hoorah! My luck is turning – let’s have a caramel frappuccino to celebrate!

Can't wait for school to start! I need a vacation!

That One Kid

2006-08-28T20:33:00.000-07:00

Ok, so ya know that one kid who, on the first day of kindergarten, has a complete meltdown and clings to their mother in such a way that it makes you wonder if the woman has kept the child nowhere but at home for every moment of every day up until that day? The kid who is not merely nervous or scared looking, who doesn't just shed a few tears but clamps their arms around their mother's leg as if evil alien forces were tearing him away from her for all of time and eternity? The kid who has to be wrestled off their mother's leg by the teacher and sobs uncontrollably as mother exits the room? Well, that's my kid.

I swear I've taken him many, many, many places in the moments and days prior to his recent first day of kindergarten. In fact, for the last two years, I've taken him to the very same school 2-3 days every week. Yes, my screaming, clinging for dear life, seemingly tortured kindergartner attended preschool approximately 15 feet away from where he had a complete and utter if-you-love-me-you-won't-leave-me meltdown on the first day of kindergarten last Monday. Wheee.

My dear boy is just that: dear. He's funny, cute, imaginative, articulate, affectionate and good with Legos. He compliments me on my clothes and likes to give his little brother hugs. He's a good kid. He's also the kid who, if you are new to his world, might hang his head and/or hide behind my leg if you are so nervy and intrusive as to do something like say "Hi." He's also the life of the party many times. At a recent birthday party for one of his little friends, you could hear his voice above all of the other children, as he rounded them up for games and told jokes that had them all rolling. At home we often call him the "cruise director" because he has endless ideas and no qualms about announcing what event should take place next (and next and next) and then bossing everyone around to get the ball rolling. Friends of mine that have seen him in his cruise director mode are shocked when they see him in cling-to-mommy-speak-to-no-one mode. He's a mixed bag. Imagine that: a kid who is not totally predictable and has a diverse personality...well my goodness...that sounds just like.........a person!! Who knew: kids are people?!!

Sarcasm aside, the unpredictability of my son does throw me for a loop sometimes. Though, I'm becoming quite accustomed to expecting to not know what to expect. And, as my sassy tone may reveal, I'm a bit weary of those well-intentioned souls who gaze upon my alternating extrovert/introvert son with judgment. This doesn't happen often really as most moms are pretty sympathetic and generally 'get it.' I think it's usually moms (or grandmas!) who are long past the toddler stage with their own children who sometimes don't get it. No matter how well-adjusted and mature my children may become, I pray I never forget what it's like to have an unpredictable kindergartner, a runny-nosed four-year-old, a fit-throwing three-year-old, a stubborn two-year old, a smelly one-year-old or a crying like it's an Olympic event and they're going for the gold little baby.

Oh, and he was fine when I picked him up. So fine in fact, that when I asked him how he liked kindergarten he said: "I LOVED IT ALL!" I smiled...and ground my teeth only a tiny bit.

Children Behaving Badly

2006-08-27T14:39:00.000-07:00

*Note: I am writing this post from our vacation in an internet cafe. We're having a great time! Please excuse any of the spelling errors and lousy punctuation you many come accross - thanks!

We live in a day and age when parents now take their kids everywhere - even to places that were once considered adult only public venues (the one that comes to mind most readily are high-end dinning establishments). Kids, of all ages, are now found at concerts, resturaunts, movie theaters (at times, inappropriately), etc. And apparently this is not appreciated by all. There is an article in the September '06 issue of Parents magazine (www.parents.com), titled "Baby Backlash", which describes apparently two different cultural ideals, clashing. Some thinking that children belong in a certain time, place and at a very low voulme only, thank you very much - and the other choosing to have their children participate with them fully in whatever thing or event they are attending. The article specifically refers to certain resturaunts putting up signs asking parents to have their children behave appropriately. (As a fellow diner, I actually appreciate this) As a mom, and just as a person, I value children and don't understand the antiquated thought that children should be seen and not heard. Beyond that, I see children as deserving as much respect and consideration as adults - they are fully human. (Unlike the a quote I heard recently in regards to an 8-yr-old being "almost a real person" - not intended as a put down, but just as a way of noticing how big the child was getting). So my question after I read the article is: Is it really a backlash against children as a whole, or just poorly behaved ones? (And I say this as a mom who has definitely had her share of a poorly behaved child in public)

Ok, bearing all this in mind, I will share of a recent experience while being on vacation. My spouse and I had the opportunity to hire a babysitter - while on vacation - and went out to breakfast. The area we are vacationing in is a very small beach town on the Central Coast of California. The resturaunt consists mainly of an outdoor eating patio, which is shared by a public walkway and general hangout area. In fact, we've been there before with our son, and there are big cement slabs that kids just love to run around and jump off of - nobody really minds that part - it's a shared area - and the slabs aren't right next to the dinning tables. So, we are eating our breakfast and a family shows up with two kids - a boy of about 4 (maybe 5) and an almost 2 yr old girl, and the mom and grandma proceed to sit down on the patio, and the kids run off to play on the cement slabs. However, the boy proceeds to get up on one of the slabs, using it as a stage, and begins to sing a song he knows- very loudly. His singing goes on for about 10 minutes (the same song over and over), and in the span of this time, the other diners are making comments to themselves about the volume of the singing and how it's affecting their dinning experience. A waitress even walks by and loudly makes a comment in earshot of the mom about how this isn't the place for a 'show'. So, the child continues to sing and the mom then gets his attention - and I'm thinking "ok, she's going to ask him to stop, or something." Not exactly. She tells him to pick a different song. "Sing a different song?! How about stop singing, or be a little more quiet?" - that's what I was thinking. And in the midst of it all I reflected that this very thing could be the reason there is somewhat of a "Baby - or more specifically, Child - Backlash". One of the things we do try to teach our child is respect for others and thinking about how our actions could affect others. On many occasions - in public - I've had to take the litle guy aside to ask him to speak more quietly, or to change what he was doing so that it wouldn't negatively affect someone else. He's not the center of the universe, and there are activities and voice volumes that work in one's backyard, but not in other places.

Now, having shared all that . . . . . I will share a time when my son behaved very inappropriately in a resturaunt. We were eating at a family friendly establishment -the kind where you order at the counter, get a number, and the tray of food is delivered to your table. My son was about 2 & 1/2 at the time. We were sitting in a booth with a very high partition between ours and the other booth. A man, woman and two kids sat down at the booth opposite ours (over the partition). I don't know if it helps that I include this part, but I will - the man (dad?) was very rude and snobby to begin with. So they get their food, and we get ours and the meals are progressing along very normally (or as normally as meals do when you are dinning with small children), and my son grabs his napkin, crushes it into a ball - and proceeds to launch it over the partition, where it lands- on the dad's plate! At that very moment I had two compltely different reactions - I was simultaneously laughing and then trying VERY hard to stop laughing so I could let my son know that wasn't OK, and then go and apologize to the man. Maybe a better mom wouldn't have laughed, but I did. And I wholehartedly aplogized to the man, but being the jerkish snob that he was, he didn't even say a word to me. I just received an evil glare - all while his angelic children ate their meals without incident. (I still find myself laughing about this one).

So, where do I come to with all this? Children are definitely a 'work-in-progress', they have not assimilated and mastered all the social graces that most adults have. (And I say 'most adults' - many adults find it perfectly ok to engage in behavior in public that shows complete disgregard for others.) I don't think the answer to our 'delimma' (is there one?) is to have the kids stay home all the time. There has to be some degee of grace and understanding of where the kids are at - they're kids, so they are going to act like kids. But, at the same time, the parents do bear some responsibility to step in and take action in situations where the child's behavior is infringing on someone else's enjoyement of a meal or other event. (If one's child insists on screaming in a resturaunt, the parent may need to pick up that child and take them outside - been there, done that.) Please comment and let me know your thoughts on all this. Am I completely out to lunch on all this?? (With my child dinning with me, of course.)

Hunting Attacks

2006-08-26T21:57:00.000-07:00

One of my sisters suffers from what my family calls "hunting attacks." It's brought on by her husband going hunting for a few days and leaving her home with three kids. About halfway through the weekend, he's usually called home early to manage a home front crisis, much to the amusement of our man's man brother-in-law and the criticism of our well-meaning parents. Why can't she just let a man be a man?

After a week in Montana with my in-laws, I'm starting to get it. Although I didn't break out into a full "attack" of my own, I came close. It's not that I don't want D to play golf, fish, raft, and do all the things you do in the wilds of Montana (Grizzly bears and no DSL), it's just that I want to do those things too, which is complicated with Jr. in tow.

To D's credit, he's having his own mourning period of being able to do what he wants when he wants when in the manly state of Montana. Having a wife and child has cramped his style dramatically and he's taking it fairly well (and is leagues ahead of any man in my family). That being said, if I was the stand-by-your-man-woman my Idaho upbringing should have taught me to be, I have a sneaking suspicion that he'd be content to let the women and the children keep the home fires burning, while he goes after "the big one" (what man wouldn't?).

Although I already know this, I was reminded this week--again--that I AM NOT the mother or wife of previous generations and frankly, don't have many role models in that regard. My mom was a homemaker and although I’m starting to fall into a similiar category, I think it means something very different today and is still being defined. And, sometimes I wish that I didn’t’ have to be the one to define--or defend it.

Darn Nature

2006-08-24T22:47:00.000-07:00

Even as I come up for air after a very busy, tiring, stressful, sleep-deprived (although meaningful, touching, rewarding, awe-inspiring) 14+ months that were kicked off by one of the world's longest labor and birth experiences (about 54 hours of active labor at 2 full weeks past my very accurate due date)... I've caught myself having "baby urges." Are you KIDDING? In my mind I know I am not ready for another baby right now! At the same time I am surprised at the power of the procreating instinct.

I expect that Jeeper will get a sibling (not yet sure if it will be bio or adopted which is a whole different discussion/post for another time).

But not ANY day soon.

Favorite Finds

2006-08-23T18:20:00.000-07:00

It is interesting how easy it is to come up with favorite kid-related items. I even feel kind of cult-ish in my love for some of them, as if absolutely NOTHING else would do (which is, of course, untrue). I am the mother of a one and a three-year-old, and these items most certainly reflect that fact. When I was a very new mother, I was really averse to spending much money at all on our new baby. Everything was either a hand-me-down or a consignment find. While I continue to maintain that we Americans are insane when it comes to buying for our kids, I spent full-price (often a large full-price) on all of these items and I haven't regretted it on a single one.

Phil and Teds Double "E3" Buggy
Words cannot describe my affection for this two-kid-carrier. The stacked design makes it smaller when assembled or collapsed than either my single stroller (Graco-yuck!) or my single jogger (Baby Jogger). It is incredibly easy to maneuver and the kids enjoy sitting in either seat. Although I feel like I'm betraying a dear friend by criticizing the buggy in any way, I will say that the stroller can tip backwards if only the lower seat has a child in it (i.e. Mama picks up the screaming toddler from the upper seat only to have the preschooler dumped back and crying in surprise as well). Other than that, though, it has been worth every PENNY--I use it everyday and then some. Speaking from a Seattle perspective, these are becoming very popular and hold their value. A good friend was looking on Craigslist and actually saw one posted (this almost never happens) for 90% of its' value new (it was gone within an hour of its' posting). Find out more at philandteds.com

Ergo Baby Carrier

Designed for infants who can sit up on their own thru children aged 3-5 years, this lightweight, simple design is fabooooo. When my son was an infant I remember the complete joy I felt in satisfying his desire to be held while allowing me the ability to actually get something done. If the child falls asleep, there is a little swath of fabric that you can secure over his or her head so they are quite cozy as long as you wish to hold them. We've used this carrier on all of our travels: it is very compact, you know where the kid is, your hands are free, and they usually think the ride is pretty fun. The older design can hold a child in the front or the back. The newer ones also have a side carrying function. ergobabycarrier.com

Stokke Tripp Trapp (aka Kinderzeat)

Looking for a way to minimize furniture (i.e. get rid of the highchair), I saw one of these in a friend's house and loved the all of its' unobtrusiveness. Another dear friend then shared that the family she had nannied for 15 years ago had a set of these chairs and they proved functional through the teenage years. I was sold. The seat and footrest are adjustable so that the kiddo can start using it at age 1 (some even claim earlier) and the parents just keep adjusting until the child or, more likely, adult weighs 150 lbs (the chair's limit). Still mothering the younger, messier types, I do occasionally miss the highchair's tray, as there is lots of food on and under our table now. However it is worth it for the sake of less clutter& having kids actually sitting at the table with us. They come in pretty wood or fun bright colors: stokkeusa.com

Bobike Child Bike Seat

We visited a good friend in Holland when our son was just over a year old. As you've probably heard, the Dutch get around on bikes (a lot of bikes) and this is how those Dutch get their kids around with them! While we were there, we rented bikes, including on with the child seat, used it for a week, and decided we had to have it. Our boy had never been so content in car seat nor stroller--he thought biking was a utter thrill! The seat attaches to the bike frame--a small child in front (up to 15kg) and a larger child in back (up to 30kg). They were a little hard to come by in the US and I couldn't find the website I ordered mine from, but here is another option: koolstop.com/bobike/bobike.html

Seattle is a wee bit more hilly than Holland, so I cannot bike as far as I dreamed that I would with two kids in tow. However, it is a great fun way to run around the neighborhood and not have to fight with the kids getting in and out of the car for the post office, grocery store, etc. Additionally, when we are riding around, I feel like we are doing our part to bring joy to the world because everyone looks, smiles, and comments.

New Blue Shoes

2006-08-20T22:47:00.000-07:00

On Saturday I made a first-time visit to Me ‘N Moms and I hit a "Mom Find" grand slam!

Run number one: The store itself which was neat, clean, well-organized and well-stocked. An anomaly in the world of consignment.

Run number two: The great clothes I found for Jeeper including a new Babystyle long sleeve tee (for FOUR BUCKS!) and a funky dinosaur tee by Tangerine (a hard-to-find boutique designer of boy clothes).

Run number three: The perfect walking toy. On the way to the store, I was wishing I had a walking toy for Jeep, but I didn’t want to spend much money. How about a gently used Little Tikes Activity Walker for 8 dollars? Yes, thank you!

The final run: Brand new, too cute, blue shoes! M n’ M’s sells new shoes by Robeez and See Kai Run and I scored the last pair of the discontinued, but still so cool, Marek sandal. I couldn't believe it. They are the perfect size for Jeep’s feet, the timing is perfect for our trip to SoCal next week, and can't beat the perfect $19.95 price.

Yay, team!!!

"Healthy meals and good books"

2006-08-19T13:57:00.000-07:00

As a working mother, I have always worried about whether my kids were going to turn into Chinese take out cartons or become best friends with the drive thru guy at Mc Donalds. Healthy meals and ready the moment we get home is never synonymous. But I have found something that has been a lifeline www.dreamdinners.com

Dream Dinners, founded by two working mothers, has helped me on many occasions put a healthy meal on the table quickly and without much effort. You go to their website, check out the monthly menu and select the meals you want. You then go to the store and assemble your meals. It is fun, feels like you are actually cooking and in about 90 minutes you walk out with 12 meals that feed 6 people each. You defrost in the morning before you leave for work and then either pop in the oven or cook on your stove when you get home. Make a salad and some rice and you’re good to go! For a family of 4, you either have two full meals or a dinner and then lunch for the adults, depending on how much of a hit it was at the dinner table.

It seems a bit pricey at first, but I have cut back on buying dinner groceries and just buy side dish stuff. BTW - if you are vegetarian, this option may not work well for you. Most of their dishes are meat based. My family doesn’t eat these meals every day, but once or twice a week it is great. It also forces me to cook things I wouldn’t normally, like paella and Caribbean Pork Roast. Me and my family love it!

My other recommendation is a place for bi-lingual children’s books. Being Filipino-American, I rarely find books with Filipino faces and stories. Until recently, there were no books written in both English and Tagalog (Filipino native language). A few year ago, I discovered Children’s Book Press in San Francisco. They publish, Lakas and the Manilatown Fish, a story about a young Pilipino boy and a magic fish. Not only does it have beautiful art, but it shares a lot about our culture. Children’s Book Press has stories about kids growing up in the US from Mexico, Vietnam, Korea, Central America and the list goes on. All stories share about their culture and are written in two languages side by side, not in different books. The CBP website also has lesson plans for teachers and are always looking for folks to write good stories. Check it out at www.childrensbookpress.org.

One Stroller to Rule Them All

2006-08-17T22:43:00.000-07:00

Like most expectant mothers, I carefully researched baby gear during my pregnancy. I knew our sweet baby would require the breast, a car seat, diapers and clothes. Everything else was superfluous and I was determined to find the best basics. In many areas, my frugality and minimalism paid off. Skipping the infant carseat and starting right off with the Britax Roundabout convertible carseat worked just fine. Jeep didn’t seem to miss the baby swing and the excersaucer we never bought. But I was most proud of our selection of the Mountain Buggy Urban Single stroller. So many parents I knew had a closet, trunk or garage full of strollers. But we needed only one. I was self-righteous about the simplicity and singularity of our Buggy. The MBUS was a travel stroller, jogging stroller, and mall stroller all rolled up in one smooth-turning, show-stopping, hot orange package.

Which leads me to my "Mom Find" item. The Maclaren Volo stroller. Ahem. Yes, my solo stroller smugness has vanished. When I needed to take my son to San Francisco for a quick business trip, I worried about hauling the 25 pound Buggy through SeaTac, BART, and the Westin St. Francis. So I read a few reviews, found an online special and purchased a carbon colored Maclaren Volo sight unseen. The carrying strap and 11 pound total weight convinced me to make the purchase, but the one-handed operation and delicate ride have stolen my heart. The Buggy still dominates for trails and car trips, but the Volo is the ride of choice for shopping and airports. This particular "Mom Find" has convinced me that although we can get by without a pack-n-play, a second, lightweight stroller is a must have!

"Nice pants."

2006-08-16T14:17:00.000-07:00

My darling five-year-old son starts kindergarten this Monday, which means I'm alternating between sentimental sighs and counting-down-the-minutes-giddyness. I can't believe my first born babe will be leaving (I use the term loosely) to conquer the worlds of upper and lower case letters, vowel sounds and yellow plus red makes ________. I see no reason to break the bank for school supplies and clothes for the tyke, but I did want to outfit him with some quality goods for the year, in part because he has a younger brother and I have high hopes that some of these purchases will last for round two. We'll see.

So here are my great finds for the preschool/kindergarten set:

1. Thermos bottles that keep ice cubes icy for hours and hours. I purchased these at Target and while they're a bit pricey, they are altogether worth it as I can load them up with ice cubes and water at 9:00am and after hours of sloshing around in a hot car, the ice cubes are still rattling around at 3:30pm! I'll be sending one to school with my kindergartner but they've come in very handy this summer and have kept play dates at the park from having to be cut short due to overheated children. Hear hear for anything that can soothe a hot and cranky toddler and allow for that much more play time outdoors! They come with an extra plastic straw too. (I think they were $17 and $13)

2. A backpack that isn't equal in size to the child who carries it. Ok, is it just me or do backpacks these days seem overly ginormous? What the heck? I just don't remember lugging around the equivalent of a going-up-the-Nile suitcase on my back in elementary school. Besides, just what exactly do these kids NEED to carry to and from school? I don't get it—especially for a five or six-year-old. I do foresee the need for a small backpack for my son from time to time so I've been on the lookout for a reasonably-sized one as my husband and I would also like to not spend our children's college fund on chiropracter bills. Once again, I found just the thing at Target: a khaki-colored Eddie Bauer backpack that is smaller than all the others and is very cute ($25). Alas, his royal highness found the red plaid lining to be utterly unnacceptable. Go figure. Hoping I'd find another, I didn't purchase the EB backpack but spotted a couple boys sporting some nifty smallish blue packs a few days after I saw the EB one at Target. I asked their mom about them and she directed me toThe Children's Place where I found this great small pack that is just right for my 45-pound son. For boys, they come in a camo/orange combo or shades of blue. (I didn't actually check out the girl's side of the store. Sorry...I have two sons and I was shopping with both of them in tow. Speed was of the escense.) I lobbyed for the blue one and after a longing look at the camo version I was told "Welllll....oooooook. I'll get the blue one" in a rather resigned tone of voice. ($15)

3. Pants with reinforced knees. (Cue the halelujah chorus.) I'm sure I am one of many, many mothers of boys who have looked sadly at the completely worn through knees of her son's pants....in December. (My son has had two years of preschool and managed to wear our the knees of his pants in only 3 hours a day, 3 times a week!) With at least five more months of school facing a non-sewing mother such as myself, worn through knees by Christmastime are a real bummer, especially when the rest of the pair of pants is in completely good shape. So when I found these practical cuties at Gymobree, I did a little jig and had a helpful employee check the back for a few more pairs in my son's size. They're presently on sale for $20 each. I have high hopes for these pants!

Those are my three primary mommy finds as of late...other than canned salmon which is my new mommy lunch of choice. It's delish whipped up like tuna salad but in a pinch, I've been known to eat it straight from the can. Tacky I know...but at least I don't eat it from the can while in the car. Yet.

Baja Fresh Keeps Crazy Mom Sane

2006-08-15T21:56:00.000-07:00

This post kicks off a Blog Mama Series on Mom Finds. We’ll be featuring our favorite things over the next week.

Anyone who knows me very well knows that Baja Fresh is a drug to me. If I'm having a blood sugar dip or am just in a foul mood, steak taquitos turns it all around. It's times like this that my loved ones wonder if I really am bipolar and if Baja is the self-medicating treatment of choice. Lately, I've had a little too much Baja and it has more to do with their awesome high chairs then with my steak habit.

Since I try to keep the house in "ready-to-show" condition these days, we eat at home as infrequently as possible. And the truth is, Baja is just the best home away from home for us. Their highchairs rock so hard, I'm considering selling my Peg Perego on eBay and buying a Rubbermaid Commercial Highchair just like theirs. Unlike those wood-boxy ones found in most restaurants (which despite matching many a restaurant décor, just SUCK), these have a matching tray and the tray slides all the way to the kid's chest, which is an important feature, I’ve come to learn.

When I fell in love with my leatherette Peg Perego, I read reviews that said that the tray didn’t slide in far enough and left a gap. I thought at the time, no big deal, why would you want to risk suffocating your kid between the tray and the chair anyway? Besides, the leather-look was soooo nice and neutral and matched my kitchen perfectly. BUT NOW, I see. If we had a tray that I could slid flush to Ry’s skin, we’d keep 99% of his food off the floor and I’d be working a whole lot less.

My own cravings aside, Ry really is great at Baja, which at this point, matters more than whether or not I like the taste of my food. Because at Baja, he’ll at least sit still and be quiet (shoveling in quesadilla and guacamole) long enough for me to eat at all. He seems to really like the food there, which makes me wonder if they’ve added some addictive ingredient or if it’s a genetic trait, or of it’s found memories of being in the womb. But all I can say, is that my great mom find of the week, no, of the year, is lunch at Baja Fresh. It’s the only thing keeping us sane.

Am I Really Going to Post About This?

2006-08-14T09:20:00.000-07:00

Yes, I guess I am.

Now, I've not been a huge watcher of Oprah in my mothering life, but I do have stretches of time where I'll catch it fairly regularly (thank you, TiVo). And then I don't watch it at all for months - who has the time?? Anyhow, I got to thinking the other day, I'm not really a fan of her particular philosophies or her life message, and she can really get preachy about it sometimes, but I do think her show has focused on issues that really need to be dealt with, acknowledged, discussed, etc. So, here's my list of the Good and Bad about Oprah.

Good:
1. Her segments that focus on needed humanitarian efforts AND the needed financial resources she personally, and her Angel Network, provide for those causes. (Hurricane Katrina relief, the aftermath of the Tsunami in Indonesia, women's medical and health issues in African nations, AIDS education and relief, and SO many others I'm forgetting at this moment.)

2. Her vigilance in speaking out about child molestation/child predators (especially via the internet), AND posting the photos of WANTED child molesters - who ended up being aprehended once they were identified.

3. Bringing to light societal 'secret' issues such as, the child trafficking/prostitution rings in America, Crystal Meth use among stay-at-home Suburban moms, and the whole "On the Down Low" issue - gay african american men - something I knew absolutely nothing about before I watched her show.

4. The fashion shows for REAL women's bodies, and helping to identify what clothing work best. I love that she included the Dove Real Beauty campaign and the women they feature in their advertising.

5. Her message to mothers, that they are doing 'the hardest job in the world'.

Bad:
1. The Tom Cruise show (I caught that one the day it aired - oh my)

2. The flip side of any celebrity show - meaning - when she has celebrities on, she's very gracious and chummy with them all - which I understand. Here's the 'flip side' of that: She has 'real' folks on, and REALLY takes them to task over stuff. On the "When I Knew" show ( as in 'when I knew I was gay') she had a mother and teenage daughter on (the teenage daughter was gay) and the mom was being very honest about her feelings about it and Oprah just raked her over the coals about it. I mean, quite a few parents out there would struggle with having a child tell them they're gay, and Oprah seemed to want to make an example out of this lady. If that's how she feels, ok, but my issue is that she would NEVER talk to a celebrity that way.

3. The Concerts. Sometimes I do like the musical artists she has on, but I just don't think it works on a daytime TV show format. (Although, the Faith Hill one was pretty good - and I don't even listen to Country).

4. The whole James Frey "A Million Little Pieces" - book thing. Wow, that was crazy. I didn't like that she pushed that book so hard from the beginning, and for the longest time prior to that said that there wasn't much out there in the literary world worth putting on her book club. (What?! Why does she decide what is 'good' or 'worthy' writing?)

Well, I guess that's all I've got so far. I don't even know if I'll catch any of the episodes in the fall season since my son no longer naps *sigh*. (I'm still in mouring over the loss of naps). The whole Oprah thing is just funny in a way. I have some friends who are borderline-snobby about it - in that they do NOT watch Oprah, thank you very much. And then there are others who watch it - every. single. day. (My little sis Tivo's it and watches it at night.) Ok, and here's my last Oprah comment - a question really: Why are guys so opposed to watching it? (Let us all hear the men say in unison "Chick Show") Like it somehow calls into question their masculinity if they even admit to watching an episode. Here's a show idea for her! Men Who Watch Oprah ( . . . And the Women Who Make Them - jk). I think I'll send her an email now.

Parents Night Out

2006-08-13T21:56:00.000-07:00

I meant to post on Saturday, but I forgot in utter excitement of Parents Night Out! This Saturday, we and 6 other couples, went child free to dinner. After dropping off the 9 children with my father and his 11 year old “head assistant” (who are saints for taking them all on) and 2 large pizzas, brownies and Capri suns, we headed out for a fine Italian meal.

I have to say it was awesome to have “adult conversation”. I had almost forgotten what those are like. Yes, we did dip into conversations about our children’s bowel movements, favorite princess costumes and their ability to be obsessed with dinosaurs, trains and goldfish crackers all at the same time. But it was a little slice of heaven. For the longest time – an exciting Friday night was picking out a new DVD! The fun never stops at our house.

We ventured to a trendy bar after dinner. It was something out of my world. Certainly pre-children I would’ve have been ready to a have shot of good tequila or a dreamy martini. But this evening, I was content holding my husband’s hand and not worried about whether one of my children was trying to dive head first into a fountain. (which happened last week) It was fun to reminisce about what we were like pre-kids and fantasize about life after the pre-school years. I’m hoping a “monthly date night” becomes a reality. Though I have to say, sometimes a night playing Monopoly Junior with the kids and going to bed by 10 p.m. is tough to beat!

This luxury – Parents Night Out – is one I HIGHLY recommend. Putting on makeup and thinking about putting on a fun sun dress as opposed to work wear or something that hides kids finger prints was exciting! Definitely some kinda statement on where I am today. We rarely higher sitters – but wow, it such a reminder that we really need one more often!

BTW- Dad did fine with all the kids. Almost all were asleep in the living room when we got home and my father wasn’t tied up with a gag in his mouth:) whew – he may actually volunteer again.

Motherhood is the Antonym of Makeover

2006-08-13T11:50:00.000-07:00

I didn’t live a picture perfect life before my son was born, but in the last year, most areas of my exterior life have deteriorated. The other day a colleague who lives near me jogged by my house and I waved her over. As we chatted in the driveway for a few minutes I looked around and realized how much has changed in the last 14 months.

That morning I had “styled” my wet hair using the car vent blasting on high. The little makeup I was wearing had been hastily applied at a stoplight. Jeep was slimy (from the banana the produce clerk gave him that morning) and dirty (from crawling in our dusty lawn that hasn't been watered) and he had wiped a good amount of banana on my shirt. The dandelions in our yard were almost 2 feet high and our decorative grass was so overgrown that you can barely get in the front door (we use the garage door and are able to ignore the problem). I couldn’t invite my co-worker inside because I knew that the living room was covered in toys, the kitchen table was cluttered with months of paper, the sink was full of dirty dishes, our bedroom floor was a mountain of dirty laundry and the bed frame was covered with clean laundry washed a week before. Plus I didn’t want her to see the Pepsi and soft tacos that I had just picked from Taco Bell.

Sigh.

I’m thrilled to have my son in my life and am honored to be his mother, but sometimes I get overwhelmed by the pace and magnitude of change brought about by parenthood. I’m still learning the balance between self-care and self-sacrifice, but I think I get it right when I choose book reading over blow-drying, laughing over laundry and hugs over housework. So while I think my priorities are going through an appropriate makeover, please don’t come over for a photo shoot anytime soon!

Realtor or Intruder?

2006-08-13T09:47:00.000-07:00

A very creepy thing happened last week. As you know, our townhome is currently for sale and we have a lockbox, something I’ve never been quite comfortable with, but was willing to trust the process for the sake a selling my home. As time went on, I became more easy about it—until this happened:

It’s not often D is at home at 4 pm in the afternoon during the week, but thank god it happened to him and not me. D’s sitting on the couch (Ry's napping) when the lock turns on our front door and a random guy wearing a football jersey and a baseball cap waltzes in. He sees D and freezes. D says, “Can I help you?” He replies, “Sorry man, I thought this place was vacant.” D proceeds to ask him if he tried to call, why he didn’t knock, if he had clients, if he had a card, etc. Turns out he doesn’t have a card on him, so he goes to his car to get one (at this point D is thinking that if he doesn’t produce a card in 20 seconds he was going to call the police). The guy does come back with a card with his picture on it and the name of the mortgage company he works for. He was extremely apologetic.

So D contacts our realtor, who investigates and finds out that Intruder’s boss loaned him his lockbox key so that he could show a place he bought to his sister and his mother. But he took the liberty to look at comps, but apparently doesn't know realtor protocol, BECAUSE HE'S NOT A REALTOR. According to our realtor, the Guy Who Owns the Lockbox Key, was also extremely apologetic (as he should be) and wanted to do "something to make it right” and offered to buy us dinner.

There’s nothing he can do to make it right (outside of buying our place over asking price). Now, we've taken the lockbox off. Which totally sucks for us, since now, it could take longer to sell our home. We may come up with an alternate plan, like having deadbolts installed that can only be unlocked from the inside and have Guy Who Owns the Lockbox Key pay for it and then we keep the lockbox. This solves the problem of our personal safety, but not that of our personal property. After this incident, it makes you wonder who could be in our home doing who knows what at any given moment. And, you wouldn't know about it, especially since this guy had no intention of leaving his card.

But the bigger question is, and this is what I need your help on: should Guy Who Owns the Lockbox Key be reported to the realtor board and face potentially loosing his license over this? What I’m trying to get my head around is whether or not something shady was going on or just extreme stupidity. In any respect, it’s against realtor ethics to lend out your key, so he’s already done something wrong not to mention idiotic. I'd hate myself if someone got hurt becuase I didn't report a potential scam, but I also wonder how much one should have to pay for an err in judgement, if that was in fact going on. Need your input, anyone and everyone.

"Figure it out boys!"

2006-08-12T14:56:00.000-07:00

My husband mentioned this article, A Nation of Wimps, to me recently and though it took me three days to read all eight pages of it, I found it thoroughly fascinating. (Don't be scared, they're internet-sized pages so they're not really that long.) I also felt a bit encouraged as I'm the mom who can frequently be overhead saying (not yelling....sometimes) "Figure it out boys!" in response to my sons' squabbling.

And what does this photo have to do with this? Not much...cute though, aren't they?!

At Any Given Moment

2006-08-12T00:01:00.000-07:00

At any given moment I need to...
• sort through everything on the "catch-all" counter in the kitchen (aarggggggh!)
• start/fold/put away laundry
• catch up on returning emails
• file the stack of paid bill receipts
• start/fold/put away laundry
• start/fold/put away laundry
• load/unload the dishwasher
• start/fold/put away laundry
• scrub out the bathtub
• empty the trash
• vacuum the area rug where my kids sit and snack
• help (ha ha ha ha ha!) my kids clean their room
• have I mentioned the laundry?

At any given moment I'd like to...
• go out with my husband
• go out with a friend
• drink something from Starbucks
• be done with the laundry
• be at the beach
• not think ONE BIT about what I eat
• see my children smile
• hear my children laugh
• have a clean house...for more than 10 minutes at a time
• eat a meal that I did not buy, prepare or have to clean up
• be tan
• be done with the laundry

How 'bout you???

A part time job. REALLY???

2006-08-11T00:01:00.000-07:00

I previously posted the following on the Silicon Valley Mom’s Blog and received quite a flurry of comments including: “Y'all just reminded me of Robert Altman's movie "Short Cuts," in which a young mom is trying to run a phone sex business while feeding and taking care of her toddler.” Interesting. I hadn’t thought of that one. Would probably pay pretty well. Don’t you think? Now onto the post:

I really appreciated Lucy’s post (Lucy is a fellow SV Mom Blogger). I too, in my writing here want to focus more on moms--not necessarily mothering issues, but more about adjusting to and being a mom and an individual. I appreciated Lucy for absolving me of the guilt. And, she’s inspired me to write about something that’s been festering for a couple days:

On my Lock up your Apples post, I mentioned that my days of working in an office were rose-colored, which related more to why I’m resentful of my husband’s job at times and less to my desire to work. But a commenter wrote, “So why don't you hire some help and work part time?”

This rubs me the wrong way for a couple reasons. First it assumes things about me that may or may not be true (1. that I don’t work 2. that I want to work) and felt a little dismissive about my resentful feelings toward my husband’s job, which is really more like me resenting his position in society. My career is significantly compromised because I chose to be a mom whether I work or not. My taking a part-time job (or even a full time job for that matter) is not going to fix those feelings. I also used the term “rose colored” in my original post, meaning that now, working seems cooler than it really was—the grass is always greener, as Seattle Sun pointed out last month.

I—like every other mom—am just trying to find the right balance and one of the things that keeps coming up is that there is very, very, little external validation for being a mom. And by suggesting that “I get a part-time job,” this fellow mom reinforced the belief that the only way to feel good about what you do is to work.

The truth is, I do work, when I want to, which lately isn’t very often. It’s nice that I have that kind of flexibility. But even still, because the daily demands are so high, that in order for me to do this work, I would have no down time, ever. The reality is, I’d rather just be with my kid, but that’s very hard for me to do because I’m such a sucker for external validation. I just wish our society could see how important mothering is and reward me for it (read my post on wanting the nanny’s job).

You can read all the commentary on the original post here.

Five First Year Favorites – Breastfeeding Stuff

2006-08-10T00:10:00.000-07:00

Blog Mama reminded me that August is World Breastfeeding Month, so to celebrate, I thought I’d share my breastfeeding story and review some of my favorite nursing products. I’m not exactly a lactivist, but I believe that mothers deserve lots of breastfeeding encouragement and I would love to see our society become much more supportive of nursing.

After the pretty standard painful start, Jeep and I were able to manage breastfeeding although it seemed like I produced just exactly enough milk. When he was three and a half months old and I returned to work, I had enough stored milk to get him through one day. So everyday I would pump like crazy at work, rush to the daycare center to nurse at lunch, drink tons of water, swallow fenugreek caplets until I smelled like maple syrup and we still lived from bottle to bottle! My supply started to drop from all the stress so I finally bought a can of organic formula. Jeeper happily sucked down the bottles of formula in between the bottles of breastmilk and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I didn’t get to relax for long because after about two weeks, he started balking at the formula and within one more week he completely refused it. So I was once again chained to the breast pump praying that I wouldn’t spill even one drop of the "white gold."

At six months we started to introduce fruit and veggie baby foods so the pressure began to let up. Things got easier as Jeep ate more foods and now I only pump once a day and each afternoon at daycare he has one bottle of breastmilk. He is almost 14 months old and he still nurses in the mornings, evenings and nights – most of the time I love it although there are some frustrating moments. Originally I hoped to be able to breastfeed for one year and now I hope to nurse for at least two years.

I encourage every mom to consider breastfeeding. It is rarely easy so you’ll need lots of tools, support and determination. The two pieces of advice that helped me the most were: 1.) Take it one day at a time. Sometimes when it isn’t going well it is hard to imagine pushing through the challenge to make it to some far off goal (like 6 months or one year) but you can probably make it until tomorrow and that is enough. 2.) If things aren’t going well or you have a question or problem, ask for help (some resources to try are a lactation consultant, La Leche League meeting, midwife, doula, doctor, mom’s group, female family member or friend with nursing experience or even the internet) and if that person or resource doesn’t help, ask someone else. Rarely does the same advice or solution help everyone so keep seeking answers.

Breastfeeding Product Reviews

Hug Nursing Bra by Japanese Weekend – The Hug bra is by far my favorite nursing bra (I own three of them and would love to buy one or two more). I bought and wore my first one in late pregnancy because it was soft and stretchy and it accommodated my expanding chest. I was so grateful to have it in the first weeks of nursing when I needed to wear a bra 24 hours a day; it was even comfortable for sleeping. Like many new moms, my breasts were extremely tender and sore when I was first learning to breastfeed so a very soft bra was of paramount importance! After the soft, stretching fabric, my second favorite feature is the layered style which creates easy access for breastfeeding. Because there are no clips or snaps, it is easy to operate with one hand. I always lift the cup up which provides a smidge more privacy than bra styles that only drop down to give the baby access. (Note, the photo shows the pulled down cup position, but it is just as easy to pull the cup up.) I throw these bras in the washer and dryer (probably not ideal) and they have held up beautifully. The only potential downside is this bra is on the lighter end of support so it may not be a great all-day bra for moms who need firm support.

Lansinoh Lanolin – I’m still not sure why rubbing sheep grease on very sore and tender nipples helps, but it does. (It would make sense to me if they were just dry and cracked, but they weren’t dry and cracked as much as they were raw and cracked. Sorry, but it is true!) Anyway, one tip is to rub some lanolin in between your fingers to soften it and then put it on the nursing pad which you then gently set on your sweet tender ladies. M-u-c-h better than trying to rub cold, stiff lanolin directly onto sore, sore girls. Yee-ouch! Lansinoh is a reliable brand for quality and purity and I found that one tube was more than enough to get me past the painful part. Now I use it on my dry elbows.

Lansinoh First Days Ultra Soft Nursing Pads – The regular Lansinoh nursing pads were high on my list, but during those sore first weeks, the ultra-soft nursing pads were my favorite! They are more curved than the rest, plus they are puffy cloud soft.

Lansinoh Breastmilk Storage Bags – These are the best, no question. They are easy to open, easy to fill, easy to zip, easy to label, easy to freeze and easy to pour. I avoid bags that use twist ties because they easily leak.

Medela Pump in Style Backpack – If you are returning to work, you MUST have an electric, double breast pump. (Even if you are not going back to work, you should get one.) I heard and read this advice when I was expecting but it didn’t really sink in until almost too late. After Jeep was born I went to the nearest drug store and bought a manual pump. The manual pump worked okay for expressing a little milk if I got engorged and I used it to pump a few ounces after we had breastfeeding established. But once I needed to pump three or more times a day at work, the only way to go was the double electric pump. An angelic friend lent me her Medela “Pump-in-Style” Backpack so I haven’t tried the newer Advanced version. The original one worked fine and the backpack was super handy for hauling to work and back everyday. My dear friend also gave me all my own new replacement pump parts so nothing “used” was ever touching me or my breastmilk. Remember that not only is it ideal to give your baby as much breastmilk as you can, formula is expensive so think of the purchase of a high quality breast pump as an investment.

To see more product reviews, check out my post on my top ten favorites: Baby Stuff.

Rocky Mountain High

2006-08-09T00:10:00.000-07:00

Our family has just returned from vacation at my grand-parents' cabin, high in the Montana Rockies, near Yellowstone Park. It is beautiful there, stunningly beautiful. As I was moving through all those familiar rooms, forests, and streams I've known since I was in diapers, I realized that taking my children to that place every year felt critically important. I recognized again how much of me was defined by running around freely outside, learning about animals (how to enjoy some, like elk, and how to avoid others, like bears), exploring streams, and working as a family (the cabin has been a project since it's purchase almost 80 years ago).

One of my earliest pleasant memories is of falling asleep in one of the cabin bedrooms, my sister by my side, listening to the rain falling on the tin roof. It is almost my definition of cozy sleepiness to be under a pile of blankets in the cold mountain air while the rain drums overhead. One night last week, I had the task of putting my three-year-old son down to bed. I should say my son and I are not in an easy stage of our relationship right now (long story, another post), so bedtime often involves a lot of negotiating on his part and irritations on my part. That particular night, I had agreed to stay in bed with him if he agreed to stay quiet so that his sister wouldn't wake up in the next bed. He kept to his word, but whatever he sacrificed in noise, he made up for in wiggling. After about 10 minutes of his horizontal acrobatics and my silent annoyance, a soft rain started sounding on the roof. Within seconds, as if by magic, his body relaxed and then stilled. Sleep! Just like that! I paused to stare at his beautiful face and be filled again with my intense love of his little body and soul.

Since we adopted our daughter in January, I have been overwhelmed and, frankly, uncertain of so much of what I am doing in the realm of motherhood. I haven't always been this way. Pre-babies, I was a confident and capable person in the roles I filled. With one baby, I felt initially overwhelmed but then things settled in and was sure I could handle multiple children. Now, I often wonder if I've made a huge mistake, than I am simply the blind leading the blind. However, that night, I felt this blessed moment of KNOWING I was giving my child a wonderful thing. Following my son's lead, I too relaxed, so thankful for the goodness of the earth and those family rituals that make us who we are.

The Never Ending Hunger

2006-08-08T00:33:00.000-07:00

This is not a philosophical post, nor is it a spiritual one.

One might think from the title that it refers to something like Jesus talking to the woman at the well about her thirst, and the Living water - OR - even the whole idea that God's word is our daily bread.

No, I'm talking about food, people, and how amazed I am at how hungry I get when my day is spent, taking care of ONE little boy. Not only do I need 3 squares a day, but often snacks too. There must be something about helping a 3 yr-old get dressed, driving on various errands, listening to his questions, requests, demands, and cries. Then there's the laundry, spending time on the phone with various vendors one needs to speak with when dealing with household issues (today is was the insurance company), and figuring out what to make for dinner and then making it. I've left out so much, and have not even included any kinds of interruptions that occur and my need to incorporate them into an already full day. I live in a beach town in Southern California, and so I see ALOT of very thin women, many of whom are moms and I don't know how they do it. If I tried to be that skinny (which would mean eating alot less than I do now) I would be the crankiest mom on the planet due to extreme hunger. Sometimes it's so bad I simply cannot focus on what is going on and I just need to stop whatever is happening at the moment and GET SOME FOOD, DANG IT! I don't think mothers of small children were designed (or destined??) to have biceps the diameter of one's wrist, or to wear sizes such as "0" or "2". (Although, if you do and all is going well for you, more power to ya). Now please excuse me while I go eat . . . . again.

"My Monastery is a Minivan"

2006-08-07T08:47:00.000-07:00

Okay this is going to sound very weird...BUT I LOVE my car! Well maybe not the car itself, but the idea of it. My car at first glance is absolutely disgusting. I don't park it in a garage, so it constantly has that layer of grime and tree sap, sometime kitty paw prints adorn the hood. The inside is constantly strewn with sippy cups, crushed gold fish crackers, soccer cleats, pre-school books, old coffee cups and something that fell from my make up bag. My husband, John, is always amazed by the "treasures" he finds in my RX300.

I admit its a bit embarrasing at times, expecially when co-workers, non mothers or just anyone any penchant for cleanliness gets in my car - but to me it just sings motherhood! I picked up My monastery is a Minivan, by Denise Roy. It has saved my life a few times. When things get tough or just crazier than usual, I think of her short stories about her life with her minivan and her 4 children - that just seem to put things in perspective for me, since I struggle everyday with only 2!

My SUV has become one of the best places I connect with my children and husband. In the confines of my little car, we talk about what they did that day. I find out who they played with on the playground and find out about what they are looking forward to about the next day -- all the things that matter to them in their world at that moment. When we take long road trips, my husband and I always spend time talking about the future and reflecting on what crises we've mastered in the last few months - like potty training! yee haw! Who has time for that kind of conversation on a daily basis - before or after the kids take a bath?

I've come to terms with the fact that my car is the place where I can count on getting at least 15 minutes of peace between the time I drop off the kids and head into work. My car gives me the luxury of a little time to get myself together and think about things that matter- like making sure I don't have breakfast stuck between my teeth. Maybe even put on lipstick! Ah! ain't life grand!

BTW - I am wishing for a new car. I'm looking at a 2003 Eurovan. Anyone have one???

Wrestle Mania

2006-08-06T18:09:00.000-07:00

I grew up with two brothers and I recall a good amount of wrestling at our house. While my older brother was on the actual wrestling team in junior high, what I remember most is the three of us rolling around on the floor trying to "pin" each other. Knowing my past, I'm not surprised that Jeeper likes to wrestle. But I am surprised that he is such a tough wrestler at 13 months old! I would have never guessed that I would be pinned daily by a 23 pound nursling. Granted, he uses a unique technique where he presses his open mouth on my face (usually right over my nose) and then drools, causing me to be overcome with the heebie-jeebies and the giggles and the combo effectively renders me helpless. Sometimes he wrestles his daddy and occasionally he plays a little rough with his best friend at his daycare, but so far I am his favorite opponent. And as long as he stays away from moves like the "jawbreaker" and the "hammerlock" and he lets me sneak a few snuggles, neck nuzzles and a smooch or two, then I say, "Bring it on little man!"

Lock up your Apples

2006-08-04T15:07:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago I ran over D's Powerbook. Yes, DROVE OVER IT. His Nano was in the same bag, but somehow went unscathed, so a few days later, I “watered” it with Miracle Gro. Although I’d really like to claim these as intentional acts (and live to write about it), they were freak accidents. But I’m wondering if just maybe something was operating on a subconscious level here.

You see D works at Apple. And lately he’s been working longer hours and traveling more, right as we’re in the middle of this house buying/selling frenzy. In fact, the week we put our place on the market, he was in New York and I had to DO EVERYTHING MYSELF (read my Single Supermom rant).

Sunday he leaves for Tokyo for a week and I’m starting to hyperventilate just thinking about it. I know his job is important and I really need him to bring home the bacon (since we all know I can’t possibly be making enough as a mom and freelance writer to pay a Silicon Valley mortgage, which is now TWO MORTGAGES). But I can’t help but feel abandoned, resentful, overworked, and lonely.

He’s constantly reminding me that his work isn’t a “cake walk,” but the problem is, my working-in-an-office memories are rose colored. I reminisce about lunching with co-workers (and finishing not just my meal, but also a conversation), dressing up, and going to the bathroom by myself, not to mention being appreciated--and rewarded--for my good ideas and hard work.

So, as he asks for my wish list from Japan (yeah THAT MAKES IT ALL BETTER), I’m more grumpy than gleeful. I suggest locking up your Apples everyone, I’m on the loose.

Roots

2006-08-03T10:34:00.000-07:00

My mom and dad have a big garden and recently my mom emailed me this photo of some radishes they grew. Wow, look at those roots! I can't get them out of my mind. Even worse, I've gotten too philosophical about vegetables since seeing this picture.
To explain, you need to know that my parents don't live in the Seattle area. Actually, my husband and I don't have any relatives in Washington state (well, maybe we have a 3rd-cousin-twice-removed somewhere around) or even in any bordering state. Our immediate families live in Montana, California and Texas and we have extended family primarily in New Mexico and Oklahoma.

I love many aspects of our life here in the Pacific Northwest, but I also have a deep urge to grow roots in one place. That feeling grew stronger after Jeep was born. I've been thinking a lot about what it means to have roots and if that experience is even possible. I've lived in three different parts of the US for 6 years or more and I feel connected to each of those places. I miss unique aspects of each of those locations even while I enjoy living here. Did I grow roots in the past and pull them up when I moved? I'm not sure.

Do I need relatives around to have roots? I know the answer is "not necessarily" because I was very connected to my home town and the people there even though I grew up with no extended family around. I have dear friends, good neighbors, supportive colleagues and a network that deepens daily here in Western Washington. I think I should feel rooted here and often I do. But then I see Jeeper with his grandparents or one of his uncles (or any other family member) and I notice something different. I'm not sure how to explain it. The love of the family seems a tiny bit more accepting and I wish he could be around that love more a little more often.

One more veggie tale might help clarify my muddled thoughts. I bought a bag of sweet Maui onions at Costco because I couldn't resist the price. We don't eat onions much – we use only one or two a year so it was dumb to buy four. When I got home and looked at the bag I felt sad that I don’t have family in the area. Because when it is family, you can stop by and drop off a couple of extra onions. And they will like and love you just the same (even appreciate the gesture) and not think you are strange. I want Jeep to have that "extra onion" type of acceptance in his life.

Some days I threaten to pack all we own and move in with my parents or in-laws. Maybe that closeness would give me instant roots, but it would also come with some significant trade-offs. What helps me the most is to be grateful for this moment. We have the love of our family and we connect through email, phone calls and visits as often as we can manage it. We are blessed with great and growing friendships here in town as well as special friends around the world. This place offers satisfying jobs for my husband and me plus spectacular care for our boy. So while I'm still not sure how to grow roots (or what that means or if it is important), today I am thankful for a rich harvest.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: Reflections on my first year of motherhood

2006-08-01T18:16:00.000-07:00

It's Ry's first birthday today. Last night as we spooned, my husband murmurs, "We haven't spend a night without Ryan in a whole year." I ponder on this a moment and said, "I haven't spent a night without him." It's a pretty major milestone--a year--and it's been quite a transformation for all of us. But here are a few thoughts as they pertain to my journey.

The Good
Yesterday Ry laughed all day. It started at Baja Fresh when he kept giving his “starfish wave” to an elderly couple a few tables over. Each time they waived back, he busted up with these big belly laughs, which was so contagious, the whole restaurant was in smiles. Then we went to Longs for batteries (all those frickin’ birthday toys). I hand him my keys to keep him from climbing out of the grocery cart and the checker says, “You got the keys to the Jeep? Vrmmm. Vrmmmm. Vrmmm.” Ry grinned from ear to ear and immediately started doing his own Rmmm. Rmm—for the first time. Then at naptime, there’s loud chortling coming from the baby monitor. I go in his room, and he's standing in the crib, facing the mirror, practicing his “routine.” Now that his audience has arrived, he breaks out into a four-teethed squeal of glee. At bath time, I rub my hands vigorously together to make suds. Who would have thought that that was the funniest thing of all time? It’s hard to be down when you're around someone who thinks you're the funniest person alive. As our nanny said, it’s in these moments that you know what it’s like to be Jerry Seinfeld or a rock star.

So today, I’m thinking about Ry’s very first day and I remember lying in my bed at Good Sam talking to a friend over the phone and saying, “I’m in love.” I’ve never been a love at first sight kind of chick, but August 1, 2005 changed all that. Two months later, I had that feeling rush over me again, when he began cooing to me in his sweet soft voice. Shortly after, my mother got him to laugh for the first time. The feeling came again when he first waived bye-bye to me from the nanny’s arms and then again when he started calling “mum” from his crib. And now it happens almost everyday when his eyes meet mine, we smile, and seem to share in some sort of inside joke.

I had my astrological chart read before I was pregnant (or even seriously thought about getting pregnant) and I was told, “Children in this chart are a love fest.” Which, interestingly enough (I don’t put a lot of stock in this stuff, so it’s interesting to me) that’s pretty much true for Ry. Anyone who meets him falls in love instantly. We had a birthday party for him on Sunday and I’ve been getting several emails ever since from our friends saying he’s one of the happiest kids they know. And whenver I doubt the job I’m doing, my husband reminds me of how much he smiles. Sounds wonderful, huh? Well read on.

The Bad
It’s a given that new parents don’t get much sleep. Everyone talks about it. Everytime someone asked me, “Is he sleeping through the night, yet? I’d say “yes,” just so they’d bugger off. But, going on a year of sleep deprivation, I’m crankier, fatter and I hurt all over (more on that later). I know that if just got more sleep, I’d lose 10 pounds just because I’d be sleeping when otherwise I’m eating. Think about it. If you get up at 5 am, you have to eat two meals before you get to noon. If you got up at 8 am, you’d only need one. And speaking of food, I’ve had constant heartburn for the last two years. First when I was pregnant, but now because I never have time to chew my food. I inhale everything because you never know when or if you’ll get to finish a meal.

The thing no one talks about is what your baby will do to your marriage. Right along with birthing classes, there should be a course on “How not to kill your spouse.” My husband and a colleague (who’s also a new dad) have already started compiling course materiel for “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon 2: How to Survive Your Wife’s Transition to Motherhood.” Seriously, I heard a startling statistic that the divorce rate during an infant's first year is astronomically high. It’s a simple thing, really. You’re both sleep deprived and the kid sucks all your patience, so sadly, you have nothing left for the person in your life who used to be the one that got everything you had to offer. No to mention that you feel asexual, and your self-esteem and body image are in the dumps.

Then there are the well-meaning family and friends who want to micromanage your motherhood. In the early days, I’d wish put the following messagone on the outgoing voicemail: I DON’T CARE HOW YOU OR ANY OTHER MOTHER DID IT. I have five siblings, eighteen nieces and nephews, and a doting mother-in-law of her first grandson, so I get a good dose of unsolicited advice and commentary on my mothering tactics. When Ry was just 8 months, we went to Hawaii with my sister. We didn’t have a meal in which it wasn’t said, “you’re feeding him THAT?” My sister was so intent on letting my baby enjoy the pleasures of food, that it was only two days before I found him eating banana smoothie in the hot tub. But as much as I wanted to keep him on a slow introduction of organic foods, I realized that he is--and will increasingly be--his own person, and as much as I can control what he does now, I’m not going to be the only influence in his life. So let him eat smoothie, just don't ridicule me for feeding him carrots.

The Ugly
A week after Ry was born, I ran out of Vicodin—on a weekend. Can’t remember what the OBGYN’s lame excuse was, but it wasn’t until 6 pm Monday that we got the refill. That was the day I could have easily found myself on the streets trying to score more. I would have done anything to get rid of the pain. There was one moment where both baby and I were screaming our heads off. And if I was paying attention to anyone beside myself, I could have seen the whites of my husband’s knuckles as he tried to hang on to sanity for all of us.

Six weeks later, I had such blood sugar fluxuations that caused fits of rage, often shortly after breastfeeding. I just couldn’t get enough to eat or the right things to eat. And about that time is when the stiffness started. I’ve always had problems with chronic pain, but this was new, different. Now, I wake up in the middle of the night to go to my baby and I can’t walk. Sometimes it’s hard to even hold his bottle for longer than a few minutes. It’s been better with the change in weather for summer, but there was a time last spring, I seriously thought I was going lame.

I’ve had more panic attacks in the last year than I can now count. And there are times when the prevailing thought in my head is running away from my life. A dear friend of mine said once, “After I had a child, my freedom was forever gone.” And this woman is the best and dearest of mothers. But I get it. Even if I did run away, I’d never be free. I’d carry my son around with me the rest of my life, even if we weren’t together.

So…two endocrinologists, a rheumatologist, several massage and acupuncture sessions, several herbs potions, and many therapy sessions later, I’m working toward getting better. And if that’s not possible (as it often is with chronic pain syndromes), maybe I can learn how to cope better. My health is forever compromised due to being pregnant. Hormones aside, my emotions are that much more complex due to being a mom. And, it’s highly unlikely that I’ll ever be as svelte as was at 17 or 25. It sounds trite, how everyone says that “it’s all worth it.” But somehow it is (or maybe I’m trying to convince myself of that or otherwise, I couldn’t go on). All I know is that yesterday I laughed and giggled all day long at even the most mundane of tasks. And the last time that happened, I was a kid. That’s a feeling that, if you could bottle up, would make you the next Donald.

Hi there

2006-07-31T11:00:00.000-07:00

I've been invited to the party! Hi everyone, and fellow blog mama's! I'm officially known here as BeachLivin, and I had come up with some other very cool user names, but they were already taken on Blogger. (Isn't that the way it goes?) I do live at the beach, in Southern California, in a very tourist-y location. Our small family - myself, husband and 3 1/2 yr. old son - have been here all of 6 weeks, and it's quite an adventure. But, the real adventure is motherhood itself and trying to figure out what that looks like for me. My goal in writing here is to share a very heartfelt, yet very real picture of my position as a mom, wife and person. Things are not all rosy in my world, yet there are some amazing moments of grace, love, happiness and craziness that we can all relate to. The not so rosy moments are probably very relate-able for some as well - and I hope that will provide encouragement and hope for those encountering similar challenges. As well, this forum will provide a place for me to further discover and reveal myself as a human with real faults, probing questions, and a desire to lean on God for help in it all. And - I won't feel so crazy in trying to balance life while trying to do a decent job of raising a pre-schooler!

I'm going to dive right in to the deep end of things here if no one minds. I've been married for 11 years, and at least 7 of those have been filled with a lot of strife. He and I both came into the marriage situation with a lot of baggage, and we've tried to make it work, but we simply need to get more help, and better directed help in overcomming stuff from our past and really, just growing up. It's a somewhat startling revelation to get to the 35-ish age and realize that one has not fully matured in some pretty important ways. So, I'm in the process of trying to get some maturity and adult-like skills now, which can be a bit of a struggle. (I would highly reccommend getting those skills earlier in life - trying to undo years of bad habits and immaturity is rough.) The other half of the struggle in this, is realizing I married someone who also didn't recieve some pretty important parenting pieces and who struggles with immaturity too. Throw into the mix trying to raise a child and give him the skills and tools that I'm now trying to incorporate, and it just gets pretty nutty at times. It's such a party here - don't you wanna come?? We have been to the brink of divorce (we both consulted lawyers and had very concrete plans of creating new and separate lives) and we decided to give it one more shot. We're trying and we're struggling - again. One of the reasons I like writing for a blog that has the word 'irreverent' in it is because in going on my growing up journey, I've had to cast off some of the traditional ideas of motherhood and wifehood (a word?) to get a real sense of who I am. I was, at a time, caught up in a church culture that taught that the way to pleasing God as a woman, and being satisfying to your man was to keep a very clean house, cook wonderful meals according to a schedule, and make your highest duty in life satisfying him. Hmmmm . . it didn't work for me, for us and doesn't work now, even though that's the place that my husband is most comfortable with as it relates to the whole husband/wife dynamic. So, I'm re-writing the rules in my family, folks, and trying to get my husband's input along the way, but it's not easy. If anyone can relate to trying to break-out of a performance based mentality, both self and other imposed, you know what I'm talking about. And if you can't relate to this please know how blessed you are!!

Well, I've really gone on here. On a more mundane note, we're in the thick of potty training and I've got a little boy who needs some help and attention. He loves Finding Nemo, sharks and dogs and has just started to enjoy frolicking in the waves at the beach. It's so fun to watch him enjoy life - I think I'll go join him.

Crazy on Wheels

2006-07-30T22:23:00.000-07:00

Here's Ry, post-party. His ATV and Ya-Ya hat (don't ask) topped the gift list. Fun was had by all, except blondie here who not only forgot food and bib for Ry, but didn't even notice that the dainty cake (that wouldn't have fed more than five people) arrived PINK and read, "Happy Birthday Paige." One of my preggo friend's husbands (who I finally just met today) noticed, brought it to my attention, AND took matters into his own hands to track down the right cake. He's going to make a great dad. Thanks everyone for coming, being a part of Ry's life, and pretending not to notice how crazy I really am.

Newbie Blogger Attends Blogging Conference

2006-07-29T22:04:00.000-07:00

I just got back from the Blog Her conference. The biggest thing I learned is that in person impressions can be very different than online impressions. Before today I never really wanted to spend much time on Heather Armstrong's blog despite people telling me that it was one of the best mom blogs out there. But hearing her on a panel, I had a deeper appreciation for her and the writing she's doing. I think I needed that live, personal connection to fully appreciate her authenticity. I've been won over and will be a dedicated fan from now on.

Arianna Huffington was on the closing panel. All of the panelists, including Arianna, were making the obligatory interesting, profound, world-changing comments, yet the thing that stuck with me the most was Arianna's jest that she wanted to create a "sleep movement." She pointed out how we try to do everything, sacrificing our sleep to do so, which leads to moodiness, obesity, and a whole host of other health problems. Amen Arianna. Where do I sign up?

There’s much more to say about the conference, like the very moving Motherhood Manifesto documentary by MomsRising.org I had the privilege to screen, the synchronistic meeting of a woman named Dee, the fun people from Catster, Yahootinis, and the heated debate around "mommy bloggers." But for now I need to get thee to sleep. Tomorrow is Ry’s first b-day bash. Let’s just hope it’s not 100 degrees.

A new 'tude to go with the new "do"

2006-07-27T22:19:00.000-07:00

Ry had his first hair cut this week. It’s almost like he knows he’s cuter. He’s hamming it up more than ever. And while he’s hamming it up, I’m feeling like such a looser that I didn't even bring a camera to document the momentous occasion. I'll have to rely on my mental image of him wearing the cartooned cape, driving the racecar-chair, sucking on a pink hair clip.

Which reminds me.... WHY DO PEOPLE HAND BABIES THINGS AND THEN TELL THEM NOT TO PUT THEM IN THEIR MOUTH? Just as Ry was starting to get ancy, the hairdresser hands him this big hair clip to distract him but when he starts sucking on it, she's like "no, no, no." So aggravating. My motto is if you don't want it in his mouth, don't give it to him. But this is a digression…

So, I'm cameraless at one of Ry's big moments. And this is not the first time. Here's the problem: D has the fancy camera. D has such a fancy camera you need a wagon to pull it around. He's the family documenter. Which means two things: 1) We have way to many photos of me, mostly unflattering, and 2) Whenever I go somewhere without D there's no record of it. These photos were, in fact, taken by D upon his arrival home from work and noticing Ry's hair cut. I guess I'm just going to have to get myself some little super-mini digital that I can throw in my purse so I won't miss anymore big moments. If any of you can recommend such a gadget, please do so. For now, AND FOREVER I'm just going to have to rely on the fond memory and certificate and lock of hair courtesy of Kinder Kuts.

Where HAVE All the Mamas Gone...?

2006-07-27T22:14:00.000-07:00

Hello...?
Blog Mamas...?
Anyone...?

I know BlogMama is in the whirlwind of home selling and buying, but does anyone else have mothering thoughts, stories, rants or raves to share?

It feels a little quiet around here.

Ten First Year Favorites – Baby Stuff

2006-07-21T11:06:00.000-07:00

The Baby Book by Dr. William Sears – this book calmed our fears so many times. It is amazingly detailed so we use it like a reference book rather than a favorite novel.

My Brest Friend – dumbest name in the book, but this nursing pillow offers very good all around support especially in the early days of nursing when perfect positioning made all the difference.

Mountain Buggy Urban Single – so the two handle-bar recalls have been a pain in the bum, but other than that I love the smooth, smooth ride of this versatile stroller.

Swaddle Designs Blanket – the best all around blanket. Soft, lightweight and BIGGER than all the rest so you can easily get any sized baby good and swaddled. Ecological bonus – one version is made from organic cotton.

The Happiest Baby on the Block DVD by Dr. Harvey Karp – my hubby watched this DVD two or three times and quickly became “The Master Swaddler.” He could calm fussy Jeeper in a moment or two using the techniques which were clearly presented and easy to follow. I read the book which was quick and easy too, but especially recommend the video.

Ring Sling – I made fun of these before I took a baby wearing class where I tried a whole slew of baby carriers. I chose a silk sling because the fabric is very lightweight and strong, but also less bulky than most. The ring sling design is versatile and easy to adjust. Ours is from Taylor Made Slings, but there are many similar designers.

Baby Bjorn Baby Sitter Activity Bouncer – I love the simplicity of this baby seat (no batteries required). We didn’t use an infant car seat (we started right off with the convertible type), so it was great to have a comfortable place for Jeep to hang out for a few minutes when we were doing something (like eating) that made it hard to have him in arms or in the sling.

Earth’s Best Organic Lavender 2-in-1 Shampoo & Body Wash by J/A/S/O/N – the name is way too long, but this is great baby soap! It is tear free, concentrated, gentle but very effective and the bottle has an easy open design which is so helpful when you are trying to support a wiggly baby with one hand and get some soap out with the other.

Oball – a toy for everyone! This simple ball is great for babies as young as two or three months all the way up to 100 years+. As Jeep started to crawl he liked to roll the Oball forward slightly and then wiggle toward it. Now he throws it wildly, so I’m grateful it is soft and flexible. The small size is great for travel too!

Seventh Generation Chlorine Free Disposable Diapers – in addition to the absence of harsh chemicals, these diapers just work really well for us. We don't have problems with leaks and I like the simple tan style.

To see more product reviews, check out my post on my top five favorites for Breastfeeding.

Now dining alfresco and will be indefinetly

2006-07-15T21:41:00.000-07:00

Our place went on the market Thursday night (about the same time D arrived back from NY--that guy has timing). I must say, after all the de-cluttering, wine-rack stocking, and strategic placement of greenery, the place really looks fabulous. Which is why Ry is now dining alfresco and will be in indefinitely. I was going to say until our place is sold, but now that I think about it, the time you'd save by not mopping the floor three times a day would really add up over time. Maybe Ry should eat outside every meal for the next five years. I thought I it was ingenious to have lunch at my sister's house the last two days (better to dirty up her kitchen than mine just now), but this outside thing is even better (all the benefit sans the twenty questions).

As many of you know, it's completely nerve wracking to keep the house you live in primed and ready for anyone who might drop by and say, want to buy it. We used to freak out about the state of the house every couple of months or so--about 24 hours before my mother-in-law showed up. And that was BEFORE. (From now on, this means before kids). But now we have to keep this up everyday. We have to live like a couple of OCDs. Not only has Ry been banished from eating in the kitchen, but I roll up the rugs in between showings.

While the housekeeping standards have reached new heights, the mothering standards are on the steady decline. D and I have had a running argument over the “repeat play” feature on Baby Einstein videos. From the beginning, I’ve told him not to use it--a half-hour of baby crack is enough. But with all I've had to do this week (mostly solo) I found myself, not using repeat play, but just starting it again when it was over. What's the difference? Makes me wonder if those authors that write all about the ill effects of TV have ever had kids or have ever tried to do anything else at the same time.

Where Have All the Mamas Gone?

2006-07-13T17:15:00.000-07:00

About six weeks ago Jeep started saying “Mama.” It started as “ma-ma-ma-ma-ma” and then slowly the pauses started to occur in the right places. I called Bea and proudly announced, “Jeeper said his first word and it was ‘Mama.’” “Are you sure he meant you?” she asked. “Of course,” I shot back defensively.

Truthfully I wasn’t exactly sure. He didn’t look lovingly into my eyes or reach longingly toward me when he said it. It really was kind of random. I believed he meant it for me because I (naturally) was around whenever I heard it.

A few days later I dropped Jeep off with Bea and her kids while I ran to the airport to pick up my brother and his family. When she brought him home she said, “Oh, he definitely is saying ‘Mama.’ After you left he cried and clung to me for a while. He would look sadly around and every now and then he would say ‘Mama’ in a forlorn little voice.” While her story broke my heart to know he missed me so much, at the same time I was bursting with pride. My baby knew how to say “Mama!”

Since then he has also learned to say “uh-oh” when he drops things, “bop” when he sees a balloon, and “baa” each night when we start his bath. Oh, and he says “Dada” now too. Actually, almost all he says these days is “Dada.” Our cat is “Dada,” a ball is “Dada,” of course Daddy is “Dada” and (I don’t want to tell you but I must be honest) even I am “Dada.” Sigh. I know I shouldn’t be competitive and truthfully I’m thrilled for Jeep to know what to call his Daddy. But I l-o-n-g to hear “Mama” again.

Until then, I’ll gladly respond to “Dada.”

Single Supermom this week

2006-07-10T20:59:00.000-07:00

D left for New York early this morning. This afternoon, I spent five hours in the car traveling to see a cash-only doctor (well...he wrote this book). In between, we made an offer on that house and decided to put our place on the market. So, while Baby Einstein is lulling my kid slowing into a vegetable, I’m talking to the mortgage broker, the real estate agent, the inspections people, and popping herbal Xanax (courtesy of my acupuncturist) while I stress about what needs to be moved, dusted, or trashed before getting this place on the market. Lucky for D, it’ll all be done when he gets back. How nice.

To get through the week, I’m going to have to rely on the very part-time (yet fabulous) nanny, my robust twenty-something nephews, my new real estate agent, and my good neighbor to help me get through one of the most stressful times of my life. Of course D is only a phone call away, albeit in between business meetings and dinners with old friends. I don’t begrudge him (because he didn’t plan this deliberately, and there’s not much you can do when work sends you on a last-minute trip, and truthfully, he’d probably rather be here manning the show), although it’s hard not to feel just a little abandoned when your dearly beloved is on the opposite coast and these major life changes are happening just as Jr. starts climbing out of the excersaucer. So this week, I think I’ll be getting a small dose of what it might be like to be a single mom. IT WOULD TOTALLY SUCK. But, I’m thankful for my little “village” and next time I meet a single mom, I’ll try to do everything I can to be invited into hers.

Two Headed Beast

2006-07-09T23:30:00.000-07:00

While I totally agree that BlogMama deserves validation for the choices and efforts she has made/is making, I don't think the grass is much greener over here in Working Mom Land. I don't get bonuses or an especially fat paycheck but I do earn enough money to cover exceptional (and exceptionally expensive) childcare plus a few economic ends including my family's health insurance. Although I try to be more efficient than ever, I can't give the time, attention and travel that I used to give to my work and I've seen the compliments & appreciation decrease as a result. Plus I still do the lion’s share of kid-care and household duties at home too. With no more thanks or appreciation than the average Mom – working or not.

What I find the most difficult about being a working mom is my split personality. I feel like almost every minute of everyday I frantically flip my focus from my son to my work and back again. The “to-do” list never ends and I have two of them! It makes me pretty crazy and I’ve spent hours talking to my husband and other mama friends about the perfect solution. I’ve come to the conclusion that there isn’t one perfect reality for all mothers but I hope there is a unique balance for each of us. So far, I’m still on a teeter-totter, but Jeep’s awesome daycare, a couple of hours of paid housecleaning a month, and lowering my standards in almost all areas are a few of the things that keep me from toppling.

I have thought a lot about the “career set-back” that can happen when a mom chooses to walk away from work and stay at home these days. While I'm not satisfied with the current economic & cultural situation and the choice mothers are forced to make, I’ll admit career progress has a small part to play in why I’m still in the workforce (although not nearly as much of a role as the health insurance). Honestly I don’t feel like I’m climbing the corporate ladder right now. If I’m lucky, I’ll hold my spot on this particular rung.

I want the nanny's job

2006-07-08T22:17:00.000-07:00

This probably sounds pretty backward, but I want the nanny's job. Think about it. I could hang out with my son, sing songs, play games, go to the park, fold adorable hot laundry, all while collecting a paycheck. Does this mean I want to give our nanny up? HELL NO! I'd go insane without the 10 hours of relief she provides each week. But the point I'm trying to make is that she gets paid for doing the same job that I don't.

I know I'm supposed to be fulfilled by this noble notion that I've forgone a steady paycheck (and most of my career momentum) to bring up the next generation. It's the choice I've made and I'm happy with it (most of the time). But in today's society, worth is measured by how high you climb on the corporate ladder. I don’t think that it’s the bonuses, raises, or fat pay checks, that keep so many moms in the workforce (although those things certainly make life comfortable), I think it’s really about what those things represent--external validation, which I’m realizing just doesn’t exist if you’re staying home. Which makes me think that even if I got paid 25 percent of what I used to make in the workforce taking care of my own kid, maybe I too would feel like I put in a good day’s work, and someone might say, "good job" or "thank you."

Here's to the sky being blue and the kitchen new

2006-07-07T15:56:00.000-07:00

The fact that it is July has me feeling nostalgic...about my vertebral arteries. It was two years ago this month that one of my vertebral arteries (the ones that run up the back of your neck) tore inside of itself, causing blood clots to form that eventually broke loose and went to my brain, causing me, at the ripe old age of 33, to have a series of strokes. DIDN'T SEE THAT COMIN'! The doctors called it a "spontaneous vertebral artery dissection" because they couldn't attribute it to a cause. VAD is an exceedingly rare thing (think one in a million or in the case of a spontaneous version, millions) to happen to anyone and when it does happen, it's usually due to some traceable neck trauma. And while it is very rare, the top six causes are frighteningly common: 1. Spinal manipulation (aka, having your neck "cracked" by a chiropractor) 2. Yoga 3. Ceiling painting 4. Nose blowing 5. Minor neck trauma 6. Judo. After I read this list, I decided that perhaps what should be included in the medical information on VAD is a sentence that says "If it's gonna happen to you, it's gonna happen to you, but it hardly ever does happen, so just chill and live your life!" Because really, who wants to live in mortal fear of death via nose-blowing?!

So yeah, from July 22nd on, my summer of 2004 was not so fun. After a horrific made-for-tv-like day in the ER, MRI's, fancy-shmancy neurologists referring me to even fancier-shmancier neurologists, nine days in an ICU, a fun little ride in an ambulance, more MRI's, lots and lots and lots of morphine, some soul-searching and revelations about the real possibility of meeting my maker and some sadness about the fact that every day I lay there in the hospital, our house fixer-upper fund was being sucked away (We had closed on a house we were going to remodel the night before I fell over. Literally.) I was finally sent home with a Costco-sized jar of blood thinner meds and an appointment with yet another expert at Cedars-Sinai.

Long story short, I'm fine. No lasting effects from the strokes and, arteries, come to find out, can heal themselves. Mine did. The part of my brain that was affected is the area that controls one's balance, equilibrium and coordination. Thus, the falling over. The experts said that I would only notice a long-term change in myself if I was an Olympic gymnast or a hard-core skydiver. So, no worries on either account. (I'm the girl who, even before all this, has never been able to do a cartwheel...perhaps because I have no desire whatsoever to hurl my person through space at any speed.)

There were lots and lots and lots and lots of hard things about my VAD experience. And some of them lasted a long time. And some of them are, in a way, still things I deal with. BUT, the good news is, I'm here! And as crazy as life, my children, the world, any number of things can make me, I'm so glad that I get to be here to know my kids and help my husband raise them. (Though, we did morbidly joke about the fact that if I'd died, he would've been a perfect candidate for Extreme Home Makeover because the house we had just bought was all that! We found this very funny.)

The upside to my VAD experience and the realization that I might not be a part of my children's lives for the rest of their lives (my sons were ages 3 years and 3 months at the time) was that it has helped me wrap my mind around the fact that, contrary to how it presently seems, I am not in control of their lives. During these years when they are so little and it is up to me to pretty much make life happen for them, it's easy to feel the weight of their existence heavily upon me. And while this is, at least at present, fairly accurate, the truth is that they would not only continue to survive but they have a good chance of thriving even if I am not in the picture. Now, I know that no one can replace a mother, but I also hope that if I die when my children are still children that the experience of losing their mother will not define them in every way, for the entirety of their lives. They are individuals and I believe they are first and foremost children of God. They are His, not mine. I've always sought to believe that and live accordingly, but the tearing of my artery made me really examine that belief in light of the fact that I could easily be gone from them, providing them nothing...not even memories, given their ages. Putting their lives in God's hands, so to speak, took on an entirely new relevance to me as I lay there in the ER, contemplating all this (between episodes of mind-shattering pain.) To be permanently gone from one's children—not knowing what will happen to them, how they will be raised, what they will do, if they will 'be ok'—was the quintessential leap of faith for me. Since then, I've prayed that I can remain, as much as is possible, in the mindset of trusting God for their lives rather than feeling an inappropriate amount of responsibility for them. Of course I still want to be the very best mother I can possibly be and at any given moment I can tell you what my hopes for my boys are (right now I hope that the eldest will stop coming unglued so much and that the younger will get a clue about potty-training!) but I try hard (pray hard) that we will grow them up right, but not overstep any cosmic boundaries as they develop into individuals with unique destinies.

Aside from the mothering revelations my VAD experience provided, I really wish I could say that it had turned me into one of those permanently sweet and smiling souls who goes through life with a constant aura of peace and serenity and a big picture outlook almost always. Well, it didn't. My kids still drive me nuts...I still get cranky when it's too hot in the car and I'm running late and I realize I've forgotten to get that one other thing at Target. I get nervous when my neck hurts. Being one in a million doesn't make me feel like I'm off the hook for freakish incidents. Oddly enough, it makes me feel like I'm all the more likely to be the victim of some random, awful whoknowswhat. I should get over that, I know. But, it HAS made me more grateful, hopefully more balanced (my husband would probably chuckle at that one!) and it definitely made me, in some ways, braver. I'm not going to waste time (or at least much of it) worrying that I'm not an awesome painter. I'm just going to paint because I love it and I think it's what I'm 'supposed' to do (with my 35 seconds of daily free time.) I'm confident that I'll get better and better at it, the more I do it. I try to not worry about what other people think, while still being considerate and sensitive. Such things were my intentions before July of 2004 but now I try even more. I guess that's the crux of it: I'm not a fundamentally different person because of my artery extravaganza experience, but it has made me even more me. (Like a bluer blue, a saltier salty, a more oceany ocean...) That sounds pretty darn cheesy. Oh well. Like I said, I can't worry too much about what others think.

So, happy July everyone and here's to the sky being blue and my kitchen new! (We didn't spend the whole wad on morphine and MRIs! Those are before and after shots form the same spot in our still fixin' it up fixer.)

Why do little people need so MUCH stuff?

2006-07-05T16:02:00.000-07:00

We recently bought a new house (well a 50 year old house, but new to us) and have finally retrieved all the CRAP that was in the old house's garage - you know the stuff that you didn't even remember you had and had already blocked out of your memory.

I'm sorry I should have introduced myself. I'm Sheila and have two kids - a joyful, spunky daughter Kiley (3) and a tae-kwon do fighter, Caden (6). We watch cartoons and our favorite for some random reason these days is "Xiaolin Showdown" - hence my screen name. Please be clear we don't watch it for its vast educational value - but rather the cool karate moves that we can practice on each other. It's nice after a long day at work to watch my three year old attempt a flying kick into the couch:) better than into her brother. I digress.

Regardless, we finally cleared the old house of all the old stuff and have brought it to the new house. As I look at the piles of stuff that have overtaken my backyard. I am seriously floored and disgusted by the amount of BABY stuff that we have. I mean the baby bouncer, the crib that I HAD to have, the extra firm mattress, the baby saucer, the boppy and of course, the jogger I used everyday. This is in addition to the boxes of baby rattles, squeeze toys and old bottles. What to do with this pile of stuff - our ode to babyhood??

We're in that strange place of hmmm... should we have another child and if so, we might need this all. Or maybe we should find a pregnant friend or donate it all to a local charity now and if we have another babe then we go out and beg our friends for their used stuff. Either way, when you see it all it is certainly astounding to think that something that comes out at 8 pounds could need so much. My husband and I joke that the next time around, we'll give her an empty box to play with or will dress in diapers and onsies only for the first 6 months, who cares if its cold - we have a ton of baby blankets anyway.

Moving is good and cathartic and forces the purge of all the old stuff. It also makes you nostalgic and reminds you of when they were tiny and smelled like baby shampoo. It takes you back to the only bib your oldest would wear and the cute pink sweaters that were handknit by their auntie. (Yes, I have a few boxes of things I WILL not part with. You know my grandchildren want to wear their mama's clothes!) As much as I lament about all the crap - I also have shed quite a few tears, thinking about just how darn cute they were/are and how much those little bundles of joy really did bring a whole new perspective to me and the way I see and operate in the world.

XiaolinMama's wisdom for the day: I've noticed that the older they get the smaller their toys are or maybe I'm less permissive about what they can buy. We've instilled the buy one toy - get rid of one rule. (This rule is usually ignored during Xmas and birthdays of course. You can't win 'em all.)

Okay to trespass on Federal Holidays

2006-07-04T23:21:00.000-07:00

Had our fun neighbors and their 15-month old over for BBQ. Then we went wild and crazy and took the kids up the hill to see fireworks—way past bedtime. There’s a ton of construction going on at the top of our hill. Normally we respect the clear message given by a six-foot high fence and we don’t often venture onto construction sites, but for some reason on July 4th it’s different. Why? WELL…EVERYONE IS DOING IT. So, up the hill, behind the fence, across the field, and through the hole in another fence, we found ourselves sitting amongst the weeds (with about 30 other people) overlooking San Jose and much of the South Bay. The effort paid off--I think we saw more than 10 firework shows. It's like the scene in Superman (we saw it at the drive-in Saturday night) when Lois Lane takes her kid onto Lex Luther’s yacht uninvited and he asks, “Mommy, are we trespassing?” She says “no,” and then quickly revises her answers to “yes.” So in a couple years, when Ry asks the same question, what will I say?

The flipside...

2006-07-04T23:04:00.000-07:00

In the spirit of balance and accuracy, here are a few of the manymanymany blessings I've enjoyed since becoming a mother:
Getting to name another human being
Seeing the squished up faces of my children for the very first time
Hearing and seeing my babies belly-laugh
Watching a baby and a toddler eat whipped cream
Celebrating one digit birthdays
Enjoying a sun roof and a good cd along with a baby
Being genuinely excited about Christmas morning
Getting to be The One who can Make Everything Better
Adorable little clothes
Having daily doses of cuteness in my life
Seeing the joy of a five-year-old boy at getting a Lego magazine in the mail
Hearing a two-year-old sing
Sharing the ongoing ocean tide with a fascinated babe
Realizing, again, just how very good ice cream is
Sharing time with someone who is, albeit clueless, but also without a single care
Falling in love in a whole new way

Things of the past (since becoming a mother)

2006-07-04T22:55:00.000-07:00

1. Daily showers
2. Sometimes, semi-daily showers
3. Eating meals at the temperature they were intended to be eaten at
4. Finishing meals
5. Feeling bored
6. Assuming I will be the only one in the bathroom when I'm peeing
7. Saturdays (there's not a lot of differentiation)
8. Being "done" with the laundry
9. Finishing (or starting?) a conversation with my husband
10. A perky chest ("I've fallen, and I can't get up!")

Even Prisoners Have Book Readings

2006-07-03T13:06:00.000-07:00

In April my friend Bea invited me to a book reading with Anne Lamott. She had arranged for a family member to watch her kids and was looking forward to time off, spiritual intellectualism and a few laughs. My only experience with Anne Lamott was a quick skim of “Operating Instructions,” but listening to an author who has wrestled (somewhat irreverently as I recall) with both mothering and faith appealed to me.

I work a demanding job in addition to the demands of motherhood. I feel caught in the stereo-typical “mommy wars” - judged for working by friends, family and strangers who are/were “stay-at-home” mothers and also pressured by society and economics to be a successful professional woman. So when I read about Lamott online, I was drawn to the description of Anne “exhorting readers to go easy on themselves and with each other.” I look forward to hearing “essays that are howlingly funny mini-sermons” and a “quirky, funny perspective [that is] nothing short of a salve for tired souls.”

The day of the event I realize I haven’t confirmed that my husband can pick up our son so when I learn he has to work late, I’m disappointed . I call Bea and tell her I’m tempted to bring Jeep and stay until he cries. She encourages me to try it and agrees to get there early to save us a place.

Jeep (10 months old at the time) is in a good mood and flirts with Bea as the crowd files in. There is no cry room so we sit in the back row near the hallway. Anne reads about Easter and cancer and it is as funny and poignant as I had hoped. Jeep giggles when anyone laughs at Anne’s wisecracks and turns with wide eyes every time the audience applauds. How refreshing to stretch my mind and soul while sitting on the floor with my wiggly, happy son! Although on occasion he spouts baby gibberish, I feel relieved and grateful to have the best of all worlds.

After reading, Anne takes comments and questions from the audience. While she tries to come up with an answer to “How do you connect with Christians in red states?” a gray-haired curmudgeon from two rows ahead turns to glare at me. “Get that kid out of here!” he barks. I’m caught off guard for a moment, then retreat to into the hall with bouncy babe in arms.

From the lobby I listen to a woman describe how "Operating Instructions" helped her get through life after the birth of her son. My eyes fill with tears that don’t stop. I return to the auditorium and whisper good-bye to Bea. She helps shove gear into the diaper bag and whisks me outside where she offers sweet words and hugs.

I cry on the drive home as Jeep chatters about the passing trees, cars and whatever else occupies the mind of a pre-toddler. Some tears are angry tears at my husband for having to work late, some are frustrated tears for the man who couldn’t relax and hear the wisdom of a writer/mother because he was too distracted by a few happy sounds from a baby, others are tears of embarrassment because I should have known not to bring a baby to a book reading.

Then I recall a recent NPR program about authors hosting book readings in a women’s prison. Sound like a good program, but what about moms? Like many parents, I struggle to juggle a life that includes a kid and society’s expectations and norms. The lines are fuzzy and I don’t always know where to comply and where to protest. And while I believe it is perfectly fair to ban babies from symphony concerts, I also believe that grumpy old men should be banned from Anne Lamott book readings.

WANTED: Crystal Ball in Good Condition

2006-07-02T22:06:00.000-07:00

Took D to 1666 yesterday. SEATTLE SUN says to buy letters to spell out the address. Would that be "One Thousand Six Hundred Sixty Six" or "Sixteen Sixty Six?" Regardless, there's a lot of "s"'s in there, actually kind of sexy now that I think about it.

Back to D's reaction to the house: I couldn't even get him to stay inside long enough to check out the third bedroom. But...the next-door neighbor was kind enough to let us look at her newly remodeled house, which has the same footprint. Thank god for our sassy realtor bold enough to ask. Impressed with the work she's done, D's starting to buy into My Grand Vision. One sticky thing is that it's not in a good school district. It's not a deal breaker for me because it's in an area that has historically appreciated well. I think schools will be a bigger deal 4-5 years down the road when Ry's of school age. By then, though, I'm thinking we might be ready to move again and can afford a nicer area anyway. It’s definitely something that should be seriously considered, though. Anyone with experience on this? Advice? Crystal Ball? Divine guidance?

BTW, so glad for JMUM's post. Talked to SEATTLE SUN tonight and she's planning a post I’ve been looking forward to, so stay tuned. Apologies are in order, I didn't mean to upset anyone, but it looks like my "blog bait" worked:)

Whooooa there!

2006-07-01T13:33:00.000-07:00

Don't make me blog bait yet! I've just been busy...and paying the price for a day of extreme Tahoe fun. Yesterday my littles and I drove east to Lake Tahoe to visit a friend who is vacationing there. A fantastic time was had by all. But that was then. And this is now. And today, we have indeed been very far removed from anything remotely "fantastic." Yesterday, I thought I was being a fun-lovin', easy-goin', cool mom by letting them both skip naps and drink cup after cup of Kool-Aid (their first taste of the stuff) as we all frolicked the day away on the shores of stunningly gorgeous Lake Tahoe. Then came this morning. Oh the price we pay in the present for the sins of the past. (But really, who knew that Kool-Aid was such a sin?!) They awoke at 6:50am sharp (they've been sleeping until nearly 8am!) and the whining, crying and fighting commenced. It's been a hellish half a day and now they are both in their beds. The younger one fussed allllll morning (think: that newborn pterodactyl cry that grates your nerves like cheese. At age two, he still has a sound that is akin to that.) He topped off the incessant screeching with a small hissy fit highlighted by a surprisingly long-distanced throw of his sippy cup. The older one sort of held it together until lunchtime, at which point he dissolved into tears over his apple slices, for no apparent reason.

But, It could be worse. A lot worse. And if it was worse, it would actually make for a more intriguing and funny post, but as it is, this is what I have to offer at present so I'm throwin' it into the Blog Mama pool in the hopes that it's better than nothing!

Besides the extreme fun, extreme blue of the lake and the extreme horridness of my children today, the only other notable item on this topic was my five-year-old's comments that "God put all the trees in the right spots" on the way to Tahoe and that Kool-Aid made his "tongue want to dance."

Fish or cut bait

2006-06-30T22:01:00.000-07:00

I know it’s only been four days, but I’m wondering if the other girls are going to sign up for my blog team. It’s time to fish or cut bait, as my father would say. I’m already having buyer’s remorse about the name Blog Mamas. I want something smart/deep/soulful yet hip sounding. First, I need to figure out if I’m going to be doing this venture solo or not.

The group idea was based on a couple of things 1) As a busy mom, it’s hard to find time to post something new (and engaging) everyday. So why not share the load? 2) I think a group format would create diverse perspectives, and 3) it would enable us to build on each other’s thoughts, energy, etc. I dunno…maybe we should just have our own blogs and link up? Thoughts? Anyone?

Would you buy a house numbered 1666?

2006-06-29T14:04:00.000-07:00

So...we're looking at this house, which has a lot of "potential." Maybe we’ll take out a wall in the kitchen and make a Great Room. Maybe even add a "master retreat." Put in a hot tub. Easy to do if you’ve got the cash. Well...what about the address? Can that be changed as well?

I'm not very superstitious and don't belong to a cult in Northern Idaho (I can make fun it since I lived there for 15 years) that believes the mark of the beast lurks in UPC codes or my cat's microchip (which I think is pretty innovative...can we chip my kid too?). But, I did a little surfing. Although I didn’t find much on 1666 (just some births, deaths, and random events with the most notable being the Great Fire of London), I did uncover some known and perhaps unknown tidbits about the infamous number 666.

As mentioned, in Christian eschatology, 666 is widely considered the mark of the beast, AKA Satan, that will terrorize us in the end times. Although a few history/Bible scholars assert that 666 merely refers to the fifth and last Roman Emperor, Nero, who was known for persecuting Christians. Yet, other such scholars believe that 616 is really the mark of the beast. On the other specturm, 666 sounds like the words: “Things going smoothly” in Chinese, so it is considered very lucky. In Judaism, the number 666 is considered mystical, even holy. But more interestingly, $666.66 was the price of Apple's first computer. And, Ronald Wilson Reagan had 666 as a nickname because there were six letters each in each of his names. Notably, he had his address changed form 666 to 668 when he moved to California at the end of his presidency.

So, should I buy this house numbered 1666? Would you buy from me in 5-10 years after I fix it up? Should I buy it and have the address changed to 1667? 1668? D says I’m crazy to consider it…but hey, Ronald Reagan did it. What can’t I?.

I’ve created an 11-month-old yuppie

2006-06-28T09:55:00.000-07:00

Ry's $99 sound machine just broke. It was really a Christmas present for D (MC Hammer's term of endearment for my husband), but soon ended up in baby's room (as new parents, we were desperate for zzzzzzzzs). Ry particularly does well with the "rain" setting. Now, "rainless," and sans the sleep-inducing sound waves, he's not having anything to do with his morning nap. He just threw himself against the sides of the crib—howling—while I scanned the iPod looking for nature sounds…“Downstream Drifters’” seems to be a mediocre substitute.... but he’s finally asleep, albeit with his legs hanging through the crib slats. Sheesh. I’m already making my life easier by appeasing him with the latest technological trappings...what will it be at age 5? or 16?

Blog Mamas going live

2006-06-27T17:28:00.000-07:00

I'm talking with some girlfriends about creating a group blog on motherhood. I've invited them to join as team members, so hopefully they'll start posting too.

There's just to much to say on the topic, and as much as I'm amused by my own kid's poop, vomit, eating-cat-food-stories (he's not always as cute as he is above), what I want to talk about here are the profound changes in our lives as individual women (which for me, range from devastating to exhilarating almost every day) and what's happening colletively with today's moms.