The two-syllable word we all hate to here (when said by a 2-year-old) followed by the most hilarious:

"Moooo - ooomy" She whines, "I want your Boooobie!"

(or maybe that was movie?!?)

Either way--hilarious, no?

Labels: kid wittisms, motherhood, The Peanut

10:58 AM | Permalink | 1 comments

"Yuuuu tire? Yuuuu tire?"

Blank stare into my daughter's very questioning eyes.

"You tire?"

"Am I tired?"

Affirmative shake of the head.

"Yes, I am honey. Are you?"

"Go Nie, nie. Pleeeeze," and she runs to the bedroom.

Who am I to argue?

Labels: life, me, motherhood, parenting, The Peanut

11:20 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

First, if you could care less about breastfeeding--move along to another blog or post. This one's all about boobs, milk, and things I'd rather not share anywhere else but on this blog. I'm not exactly proud, but I'm into sharing the dirt.

If your still reading, then, I need another favor. Imagine a time when I had just returned from 2 nights away from the kidlings and had forgotten my breast pump (about a week ago). You there? Good. Then start reading....

Word of advice--never (EVER) forget a breast pump when you plan to be away from a nursing child even if for one measly night.

I can go into all the physical pain you might endure, or rock-like breasts, or the impending pressure that might cause them to just leak all over your shirt, because it would all be true. All. Of. It. But let me instead tell you how I tried to cure that situation.

Some would have purchased a $40 manual breast pump, but that's the easy way out. I tried to manually express. Yes. I mean milking myself. In a running shower. Like 3 to 4 times a day.

It was down right ridiculous. And silly. And worked only to get out the minimum amount of milk so I wasn't screaming in pain. Not to mention the water-logged feeling of sitting in a shower for 30 minutes or so (again about 4 times a day/night) trying to drum up images of my daughter nursing so my milk would let down. Killer man. Let me tell you, I'll NEVER do that again. Ever. Granted, this daughter of mine better be done with this mess in the next 6 months or so (she'll be over 2 years old by then)--but just sayin'. It was by far the most eye-rollingly tedious process I have ever put myself through.

Your body knows what you're doing. Trust me. The first time, it was relieving pain, so let the milk go. But by day 3 (when I was to be with said child in a few hours)? It wanted nothing with hot water, hands, or "milking." So, I dealt with rock hard boobs, a short car ride, and a blessed child that wanted nothing more from me than to nurse when I walked in the door. THANK GOD.

Part of me wants to go into other details here... about how I actually made all of that work. But really, that might be too much information. Aside from the fact that some things are better left in the shower and I can move on to forgetting about it. I mean, really people. It wasn't pretty.

Though, in a pinch, to have 2 nights away and fun like I was in college? Priceless. So, I guess I'd do it again. Though I might fork over the $40 next time.

Labels: breastfeeding, motherhood, The Peanut

6:05 PM | Permalink | 1 comments

My daughter is finally getting in those two front teeth. About 2 months ago the bottom two broke through and all hell broke loose. I didn't know what was coming. The screaming. Fussiness. And general unhappiness around those gums breaking apart to let bones break through. And then these two decided to make an appearance.

Part of me is happier than a clam--she can venture into larger more dense foods! The other part--the one that likes sleep and quiet--is ready to curl in the fetal position under my bed and stay there for the next 2 weeks until she works through this uncomfort. Today was the tip of an ever enlarging iceberg that I'd give my left arm to break off and let her chew until the teeth decided to grow in. But ice, could lead to choking, and choking to um.. death. And well social services does not to be called. And I don't need and close encounters to the law or death. It might throw me ever-closer to the edge of reason. I'm close enough with all the screaming around here. Not to mention the holidays that are just around a corner I haven't even started preparing for.

Labels: motherhood, parenting, The Peanut

9:00 PM | Permalink | 2 comments

My daughter's got the biggest smile with matching curls. My son has the innocent, wide eyes that tell you what he's feeling in his soul. Almost six years apart, but still alike in ways that are unimaginable and quite conceivable at the same time.

I mean, their love of music and all things animated is definitely something they gathered from their father. The sensitiveness. The joy of just being silly? Also their father.

From me? Maybe their stubbornness. Or, so I am told, my daughter's twinkle in her eye. I can't see as much from me as what they have gotten from their Dad. But, this is a good thing. I worry they might get the worst of me.

Labels: life, me, motherhood

8:59 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

What's worse, being awoken by the sound of a child vomiting

OR

a one-year-old's persistent, "Meow. Meow, meow. Meow!" Over and over and over again.

Labels: motherhood, motherhood bytes

11:22 AM | Permalink | 2 comments

Everyone says my daughter has my eyes. "Smiling Eyes" is what they call them--and they are adorned with a bit of a mischievous twinkle and a shape to them that shows she's nothing but a handful of joy (and emotions that I didn't experience to the fullest with my son).

It's funny. I see the twinkle. And I see the air of mischievousness in them. And man, when she smiles, I see it in her eyes. But do they look like me? These days, my eyes look everything tired. And older than they have in years. It might be the lack of sleep. The stress of work. Or the entanglement of all of the family schedules into one and my frustration (and exhaustion) of trying to pull all of them together into one cohesive unit. Either way--I'm wondering what else I have passed on to my daughter. If I indeed have these eyes, I hope they are one of the good things I've passed along. As I have a whole slew of traits I hope she doesn't catch on.

My self-consciousness could be tossed out the window. I want her to be confident and sure of herself and her skills. There is nothing I could be more proud of--a daughter that knows she's got the right stuff and learns from others (that last part can be hard, but I hope that she is humble too). I also hope she stops and "smells the roses" from time to time. Being an eldest child, I rushed life. I wanted to be 15 when I was 12. And 21 when I was 18. During that whole wish to be older thing, I think I missed some of the better parts of my life. Or at least sped by them as fast as possible so I could move on to what I thought would be a better time for me. It was... but every year we grow older, we lose some of the innocence and naivety of the past. AND that, my friends, sucks. Naivety can be a good thing sometimes. It lets you be free. Enjoy the moment and easily ignore what could be a downfall. The current predicament I find myself in now.

I've gotten more responsibility at work than I ever wanted. Really. I was happy staying at the current ladder rung I was assigned. Working my damnedest and being the best I could be. There. No higher and no lower. That way, I could focus on family (now with one more). And write. And spend time doing things I love. But (there's always one). Life had other plans. Now, I find that I have a To Do List piling up higher than before and less energy to deal with the important things. And here I am, still working through it to do the best that I can do. For work. Another trait that does well for a career--but is it the best for family and home? How about the self?

I'm not knocking the job. I have one. As stable as it can be in these times. Overall, I even enjoy it. But I wonder if I dedicate too much of myself (my true self) to this job. This career. That really, in tough times, could be dropped at any moment (it is business after all). And then what will I have left? No one will remember me as that great employee. They remember good people. People that defied odds. That went after something with the heart and gut. Not a Corporate Ladder Climber that found herself in a great position. Or is this just me?

What I'm getting at (long-winded of course), is that I want my daughter to have a sense of self AND a sense of balance. I don't think I ever have had a clear sense of either. Maybe until now or not ever. I mean, we can "give it all we have" in any profession and even as a mother. But, is that really a sense of self? Not in my book. We need to reach for dreams we've always had. New ones that come to us in our daydreams. And we need to balance it with all the other important things in life--friends, family, self, health. It's a shame I am worried I won't be able to instill this into my daughter. Or that I am worried I will fail at it. But I look at my son now, and at 5 years old, he's got balance down. All you really care about is yourself and your immediate family (which is the important stuff in that part of your life) All those other variables don't exist yet. But I see them. I see school intruding. And his hesitancy in participating because he doesn't know if he can do it well enough. As a mother, my worry is starting. I want him to be HIM.

To laugh, to draw, to reach for the impossible. Just like my daughter. Just like I wanted to do when I was 5. Or 12. Or 18. Or 22. But what happens, is the dream I had when I was 12, gets molded differently because of a comment or judgement from another. And by the time I was 22, the dream changed. Not deep in my heart, but in the logical part of my brain. And I never want to be the one imposing those other variables to my children. Especially to my daughter. Because, let's face it, she'll probably be the most like me. Or face at least similar challenges that I have. She'll be a woman one day too. And that is something, I can't share with my son.

Labels: life, me, motherhood, The Kiddo, The Peanut

10:53 AM | Permalink | 1 comments

"Mom?"

There, in the barely visible crack in our bedroom door is my son. Tears streaming from his face, whispering to me. He'd fallen asleep on the way home from an eye appointment. I did what I've always done--since his birth--carried his 40-some pound 6-year-old frame to our bedroom and shut the door. Now it was 2 hours later, and for some reason, he awoke crying.

"What's wrong Bud?"

"I want... I want," he wiped tears from his eyes, "I just want to go to my room."

"Okay. Go ahead."

He trotted past me head down into the other hallway, to his room.

"Buddy?" He turned, face now red and more tears, "You're not in trouble for anything." He nodded his head. "You okay?"

"Just want to go to my room." And off he went. Alone. To his room. And I felt like a failure at something, I just didn't know what. I mean, what went wrong?

Today was a good day... school was good, he was happy, laughing, even helped out while I got my own eye exam. But crying?

I could only wait 2 minutes and I lifted myself to face my crying son. Which, I might add, breaks my heart every damn time I see it. This time, I peeked through the barely visible crack in his bedroom door and peered in.

"Can I come in?"

One more nod as he cocooned further under his covers and sniffled.

I'd like to share that we had a pleasant conversation and I learned what was bothering him so much. But instead, the only answer that he could verbalize was something about feeling lonely and wanting only to go to his room. So, I did what every mother does... kissed his forehead and gave him an all inclusive hug. The type that make you remember why you wanted to become a mom in the first place. Then, I kissed him again and said, "I love you. Remember, if you ever want to talk, Mom'll be here."

The hardest part? Turning and leaving the room.

He's growing up already and he's not even 6.

Labels: motherhood, parenting, The Kiddo

9:59 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

There's something to be said for child rearing. It's both the best and worst thing that can happen to you as a person. Sure, the bundle of peeing and shitting joy that lands in your arms for the first time (and rips you apart during birth) is one thing. They cry, eat, sleep, snuggle... all by the rules. Unless they are colicky... which means they are crying. And crying. And more crying why you wonder what you did to deserve the hell called your life for the first 3 months. Still, the child sleeps (eventually). And the angelic features woo you into feeling soft, cuddly, and even maternal.

But then they turn 4. Or in my case almost 6. And they throw Starburst candies at you because you ask them why they decided it was time to eat one without asking. And then they slam their door in response to you asking again, why they threw the candy. And then drama called crying at the top of their lungs. And then they give you the look of fear when Dad comes home. Because (gasp), you might tell him of this bad behavior.

Unfortunately, on most nights, I might feel partially responsible for this odd behavior. My fuse is often short after working all day in an office that is far from stress free (my overtime hours are enough to make one want to cry. Only I'd cry for you, I don't get overtime pay. I'm salary). I'm usually quick to raise my voice. Maybe even accuse. Or am just plain grumpy because I just want him to behave. But tonight? I did none of the above.

Calmness was all about me (even with a fussy baby on my hip and dinner on the stove). And I was matter-a-factly asking about the candy. Only I got the response that typically I would give--exaggerated, loud, and a bit snotty. It's nothing short of staring myself in the face on my worst days as a mother. And I am supposed to be setting a good example.

So, I scold him. I talk to him. I reason with him. And I hug him.

Finally after about 30 minutes of time alone (which was not forced. He had 4 minutes in his room before I entered to have "The Talk"), he walked back out meekly. Sat next to me on the couch with arms out for a small but tender hug and a "I'm Sorry." And we were back at square one.

I wish I could say all scolding moments were resolved like this one. But, as any mother would tell you, it's not always common. Sometimes there is more crying. Or just a plain resume of normal--give or take a few timid looks from across the room. Or more yelling (sometimes from both parties). Or the dreaded Talk From Dad. But all in all, it's usually non eventful. For The Kiddo.

For me? It's another story. I'm full of doubt. Some regret for raising my voice. Some for just not knowing what the best course of action is. Or what I should or should not do. Or for just not doing it right (whatever that is). I find myself staring at my son wondering what is going through his head and praying that THIS VERY MOMENT isn't the memory he has from his year of being 5. Who would want to remember their mom frazzled and stressed over something seemingly small (eating a Strawberry Starburst candy)? Or a mom that liked to raise her voice or take conference calls every morning on the way to summer camp? Because, I am afraid, that is the mom he'll remember.

Labels: life, me, motherhood, parenting, The Kiddo

12:39 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

So, yes, we went to the beach this past weekend. And it was glorious. But let me get one thing straight--I considered not going with the rest of the family. And admittedly, it was due to the way I look in a swim suit.

I could go on and on about how I just had a baby 11 months ago, or how work has been pretty stressful and unimaginably busy, or the fact that I have wanted to give up soda for an entire year but just haven't because my will power is akin to that of a child reaching for candy (impossible to break)--but instead it is what it is.

I have cottage cheese thighs that rub together when I wear a skirt. A chest that falls out of any normal low cleavage shirt, and rolls that almost always tend to fall over the waistline of my pants. My swimsuit likely cinches me in ways that aren't right and that don't look so hot. But should I deprive my kids of the fun loving mom that I am? Hell no. The beach, my husband, and my 2 kids were ready to head to the sun and sand... and I decided to high tail it behind them. It is my summer (and their childhood memories) too!

I remember summer camping trips as a kid where my mom layered herself in wraps and swim suit cover ups for the very reason I considered not join in on the summer fun. She avoiding trips into the water to save her hair or make up. She said she enjoyed the feeling of the sun and the good book that was by her side. As the Blanket Watcher--book and soda in hand she watched us all splash up a bunch of fun. Did she just not like water? Maybe. Was swimming not her thing? Not as much as it was to a bunch of kids. But, maybe, like me, not wanting to put her body on display.

She wasn't overweight. She wasn't embarrassing. And by all means, she was my mom. And I would have much rather had her in the water splashing, swimming, giggling, and having good time with us in the sun than sitting on the blanket. No matter what she felt about herself. But, I do recognize her behavior now as something akin to my own. Especially because, for more than a few minutes (almost an hour), I made up excuses in my head for why I wasn't going to be headed to the beach with my son and husband: I had to stay home with the baby! Oh look at me, I can't head to the beach like this! The swimsuitness isn't quite fitting me right still! It's too hot! It's not my thing today! My time of month (never mind I'm still nursing. Which means... oh you get the idea)! I had the excuses lined up by the mile--until....

My son looked up at me and asked when we were leaving. Because, I couldn't move fast enough for this afternoon of fun. And he needed sunscreen. And who was going to put some on his back and the scar near his right eyebrow (Dad apparently, doesn't do it well enough)? Or who's back would he swim on when Dad went for a small swim without him. Or just have a ton of fun with a beach ball he wanted to buy. Or say, teach him how to float on his back without freaking out? Any good mom would do that right?

Or at least a mom that could throw her own low self-image issues aside to have a fun day at the beach with her family? Because, as experience shows, he's not going to remember me as being the overweight one. I'd have been the one in the water having a good time with him.

Labels: life, me, motherhood, weight

11:46 AM | Permalink | 1 comments

Ever try to go to the bathroom with a 10-month-old hanging on your knees? How about laundry? Dishes? Cooking dinner? Working? Seriously, if my daughter could just hang on there and walk with me, I might be a happier person right now.

Instead, my back is aching from the constant picking up and carrying. And of course my head almost aches as much from the crying.

God love her. But, I just need a teeny, tiny break. One that involves less knee biting and a lot less crying.

Labels: life, motherhood, The Peanut

11:14 PM | Permalink | 1 comments

Motherhood brings routine. And routine often gets boring. And by boring I mean mind-numbing routines that make you want to stick a needle in your eye. Add in the chaos of a work schedule that never stays consistent, which blows what little portions of your day were almost not routine, into something called chaos--and guess what? You have a tiny picture of what my life is like. Think I am exaggerating?

Check out today's "routine." And keep in mind, this is repeated at least 4 days a week. And typically the 5 business days and an occasionally Saturday gets thrown in the mess.

6:00amish - kick/nudge/shove my husband to wake up and turn off his alarm. And nurse a baby. Sometimes all at once since, yes, the baby sleeps in our bed. Sue me, I need to sleep sometime.

6:15am - repeat above.

6:30am - repeat, but make sure the husband gets up (well, on days that I am awake enough to do so). He gets up, make sure alarm is off, and attempt to disconnect my kid from my boob. It's likely a summer day camp day and we have to get out of the house (as in myself and both kids in an hour. Husband must leave in a half hour).

7am - if not done nursing and out of bed yet, do it now. Even if I wake the baby and have to forgo a shower (again). 30 minutes and counting before leaving the house.

7:05am - attempt to wake The Kiddo. Easier said than done.

7:10am - find my clothes. Again, easier said than done.

7:15 am - either attempt a shower if the baby is still sleeping, or just get dressed and cake on the deodorant.

7:20am - wake up The Kiddo for real this time. Make sure he's up, hand him the camp T-shirt and have him pick out shorts, underwear, hat... whatever makes him happy and gets him up.

7:25am- dress, make-up, hair (bed head look is still in right); change baby's diaper, dress her, feed the dog, let the dog out, get pump and milk ready for baby, make The Kiddo's lunch...

7:38am - complain we are late and drag the children to the car. With the camp bag, Nintendo DS lite for The Kiddo to play during the drive, my laptop bag, my pump, the milk for The Peanuts Day, the pacifier (for the sitter for the baby), socks for the baby, extra diapers...

7:50amish- arrive at sitter for The Peanut. Hand her off when she is screaming. Apologize for just running off and then jump back into the car and rush off--speeding--towards day camp.

8:10am - swear at traffic. Mumble about construction. Get on expressway and pray the traffic keeps moving.

8:30am - will the clock to stop so we arrive at summer day camp on time. Answer my son's various questions. Hand him the pop tart I miraculously remembered before leaving the house. And join my work conference call (this is sometimes left out, but 50% of the time in the routine).

8:45am - pull into camp. Sigh a breath of relief. Hand my son the sun tan lotion--caution him not to use too much but get it on. Don't want sunburn! Continue to talk/listen to conference call.

8:50am - walk into camp, sign in the kid. Hug. Kiss. Smile. Wave. Smile. Wonder when he got so old. Hopefully hang up on call so can head to the bathroom.

9:15am pull into the office parking lot. Drive around. Wait for space. Park. Walk in. Join new call.

9:30am - 4pm conference calls, emails, working, more calls, even more emails, complaining, some more emails, more calls... oh, whatever. It is work. Somewhere near 2:30pm or so I'll realize I didn't eat lunch or go to the restroom since the morning. I'll attempt to do both. Sometimes successful. Sometimes not.

4:15pm - attempt to leave work. Typically get a call. Another email. Or get asked something in the hall.

4:20pm - Hide in the restroom to pump milk for the baby. Sigh relief... and again when I have enough milk for tomorrow.

4:35pm - make it to my car, open windows, start, find acceptable music, drive to camp to pick up The Kiddo.

4:45pm - Pick up Kiddo. Hug. Kiss. Smile. Check him out. Ask about day. Find out about adventures. Get a water/Gatorade/Soda from vending machine. Share with kid. Smile. Laugh. Get back into the car.

4:55pm - 5:30pm Drive back to hometown. Get to sitter's driveway just before 5:30. Walk in to get The Peanut.

5:35pm - Snuggle with The Peanut. Find out how she did during the day. Hug. Kiss. Grin. Leave the sitters and attempt to buckle her into the car seat with as little screaming as possible.

5:45 - 6pm Drive home.

6:05pm - get kids inside, chit chat, let the dog out, open the refridgerator and take inventory for dinner. Give up and close it. Sit the baby in her high chair and spill dinner onto the tray in front of her Puffs and Cheerios. Ask The Kiddo for his dinner preference.

6:19pm - check if husband is on his train on the way home. Continue cooking The Kiddo's food (likely a combination of 2 or so of the following: hot dogs, chicken nuggets, breaded shrimp, hash browns, sausage, french fries, mac and cheese, chips...). Give the baby some mushy food (latest delight is sweet potatoes and carrots).

7:30ishpm - decide on dinner for The husband and I. Attempt to cook it before the baby wants to nurse. Get a bath ready for The Kiddo (if bath night). Start the bed time routines--change into pajamas, reading, shows for the night.

8pm - dinner of some sort on table for when husband walks in. Nurse baby. Get show on for The Kiddo.

8:15pm - The Husband walks in. Causes ruckus with the kids. Eat our dinner. Send the Kiddo off to watch show, then brush teeth, and bathroom before bed.

8:30pm - put baby to bed. The Husband puts son to bed.

9pm - Still trying to get baby to bed.

9:30pm - get my own pajamas on. Clean kitchen from dinner mess. Feed the dog dinner. Talk with husband. If I am lucky watch some television. Read. Maybe even blog.

Sometime between 10:30 and Midnight0-- write. Or try to. Or want to. And then just decide to go to bed.

12:30am, 2:30am, 4:30am Nurse baby. And then of course start all over again.

Labels: family, life, me, motherhood, parenting

9:10 AM | Permalink | 2 comments

Life changes when you have kids. Time is short. Money shorter. Fuses the shortest. And suddenly you find yourself living in the suburbs with a minivan (or for us a Honda Pilot), Cheerios between the seats, and spit up on your shoulder while your in a business meeting with high-level VPs (true story, very much like my Monday).

It's tough to explain the Parenting Profession to those that aren't. Or those that have all-the-time-live-in-nannies. Because quite frankly, when someone is around to help, they aren't bored at my house. When my son was born, I had some weird neurotic tendency to want to do bath, feed, nurture, read, cuddle, scorn, care-for, tease, laugh at, run around with... and quite frankly do it all for my son. All. Of. It. I had a hard time when a sitter arrived just feeling normal leaving the house. Now with my daughter--um, things are different. I run from the door prancing like and idiot that just got out of jail free card.

It's not because I love her or my now 5-year-old son less. Nope. It's because I know if I don't get this down time, I'll turn into a crazed mother destined for some prescribed time away. And, to clarify, when I go into the office, that is NOT time away. That is crazed Work Time that has it's own set of standards and stresses that I'd rather not discuss.

But all of this--the anxiousness, overwhelming love and longing, stress of parenting is not something you can just describe to a soon-to-be parent. Or even a parent to a 6 week old (they haven't been around long enough). But to a mom of say a 6 month old or so.. over martinis? Sure, start yapping. It'll take you at least until bar close to cover the main points.

Which brings me to this little post topic. Thank God I work with mothers. Hell, fathers are okay too, but at the moment, I could cry because of the moms I work with. Sure some are more experienced. Others are less. But man, oh man, when I had one of those days where biscuits are smeared all over my left shoulder, my hair is matted with spit up, less than 3 hours of sleep, and I had a flat time on the way in--and I STILL come into the office? Those are the women I want covering my ass. These women whom I can always count on to answer a text message, email, phone call gripe that has me close to tears-- hears to making this work. Somehow. Some way. And yeah, feel free to call me next time. I'll sing the sob story too.

Labels: life, me, motherhood, parenting, women, working

10:02 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

And don't try to convince me 32-years-old is not old, because, when I waddled my way into a nameless chain restaurant last week with the kidlings in tow to grab us dinner--I was told otherwise. If I could have counted to looks of horror the crowd of younger patrons bestowed upon us as we tripped and skipped and dragged ourselves from the parking lot to the take out counter, I would be the proverbial rich woman. Or I just managed to secure a few dozen forms of birth control for the crowd.

There were looks of complete horror. Like, "She's not going to eat here with them is she?" All the way to the simple, "Oh. My. God." looks of terror. And this all from me just unbuckling and bringing my kids to a counter and then leaving.

Aside from the looks of the younger crowd, there were my thoughts. Which were just as horrifying. I mean, how can I be positive when I turned into the parking lot, and almost right into some barely 16-year-olds making out on a car hood? In plain daylight? At 5:30pm in the afternoon? I wasn't disgusted. Nor hiding the abomination from the kids. I was more.... um, old. Like my mother speaking my thoughts. I wondered why in the world making out on a car hood in front of the masses could in any way be romantic, or the way one would want to show affection. Completely forgetting what teen lust does to ones sense of romance.

It got worse when the girl (and yes, she was 18 at most) took my money in exchange for my brown bag of dinner. She grinned fake-like at my daughter. Then sneered a little at my son when he wandered a bit too close to those seated only a few feet away. And then held the door open for me as we left. Not saying aloud, "Your kind is like not welcome like here."

Sigh. I even felt old. Not sure if it was the motherhood in me. The baggy shirt and Capri pants. Or the fact that I hadn't showered in 4 days that made that moment stick out like a dirty stick in the mud on my self-confidence. Either way, I don't think I will venture out to the younger side of the tracks any time soon. The food wasn't that good. And definitely not the company either.

Labels: life, me, motherhood

1:20 PM | Permalink | 7 comments

I'm a mom that has always worked once she had children. My son was 6-weeks-old when I went back to work. And I was fortunate, I was a consultant and worked completely from home. That is until 3 months later I had to work on site 10 hours a day all summer long. And then of course, I went back to working from home MOST days of the week, back to a full time in office gig.

With my daughter, I did take the full maternity leave that I could afford--16 weeks. We even pulled my son out of pre-school during that time too. To save money, to save my time from shuffling him to and from school, and--if I am honest--to see if I could do the stay-at-home thing. And you know what? I could.

The reality is, when my son was born, it freaked me out to consider staying home. I'd spent a long time in college, a lot of money on a degree, and a lot of time building a budding career. I couldn't stand to think of leaving that for mommyhood. So, I didn't. I jumped back into work. I stressed, I managed, and I breastfed the kid til he was almost two--all with a headset attached to my ear for numerous conference calls, more than a few overnight stays on client sites, and survived it all.

With my daughter, and my son now older, wiser, and looking a bit too grown up... I had a different perspective. One of a mom considering staying at home. Or wanting to stay at home to enjoy these "fleeting" moments with my kids. And hell, we can't have more if I am working my tail off! But...

So, I am going out on a limb here, I am scared to try it. For a few reasons. Financial is numero uno. How can one afford to live on one salary? Seriously, you give me ways to do this (we already live by a budget), and I might just have to give my notice tomorrow! Secondly, it's my sanity. I know how it is to stay at home with children. I've lived through it twice now. And am still living with an expressive 9-month-old who only likes to be held when I am around and a kindergartener come Fall. There is a helluvalot more running aroudn now! And a lot less of mom to pull into directions.

Enter THE STAY-AT-HOME SURVIVAL GUIDE Field-tested strategies for staying smart, sane, and connected while caring for your kids by Melissa Stanton. I seriously cannot gush enough about this book. It's not a tell-all guide for leaving work and becoming a stay at home mom. Really. We all live different lives, who knows what you need to do to take the leap. But it does share what other moms did. What Melissa, the author herself, did. What you could do. And by all means, what you might do.

But what the book does best is just share with you that--guess what--staying home as a mom is a full time gig. One that isn't always pretty. Sometimes sucks. But in the end, can be survivable and fun. Is this some earth-shattering new news? Hell no! We all love our kids. When they aren't screaming, having tantrums, and are acting like angels for the 2 seconds a day that make them utterly adorable we could just eat them up.

This book gives you the reality, shares other mom realities, and offers that shoulder (of many) that you can turn to, to know what to expect when staying at home, and how to make the best of it. LOVE the extras in and about the chapters (Who Cares for Katie Couric's Kids? cracked me up. The title tells all--celebrities are given gold stars for being moms. But, um, do they do it all on their own?). And as much as the book says it is for stay-at-home moms, there is a ton of info that is JUST as valauble to a working mom. Especially one who works from home part of the time. But even if you don't... who doesn't need a little guidance (or a few girlfriends) to tell you that you aren't alone when you forgot diapers at home, spend more time in your car carting around kids to games and doctor appointments than you have for yourself in the last 10 years, and that your feeling along in this parenting thing. Really alone.

The books weaving of expert advice, or articles on parenting/women/working/SAHM/WAHM/whatever label you want to put here, and personal adcedotes, along with the whole "girlfriend" tone of the book is wonderful. Delightful even. It's not preachy. It just tells facts. Relatable, REAL life experiences... that as I said, make it a worth while read no matter what you circumstance. But even moreso if you want to, have considered, ARE, or once was a stay at home mom doing THAT juggling dance (because, come on, being a SAHM does mean you are multitasking to the 9th degree... laundry, cleaning, feeding, napping, bathing, dressing, hygene, appointments, games, school, crafts, cooking).

Which brings me back to my point... I asked to review this book because I'd love more than anything to land on the other side of the fence. Chuck the paying corporate day job to stay home with my kids. My stress level would be reduced to only times of tantrums and sickness (instead of worrying myself to the point of sickness when I left the baby at the sitter when she wasn't exactly better). I wouldn't have to juggle a crying baby and whining 5 year old while on a conference call and leading a high-profile project (because when you add that to the SAHM list above, it is almost heart-attack stressful). And maybe once a year, just once, I could relax and enjoy being "just a mom." Because quite frankly, there are days it would be nice. This book makes me wonder if I should just take the plunge.


* This post brought to you by the lovely ladies at MotherTalk. Love that I get a chance to read and relate to these authors and their work. It truly is a labor of love.

Labels: books, motherhood, MotherTalk, parenting, reading, reviews

7:47 AM | Permalink | 2 comments

My life is a but consumed right now by a 9-month-old that wants to be held. All. The. Damn. Time. And one that has be shuffling my ass to the day job routinely during the week now. I'm finding it more tiring than I had expected. Which, quite frankly, makes me pissy.

Sure, I thought more in-office days would make me tired. Who wouldn't be? I have to get up an hour earlier to get my face looking somewhat normal and presentable. Then there's my hair. The children fed, clothed, presentable. Not to mention bringing them to school/camps/daycares. Oh and my coffee. And maybe something to eat for me. Hygiene and all that. And the bags.

Diaper bags with pumped milk, diapers, changes of clothes, food. Bags of lunches, camp clothes, swim suits, towels, money, extra socks. And bags with laptops, notebooks, pens, cell phone, more notes from last weeks meetings. And more lunches, and books to share, and presents for the party I missed last week.

All in an extra hour in the morning. Then there are the endless calls to work, for work, to the sitter, from the sitter, a few extra to the day camp about my son's inhaler and a form I forgot. And well... you see where this is going. It is tiring just talking about it. And now, day 3 into this new routine? I'm ready to throw in the towel.

Labels: life, me, motherhood

10:39 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

My 9-month-old daughter is a bit expressive. And by "a bit" I mean, she yells when she wants to be heard. Which is a lot. Case(s) in point(s):

- Just this past week I placed her in these cute little red pants with white polka dots. She loves the pants. Mesmerized by them really. It is the fascinating trick the eyes play with those polka dots. Only issue is that she wants to touch the dots. I guess literally. Patting furiously with her hands on her pant legs isn't enough. Or doesn't have the desired effect she was looking for. And, I hear about it. On many decibels levels.

- Two kids playing together should be a cute picture. Especially when they are cousins (or 2nd cousins once removed, or whatever the technical terms are). And both girly girls. And not fighting. Should be damn cute to watch. And is. Until The Peanut decides that the 2-yr-old cousin's hair looks so darn cool she wants to touch it. Literally. The 2 year old cousin says an adamant "No." Either way, you can see where this leads. More "expressive" yelling that makes me wonder if girls are always emotional from birth.

- Then there is the holding thing. The I-Always-Must-Be-Held-Because-I-Am-Cute thing. Sure, she is damn cute. And smiley. When I am holding her. But a woman's gotta pee. And take showers. And say, WORK every now and again. Quite simply, my arms are tired. The "expressiveness" is wearing off.

- You know it's bad when the pediatrician notices. And he did. Just on Friday during the 9-month-old wellness appointment. If The Peanut did not like being on the table, she told me. Yelled at me actually. Not the whimpering crying, it was an all out yell, "Mo-o-o-ommmma!" Succinct and to the point. Over and over. During the ENTIRE exam. Thank God our pediatrician is a delight. He only smiled and said, "Very expressive for 9 months." When I know he really wanted to say, "When she's two you might want to consider taking some calming drugs to keep yourself sane."

Don't get me wrong. I want my daughter to talk to her heart's delight. To tell the world her tale and not to be taken advantage of--ever. But, I'm a little concerned this "expressiveness" will take a turn toward the bitchiness. Or spoiled I Will Get What I Want No Matter What Syndrome. That honestly, I can't handle. Not in adults, nor in my 9 month old kid. I think I might just cry over this one.

Labels: motherhood, parenting, The Peanut

11:17 PM | Permalink | 1 comments

You'd think losing his first tooth would have sent me into a sputtering mess of "he's growing up so fast, I can't believe it!" Or maybe even the fact that he passed his Kindergarten assessment with flying colors (he got an award for it! One he ran out of the little colorful library to share with me). Or there is the counting to 100 milestone that I've heard non-stop about since he figured out the trick to making it happen. And of course he's got his first crush on one of the two girls in his pre-school class. The girl he draws cards and pictures for every night and secretly puts in her Go-Home folder before all the boys see (but he's not shy enough not to sign his name front and center).

Nope, none of that has phased this working mother of two into realizing her son is growing up into something called a kid. That is, until I had to put him in a REAL timeout the day before yesterday. For doing a Real Kid thing--talking back. In the worst possible way. Here's the scenario... oh wait, picture this after a full day of pain of mastitis and having to save face in front of a relative. One who is sitting on my couch in conversation and then this:

"Mom, I'm bored."

"Well, why don't you draw something. You have all of your pens and papers on the table."

"That's not exercise."

I nod in the direction of the relative and smile weakly, "You could try your play set in the back yard?" The one we paid a fortune for and spent and entire weekend putting together for your playing pleasure--and you've graced its swings/slide/sandbox a whole handful of times.

"No." Direct whine in my face. Then a stomp of the foot. Another yell, "No! That's not good enough!" And crying. Wailing to be exact.

Now, let me tell you--this doesn't seem like a big deal when I type it here. But my son never really acts like this. Ever. And now he is throwing a tantrum at 5 1/2 years old because he's bored and wants exercise? Threw me for at least 30 seconds. And then I gathered my wits.

"Kiddo," I place my hand on his shoulder which he--again out of character--shrugs off, "You need to go to your room for a time out. This reaction is not acceptable."

The fact that I kept my cool was odd for me. I mean, I was in pain. Lots of pain. Had barely slept a wink in over 24 hours (due to that exact same pain). And the fact that The Peanut would just not let me put her down AT ALL? I was stressed to my limit. Tired. I didn't need a child acting out over apparently nothing. Not to mention, I was holding a conversation with a baby on my hip, dinner cooking on a stove, and having what I can now only call idle conversation while waiting for my husband to come home.

Honestly, I wanted to just yell right back at him. Stomp my own feet, and list off my current ailments and issues. I had a lot of them. And in my eyes a bit more disconcerting than being bored and not being able to exercise (I only wish!). But instead, I did the mom thing: took his hand (that he continued to try to pull away from my grasp) and walked him to his room as his wailing kicked up at least volume increased at least 100 times. Once in his room, he did the drama filled--running to his bed, throwing himself atop, and burying his face in a pillow and stuffed Spiderman. And by some miracle, I calmly announced, "I'll be back in 5 minutes. Or when you are ready to talk."

An official time out for acting out and talking back. Wonderful. And in all fairness, The Kiddo is a good kid. This isn't typical behaviour as I know it is in many families. So we are lucky. But it was just so... unexpected. I felt outside myself actually. Which, I guess was what kept me so calm.

So now the complication begins. The who, what, where, and WHY a child acts out... in a world that is a bit bigger than my house, rules, and realm of understanding. This will get so much more fun when he's in high school won't it?

Labels: motherhood, parenting, The Kiddo

4:17 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

When I was a kid it was the same saying--the weather is nice or a holiday, guaranteed a kid will be sick.

I remember countless Christmas mornings with sore throats, noses raw from night time sniffles, and boxes of Kleenex by my side as I opened my gifts. Halloween, it was always a debate whether I could go out and trick or treat because the flu I just got over, was only a few hours ago not days from the last fluid upchuck. And Easter egg hunts were impossible, I was usually coughing, sickly via strep throat or just purely under the weather. With my children, same ole thing. Must be the sixth sense of extra time off with parents.

Seriously, last night my eldest spent the night coughing and sniffling. So much so, I was prepared for another chest infection (gladly after a doctor visit today, it is nothing more than a cold). But, as having multiple children would have it, now the baby is sniffling during nursing sessions and sneezing more than normal for her 9-month-old nose. She's getting the cold. And it's a long weekend of nice(r) weather.

Ah, tis the life of a parent. Of children who like to get sick when mom and dad could finally, maybe, sleep in. Instead, I'll spend at least one 24 hour period with less than 4 hours of sleep. I can almost guarantee it.

Labels: motherhood, parenting

10:19 PM | Permalink | 1 comments

And she had to pry open little hands to grab a little tooth for a few bucks. Let's hope The Kiddo finds this as amusing as his mother.

Labels: motherhood, parenting

11:38 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Just as recently as 8 months ago, I had baby number 2. And yes, just like the first, I worked all the way up to my delivery date. In fact I went into labor WHILE working. Though it was a "work at home" day. Was I crazy? Did I do what I should? Did I over-extend myself? I have personal responses to all of those... sometimes, sure, and I don't think so. But it helps to have a professional opinion to way in on the situation--THE WORKING WOMAN'S PREGNANCY BOOK is just that.

I was especially fond of the parts of the book that talked about working and being pregnant. The looks. The perceptions of being a woman and pregnant in a male-dominated working environment. And the stretching exercises that might have helped my back with this last baby (really, where was this book then?) Really, when you are as huge as a whale and want nothing more than to go home and crawl into a bed (and then inevitably lie awake), you wonder why the hell you work. Sadly, that even continues after the little one is born. The whole grass is greener ideal comes into play--always.

But that's it. The book goes into details for EVERYTHING pregnancy. The embryo sizes, planning for pregnancy, breastfeeding or not, and everything. This is all good for first time moms. I would have loved this before my son was born. This last time around? I could have used the cliff notes of my favorite chapters:

- Pregnancy's Effects on Work, and Work's Effects on Pregnancy (the Efficiency section was gloriously true!)
- You and Your Baby-to-Be (this is where those exercises were illustrated)
- Communication at Work (Changes section... and yes people talk about you when you are pregnant, no matter how family friendly and Maternity Leave. You never feel like you have enough time).
- Getting Bigger, The Last Few Weeks section (I was a whale, I was uncomfortable, I was a bear, I wanted nothing more than to go into labor)

I loved the quotes from real women throughout... sometimes I would have rather read those than the text. But, hey, I've been through the pregnancy thing at work two times now. I just want to know how other's had it.

But it's a great resource. I'd highly recommend it for all those mom's that are starting out. It can be the only book that they buy!

Here's where to get more info:

- Marjorie Greenfield, M.D.-- Author Website
- Publisher Website
- Buy the book from Amazon

Oh and as always, thanks to the gals at MotherTalk for the opportunity to read the book!

Labels: blog tour, books, motherhood, MotherTalk, pregnancy, reading

8:58 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

Let me first admit that I am a coffee addict. It happened somewhere between starting a career and having a baby. Once that first kid arrived, well, I was a full head-on caffeine addict. It should be no surprise that Starbucks has become part of my routine. But not the only choice, I frequent all coffee shops-as my caffeine intake shows no prejudice. Alas, why Starbucks has saved my life.

Pre-child caffeine addiction started when work got tough. Unrealistic deadlines, bosses with no sense, and products that were as boring as watching bread bake--well they pushed me to find a habit. Any habit. And since filling my lungs with nicotine wasn't my first choice, I went to the next easiest drug. Caffeine in the form of coffee. Espresso in fact. With lots (and lots) of chocolate flavors. This need for something to make me feel awake and alive in a world full of corporate drones made me find a flavor that would allow me to stomach the coffee. And thus my affliction for mochas began.

In fact, I could blame the coffee giant for sucking me into its franchise, but hey, it was an easy escape. And one I still use today when the office is getting to crazy and I need a break. A getaway so to speak. There's always a coffee shop around the corner (and in some offices just downstairs). But this little habit of mine, it didn't get outta control til after the birth of The Kiddo.

Have you ever nursed a child every hour and a half? One that nurses for 40 minutes at a time? And remember, this is your first time parenting. That alone can be exhausting, but add in the whole shell-shock of a long and not entirely uncomplicated delivery. The fact that I hadn't been sleeping the weeks BEFORE the child arrive, and a first-mom jitters that keep you anxious and trying to meet unrealistic expectations. It's a wonder I made it past the first sleep-deprived first 2 weeks!

But then it got worse. My husband went back to work. Not only was I in sleep-envy states (why did I EVER think nursing was a good idea?!?! High IQ be damned!), I was also alone. Dealing with a baby. A newborn. A "thing" that squirms and cries, and sleeps on my shoulder, and spits up every second... and only sleeps in the car. And how long can you drive a car around in large circles without bursting into tears? For me, a whole 10 minutes, unless of course, I could have drive-through service. Thus Starbucks and coffee. My serious caffeine addiction began.

But it started a routine. A "Happy Place." A guaranteed adult conversation no matter what type of screaming child day I'd had. Or how frustrated I was that I constantly smelled for rotten breast milk and spit up. That I hadn't showered in four days and was still trying desperately to make it out the door that night to see a friend, ANY friend for an hour (between nursing sessions of course). Or the fact that my breasts hurt SO bad from a kid that was always nursing. That 30 seconds of ordering a drink ("Hi, I'd like an Iced Venti Skim--yes they said that then--No Whip White Mocha please") was sure to imply to the Bartista the desperation I was in. The need to talk to someone, anyone, about my day. Or the weather. Or how I wanted to call my husband for the 30th time that morning just to tell him the baby was smiling. Sorta. When he was shitting in another diaper anyway.

The Bartista would smile, take my money, smile some more, sometimes chit chat, and then wave at the sleeping baby. Always noting, "He always looks so peaceful." Sure. If you don't live with him 24/7. But he does look peaceful--angelic even--when he sleeps. Even now.

But see how this interaction, this nice stuff, could take over my life? Even, maybe, become something to look forward to? I'd sometimes fix my hair, show off a new shirt, new hair color... It sounds desperate. And I won't kid you and say it wasn't. Nothing in parenting ISN'T. Seriously, we bribe our kids to go to the potty, to sleep in big kid beds, and to behave, etc. It's parenting. Part of it is desperate. And making "friends" with my neighborhood coffee shops--part of the game that I did to stay sane. It saved me. Literally from going off some deep end.

Who else is up at 5:30 in the morning and smiling? Most moms I know aren't. And I didn't want that type of company. Blogging is virtual. Phone calls, sorta disturbing when you are trying to hold a screaming kid in one arm and get them to sleep in another--not to mention bouncing, rocking, nursing... oh yeah and talking--not good for the sanity. It makes you feel worse. So, I went with easy conversation with people that were taking $5 a day from my pocket. With one obvious side effect--it kept me poor(er), but I was awake for those really important days in my son's early life--the first smile, first tooth, sitting up, crawling, cooing, Mama! (and Dada!), and all the little things that I remember now watching my daughter and sipping my Iced Venti Nonfat No Whip White Mocha.

Labels: coffee, life, me, motherhood, parenting

7:27 AM | Permalink | 1 comments

One doesn't become a working mother. You're thrown into it. And on most occasions you dream of the greener grass. Days to spend with your child(ren). Endless hours of television. A house that's cleaner than it is now. And dishes that aren't always overflowing onto all the counter tops (or laundry overfilling hampers). But the reality is--working mother or not, all of the above happens. Life happens. Shit happens--and as mothers we find ways to pick up the pieces. Somehow.

And that is where I find myself today. Stuck in a work/life balance that really isn't a balance at all. It's drowned out by work. Work that is increasingly making me sick to my stomach and aching for a life that isn't as complicated or trying on my personal life.

Two years ago I would have made some psychological evaluation (with no education or premise to back me up), that this was cyclical. That after becoming mother, I wanted my "old" life back and pursued work. And once I did, I wanted a calmer existence back and then didn't want to work... and so on and so forth. In reality, I've always worked with both of my children. Never have I not. And usually, for me, I think this a good thing. It allows me to flex a different brain muscle, forces me to have adult conversations (even though they are about ROI, deadlines, and managing expectations), and gives me another "part" of my life that isn't all tied to family.

That is, until I land where I inevitably end up--with a project that sucks the life out of me and in turn hurts my family. I wonder than why the hell I do this to myself.

Obvious answer--money. Two incomes make life a ton easier. Grocery bills aside, we can afford a vacation every now and again. And when my laptop dies (like it did last week), we make accommodations fairly quickly. But what it doesn't do, is make up for the hours (and bills) I spend on day care while I go into the office. Or the hours I don't have with my kids. Or the amount of stress that spills over into coordinating yet another schedule between doctor appointments, picture days, and soccer practices. And that's just the kid stuff. Try eating between back-to-back meetings, a project meltdown, and a VP that decides a project must happen Today.

In the end, it's all fruitless. We work so we can spend time with our family. To vacation. To spend money on whatever it is we like to spend it on. But what the working doesn't give you--are those unlimited hours of fun with the kids. Or the mundane activities like dishes and laundry. Or just be you. In fact, I spend more time trying to relax when I am away from work, than I do enjoying myself.

Maybe it's because I'm a worrier at heart. I worry about my decisions. My Life. My children. My husband. My job. The fact that I haven't had a hair cut in like 12 weeks. All of it. It consumes me most days. At least until I start checking off my list of worries. Check it off, and off it goes to the bottom of the list until the next time around. But I'm digressing (again).

Frankly, I'm stuck. I'm in the middle of madness that has consumed me for the last 2 weeks. And honestly, if I look back at the month before that, I'd been consumed then too. Just not admitting it. And now I am in a precarious situation... how do I dig myself back out. Do I talk to The Boss again? Do I leave? Do I find a place that makes me happier? What really does make me happy?

There is no simple answer. There never is. But this I know. I'll always be a working mother. Just hoping at some point, it might be at home, in my pajamas and staring at a computer screen. Instead of in an office, in ballet flats and some too tight blouse that's trying to pass for sophisticated.

Labels: motherhood, working

8:57 PM | Permalink | 4 comments

My daughter makes this little moaning noise, just as she falls asleep. Every nap. Every bedtime. Every night. This little sigh, to remind me, that yep, I'm gone into dreamland.

I never want to forget that sound. Especially after the 12+ hours of extended work I endured on my Saturday. Work that I might have to repeat tomorrow.

Labels: motherhood, parenting, The Peanut

11:44 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

I wasn’t a pleasant first-year mother. Or a second year mother. True, I loved the smell of a newborn, the cuddling, the ity bity clothes that just make you coo that noise that only an expectant mother can.

But honestly, I hated the constant diapers. The fact that sleeping was really only a figment of one’s imagination. The fussing over the sleeping positions. The company. Phone calls. Thank you notes for gifts. Spit up being an accessory on my left shoulder. And the fact that no matter if I actually MADE it into the shower, the scent of breast milk was my constant perfume.

Truly, I just wanted to find my way into this whole parenting thing. Hold my baby and figure out who he was. And why I had been chosen as his mother. Don’t worry I’m not getting all spiritual on you. I’d just gotten a bit fed up with the whole questioning and cajoling of the new mom.

I mean how many times could I repeat this conversation:

“Oh, isn’t he cute! How’s he sleeping?”

“Well you know… he’s still up every couple of hours.”

“Really?” Eyes wide in apparent shock.

“Yep. I mean he’s only 4 weeks old. I am pretty sure that is normal—“

“I am sure he should be giving you a bit more of a break,” Pat, pat on my arm, “Oh that’s right. You’re nursing. Nursing babies just don’t sleep.”

What? They don’t sleep? I’d rush home, open my Internet browser and search the living daylights out of breastfeeding, sleeping, infants, and any sort of magical cure for sleeping babies I could find. I’d search, take notes, ask The Husband. We’d venture to book stores, doctor’s appointments, grandparent’s houses… and all I could think about was how much was I hurting my baby.

Unfortunately, it didn’t end. There was the nursing frequency conversation. And the putting a hat on his head while running to the grocery store thing. And I really can’t forget the whole co-sleeping arrangements. The working at home or stay at home debacle. Crying it out. Or not. Weaning (or not). Bottles. Pumping. Child care arrangements when I had to travel.

Or just plain old playgroup politics. I’ve yet to meet a group of playgroup mommies that aren’t comparing their children’s milestones like prizes. But, I’ll also be the first to admit, the two I trialed, didn’t match my motherly attitude. Or meet when I could attend. Remember, I was the working mom on the block (well one that worked from home and had conference calls most afternoons).

Don’t forget, through all of this I can barely string a sentence. Let alone stand up for myself against the pack of wolves that were constantly throwing advice around. There was a constant slinging of judgment and comments all thrown at just the right time and landing smack on my face. Just in time to make me feel bad, or worse since I hadn’t slept in days. What changed from the Ooooh, You’re Pregnant Oogling to the Oh My God, You Did What Mentality? I was horrified. And completely lacking any sort of confidence to pull myself through.

Here’s the little secret that took me two-years, a lot of heartache, and one final blow to my ego to figure out—we (as in baby, me, and Husband) were normal. One nasty argument with a family member, saved my inner me and my mom-me in one blessed afternoon.

The once self-professed I Don’t Want To Be a Mom was doing the whole parenting thing right all along. All it took was an accusation of NOT doing it right for me to finally stand up and speak for myself. I am mother, hear me roar!

Well, maybe not exactly like that. But at least I finally faced my motherhood fears and myself. I was doing what was right for my baby, my family, and me. And there is no arguing that. Conveniently enough, in that one afternoon my confidence came back. My inner Mom-Mojo returned. And life suddenly became a bit more enjoyable. Even when I had to change countless diapers, fold laundry, nurse a crying child, and take a conference call all before dinner. And now... I'm doing it again.

Labels: baby, life, motherhood, parenting, slice of life story challenge

7:02 PM | Permalink | 4 comments

Is it bad that my daughter, this very instant, is army crawling at my feet with a rawhide dog bone in her hand. In a moment she'll put it in her mouth for a good ole chew. And, I'm considering not doing a thing about it. I mean, if it's okay for a dog with a mouthful of teeth to gnaw it to oblivion--then a 6 1/2 month old that is only geared to gum it into that soft goo won't hurt her right?

If I wasn't so exhausted, I would've taken it away (the bone) already. Or at the very least scanned the floor for the dog and 6-year-old toys before putting her down. But today--this last month--has been a blur. Work, breastfeeding, nuking chicken nuggets and pizza, conference calls, diaper changes, whining about not being able to play the Wii, single-parenting it while The Husband has other commitments, late nights writing, on-site meetings, taxes of the income and property variety, and waking all hours of the night with The Baby Who Will Not Sleep--I'm a bit on the exhausted side.

I'm anxious and unruly on my best days. Brain spinning with a to do list longer than the hours available but yet unable to focus on one. And I know it's bad when my fitful dreams are of work projects and house chores, instead of pink fairies, unicorns, and the awesome handbags I discovered last week online. I mean, who dreams about work and then admits it? It's the lamest confession I've made to date, but at least it's honest. And shows you how far in the gutter things have gotten. And out of control isn't exaggerating the obvious.

This past weekend I took a shower. Yes, can you believe it? I held the baby at arms length to The Husband and nodded toward The Kiddo, "Taking a much needed shower. Don't wait for me." Meaning: If you come in and bother me while the water is still hot and pounding on my sore arms and back, I might kill you. And get off for reasons of insanity. Don't even try it. The Husband knows the tone, and took the time to lock the bathroom door on his way out so that I would not be disturbed for a glass of red Gatorade. Or the screeching of The Peanut. I needed at the very least a shower of alone time. And I got it. It was long. Hot. Steamy. And full of tears. I'd realized I spent the first 3 minutes listing off the to-do list of my Saturday.

Groceries. Dishes. Laundry. Pick up Dry Cleaning. If the baby took a nap, I wanted to finish the work project. Get to that book I needed to read. Write the review... it went on and on and on. By minute four, the tears stared. What the hell am I doing? To-Do lists on a Saturday? Pre-child these were days of sleeping in til the afternoon, cold pizza, TNT movies, and hell, nothing. Here, I was cramming more than a normal days work of work into a few hours. And that included the day job. The one I am salaried to work in 40 hours.

It was an awful moment. Tears stinging my eyes. Hot water pounding on my shoulders. My arms weary from holding and extra-clingy 6-month-old, and throat scratchy from the cold I wasn't admitting was looming on the side. All because my life is a whirlwind. I wish I could say that the shower enlightened me in some way. But the water turned to the half cold state, and the steam wasn't pouring over the shower stall anymore and I was pruning into something that was beginning to look like my grandmother's hands. Which means, bluntly, I had to get out and face my family. The screeching baby that needed to be nursed, the son waiting for pancakes, and my husband who in a whole hour and a half already had a sore back from bouncing the baby around.

The minute my husband and I consented to have sex without prevention--we agreed to have children. And I love every ounce of them. It's all the other stuff I am having a hard time juggling right now. Who needs to worry about child care coinciding with work schedules, soccer practice, summer camp, and project schedules? And don't forget about paying bills, cleaning the house, taking showers, and eating. Or sleeping. It is all a harried mess.

Pre-child life is long gone, but I dream fondly of those moments of what was then called busy-ness. Hell, if I had one or two after work engagements and a birthday party over the weekend, it felt like craziness. But add in two children--and it's a whole new ball game. One that entails balancing what will drive you crazy first. Right now the choice is: a child that will start screaming if you pick her up or one that will happily chew on a dog bone for a few minutes while you finish the last e-mail of the day. And today, that choice is a damn hard one to make.

Labels: humor, life, me, motherhood, parenting, slice of life story challenge, working

8:32 PM | Permalink | 2 comments

Since the birth of The Peanut, the discussion of having a baby 3 have been the norm in this house. Mostly because her birth was so easy, I almost didn't believe it was over when they showed her to me. And of course her cuteness. Who doesn't love a baby the first 6 weeks? Or 3 months. All the way to the 6 month Separation Anxiety Mom If You Leave The Room I Will Scream Until I Am Blue In The Face time comes.

Which makes me remember why, I think two will be it. If I remain working outside the home anyway. I can't do another day care drama (a few of those this week) or working/life balance routine for a job that keeps me beyond stressed out in work terms. No. Not with another child in tow. Won't happen.

What's probably more amusing to me (and The Husband) is the timing of this Do We Have Another Child discussion. With The Kidd, 20+ hours of labor and 3+ of pushing later, I was traumatized for 3 years. Sure, I said I never wanted an only child, but the thought of another birth like that? Or another high demand nurser? Or my total lack of sleep? Yeah. Saying I was borderline flippant at the idea of another child would be accurate. Until The Kiddo grew into this thing past toddler hood. I think you call it being a Kid. Or something. He's starting to not think I am the center of his universe. And that things I like are not exactly what he likes. And that super heroes are not real. Or aliens. Or... I won't even go there yet. 5-years-old is too young to even think like that (please tell me I am right or I just might go jump off a bridge now).

So, then we thought of baby 2. And of course after a few bumps in the road, had baby 2--The Peanut. Bless her crying/screaming/total drama self. Love her to pieces. Honestly. I can't imagine my life without every tense bone in her body (damn, I was hoping that anxiety would skip a generation, but I swear, that girl needs someone with her, always). But until this week- I considered another. For real. I was trying to figure out how in the hell we could live off one salary and do all that we want to do, so in a year or so, we'd be ready to try for another. Three.

Of course reality set in quickly. Work week from hell (for the second in a row). I realized I missed the Kindergarten registration for The Kiddo. And of course baby care drama (when isn't there). Suddenly it all became crystal clear. I'm thinking two is all I can handle sanely. Or at least to keep my current sanity level at check.

But, let me tell you, the idea of a Family of Five. Or Six. Not so uncommon anymore. Co-workers galore are on Number Four. Four I tell you! Or thinking of three. And I just can't help but think maybe life is a bit more important than my sanity. Or maybe all these people have found a way to deal with day care AND leave work at the office (or during business hours). I'm all ears if anyone wants to share the magic little secret. Because, she's so damn cute and The Kiddo is like a little adult.... and I just can't bear another few weeks like the past two. But expanding the fun called family, I could dig it, if I could find some balance that works. Right now, I'm teetering constantly. And that ain't a way to live, if you ask me.

Labels: children, motherhood, parenting

3:16 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Behind this blog scene, I've been doing a lot of writing. Some publishable, most just to get the thoughts out of my head. Concentration and focus have not been kind to me this week. It might be that my baby won't sleep alone, let alone take a decent nap or the fact that my mind is overwhelmed with work problems. Almost to the point of consumption. Either way, the good part is that I am writing. And I can't sneeze at that.

Though it poses the age old question of timing. There are days I wake up full of gusto to start my day. A to-do list planned, kids behaving, tasks going swimmingly... well, until they plunge off the deep end and something goes awry. Most days lately it is a work crisis that sucks all my time away for the day. Other days it's the baby. The one who wants to nurse constantly. Yeah, her. And suddenly it is midnight, I'm bleary eyed, wondering how the hell the hours passed so quickly, and also curious where that story idea I had at 11:12 am went. Because sure as shit, it's nowhere to be found or recollected when I need it most. So, I sleep. Wake the next day and do it all over again.

Writing and motherhood sometimes are a great mix. I can truthfully say I will never run out of mommy lit material to write about (Thank God that is my genre of choice at the moment). However, it poses a time issue. Especially since I am a working writing (you know, one with a day job). There is never--no matter what I do to try to maximize it--enough time in a day/week/month/year.

I steal moments here and there. Lose so much sleep I don't even want to count. And I even ignore my husband 80% of my evenings. Not that it does any good. My word output at the moment is embarrassing. At least to me. But--I do have virtual files everywhere. And they do count for something (or so my logical brain says).

The bigger conundrum is that even if I wanted to give up this writing thing. It's too late for that. And I don't think I could. If you've seen me after I've "given up" writing for a week. It's not a good sight. I'm breathless. Vague. Glossy eyed. And just plain old bitchy. A bear really. It drains me more than writing into the wee hours of the night. So... I write.

Plain and simple. I must write to live. Is there any other way?

Labels: life, me, motherhood, writing, writing life

9:55 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Remember when I said I Need My Daughter To Want Me? Yeah. So, you should have shot me then. The last two days, she's needed more than life itself, which has caused me to hate my life more than life itself. I mean, seriously, having a child scream her head off when you take a moment to go to the bathroom? Mind you, she is lying on the bath mat IN FRONT OF ME while I am taking a piss...

Now, if that were the only issue, I wouldn't complain. I swear. But it's worse. Much worse. Let me tell you about the current bed time routine (and why I am posting at this God awful hour). She starts rubbing her eyes, screeches louder than normal, and the 5 seconds I can normally put her down so I can say--rub my own eyes-has dissipated into nothing but screaming sessions. All of the above--means bedtime. She gets love from her Big Bro, from The Husband and we are off to bed. Nursing. And Nursing. More nursing. And... wait... she doesn't let go. EVER. Or when she does, it takes a whole 30 seconds for the wailing to start.

God do I hate this "phase." Or whatever it is. My son did the same damn thing. And it sucks. Forget writing late into the night. Working late. Or say dishes. Or even an adult conversation with my husband. Or any conversation. I'm stuck in the bedroom with a child from 8pm until she let's go of my boob. Which tonight was a whole 30 minutes ago. Six hours of non-stop nursing. And let me tell you--this kid doesn't doze off while doing the deed. I've tried every trick in the book and it only leads to more crying and then more nursing.

So here I am. 3am. It's sorta nice. Quiet. But not conducive for the load of laundry I just put in. Or emptying and then re-filling the dishwasher. Sure I did it, but I think I woke The Husband. I can't stop the dishes from banging around. Or the washer from being noisy on spin cycle. But hey, I'm not nursing--and I can't beat that at the moment!

Only in three hours... I just might kill myself. Shower. Conference call. And then, yes, I am heading to the office. Talk about craziness.

Labels: breastfeeding, life, motherhood, slice of life story challenge, The Peanut

3:01 AM | Permalink | 3 comments

My sitter is off to Mexico for a week. As much as this may thrill her, it is the least bit thrilling for me. Now, I'd saddled with dealing with both kids all week. And work. The joy.

This little (sad) bit of parenting no one really prepares you for--the sitters, day care, child sitting, taking time for yourself--sure, it's all good if you have people waiting to pound down your door to watch the new little baby. Don't get me wrong, you might--for the first three months. And then they suddenly disappear.

For us, we never had anyone at the door waiting to watch the baby. In fact, promptly one day after they each were born, I was alone in the house. Well not alone, alone. The Husband was around. But, not some kind family member. Or neighbor. Or anyone really. We were on our own. And are still. Going out isn't one of our regular activities. And let me blunt--when we do it is a huge social event.

I spend hours finding the perfect outfit, get the hair done, try to find time to get my nails done... and yes, all of this, even if it is to just go to a movie. I. Don't. Get. Out. Much. Sure, the sitter is here twice a week. But that is so I can go to the office. And don't for one second think that is "getting out." Because if you try that line on me, I just might snap. Going to an office for work, is far from getting out. It is more like walking IN to something akin to.. um... well I guess I better refrain from that line of thought. You just don't know who's reading these here Internet pages.

Anyway... my point is just this. I need to get out. I mean out-out. As in, away from the kids for socializing. It can or cannot be with The Husband. I don't really care one way or the other. But this non-socializing thing (or heading to family gatherings with the whole damn family)? Well it's gotten stale. And tiring. As much as I love snuggling with my daughter and laughing with my son (did I tell you, I was Awesome Mom yesterday and we build Chinese Lanterns?)...there comes a time and place for Mommy to Get Her Groove On. Or at least feel like a human childless soul for 5 minutes. Apparently that moment has come for me. Or it can't come soon enough.

Labels: babysitter, motherhood, parenting

1:42 AM | Permalink | 2 comments

Some nights I want my daughter to cry out for me, to snuggle, and to nestle in my arms or along my chest for some comfort. Some nights I yearn for her to "need" me. And other nights, I'd give up almost anything for her to not want me. Which has been almost every night this week, but tonight.

The night she is finally getting back to her normal self, cold finally winding down, and feverishness gone... she is asleep. Deep into baby dreamland and seemingly far, far away from me. And at this moment, I'd love for her to cry for me. So I could hold her. Smell her soft skin, and nestle her fine hair against my chin. I need to hold her.

My son now has this nasty cold. The one, I too am battling with tissue and endless amounts of Tylenol in hopes it keeps the fever at bay. But my son has a harder battle--his asthma is wanting to kick in. We've done a few breathing treatments and I'm waiting to hear him cough from his bedroom. The endless tickle that won't go away--and thus has his gasping for breath. I know that by 4am it is likely I'll be up with him for another breathing treatment, of if I am lucky just a puff of his inhaler.

The need to hold him is different now. Not so long ago, I had the same urges with him--the snuggles, the nestling, and of course the hugs only a mom and son can enjoy. But now that he is older they have changed. Sure, this morning, he ever-so gently climbed into bed after his Dad left for work and snuggled with me. The first time in over 6 months. He even dozed back into sleep for a short time. Until the baby started crying. It was nice. But not the same. He's suddenly a boy. A lanky five-year-old boy that doesn't have the fine dewy hair. Or the baby smell. Or the same snuggles he had when he was a wee thing. And, pitifully, I miss the baby version of him. Where did the time go?

We've (as in the husband and I) have been giving The Kiddo major props for "being a big boy." He's slept through the night in his room for a week now. Promises of treats at Build a Bear abound... but yet, never fails at 4am (or thereabouts) I wander down the hall to listen for him in his room. For his even breaths. His tossing and turning. For his sense of being. I do miss him coming to our room. Even for these new snuggles. And even the jabs in the leg or arm that came with his sudden new height. But, I knew--even before The Peanut's arrival--he'd eventually move to his room. And it seems he has. For the most part.

So, now, I have The Peanut. And all her baby goodness. I'm worried that come 4 years from now, I will lose all memory of her middle of the night snuggles too. Of her soft hand on my cheek or arm. Of those nose to arm nestles that she does to wake me to nurse. It's all so precious. And the first time around, I don't think I realized just how precious it was. Now that I know, I'm not sure I want to give it up so easily.

Labels: motherhood, parenting, slice of life story challenge, The Kiddo, The Peanut

10:05 PM | Permalink | 3 comments

Some time between midnight and 2am last night I realized my daughter was sick. Her flushed, warm cheeks were rubbing against my neck, smearing snot all over the neck of the T-shirt I had yet to change out of, and she hadn't slept more than a 40 minute stretch. Even with coaxing, snuggling, and endless nursing. In fact, the nursing situation wasn't exactly textbook. She was slurping, pulling, and having a hard time with the logistics of it all--very a-typical of her behavior since birth. And no wonder, a cold suddenly found itself lodged in her sinuses. So much so, 102 degree temperatures plagued her the entire night. Even with healthy doses of Tylenol and Motrin.

Nothing secures your position as mother until you have a sick kid in the house. All the worry in the world won't help you at 4am when you are rocking the kid for the 8 millionth time and you are craving sleep more than your life itself. But in the same breath, you'd give that same life just for the child TO GET BETTER.

My son has had infant asthma issues since he was The Peanuts age (6 months). So far, she's weathered 2 of these nasty virus colds and came out golden. Not one breathing infection--or ear infection for that matter (knock on wood... we aren't taking chances here). And I am happy for that. But today--I'd be happy for more than 20 minutes of consecutive sleep myself. Of 10 minutes of child free arms and breasts. The Peanut is all about the skin to skin contact right now, and although I can't blame her, I'm worn out.

Only a few short days ago, I was thinking maybe I could do this whole Supermom complex. You know the thought--I can work full time, take care of the kidlings, keep a decent house somewhat clean, and write. And sorta keep it all in balance. But then something like this reminds you of the fragility of that damn balance.

With little more than a few hours sleep, I did something I normally never do--I called in sick. Completely utterly off the work radar. No calls. No e-mails. Don't contact me unless the world is ending sorta day off. It was nice. Well, that is if I could have slept some more. But, I'm not complaining. The Kiddo was at pre-school and I could concentrate on making sure The Peanut was getting better.

Whether this Whole Day Off To Make Kid Better Thing worked or not is another thing. She's still sniffley. Doesn't want to sleep. And warmer than warm. But at least today, I feel like I did what I needed to do for her. And I guess, that is what matters.

Labels: baby, life, me, motherhood, parenting, sickness, The Peanut

7:53 PM | Permalink | 3 comments

Two items today--completely unrelated, though both on the surprise angle.

Number one. The Kiddo. Woke up today excited for pre-school. This is really quite normal. And pleases me to no end. Especially since he is entering Kindergarten in the fall. I can only hope that these feelings continue when he joins the ranks of what most people call "real school." Generally, I didn't have a problem with school. Like it even. At least until middle or high school when cliques and popularity suddenly was more important than the grades. Oh. And that thing called boys. They suddenly were more interesting, even though they weren't really into giving me a second glance. But I am digressing.

The surprise this morning, was after handing him a pile of pants from the dryer to choose as his attire for the day--he put the remaining pants away. Unasked.

Seriously, I walked back into his room to ask him if he'd brushed his teeth and was ready to go (which, he did and was), and it was clean. Pants nowhere in sight. I asked him, ever-so-nicely, "Did you put your pants away?" So innocently he responded, "Yep." And walked towards the door to put on his shoes and jacket. I swear, he's a teenager waiting to happen. At 5.

Now, for surprise 2. I have another home online at POSHmama.com. In fact, I write a weekly book recommendation column. Love the women, love the site owner, and well, have a good time talking fashion, books, gossip, and tech toys for the baby and me. It's about being a haute Mom, what's not to love?

Well, these lovely ladies (yep, you have to be a woman to sign up), honored me with an ity bity award today! Can you believe it? Seriously. I'm a bit verklepped. Or something. People VOTE for these.... and they picked, um me? I was never one for the popular crowd (like I said), so this is more than surprising, it is just flattering. Poshmama's out there... I'll wear the tiara proudly! Really. I twill look FABULOUS on the new still red hair. Oh and if you want to head on over to join us? Feel free, it's a fun little party we have going on.

That's it. I'm done with surprises for today. Not unless another good one drops on my lap. God knows, life wouldn't be fun without those.

Labels: Internet, links, me, motherhood, The Kiddo

12:54 PM | Permalink | 1 comments

I think it was the third time The Kiddo walked into the room and asked for some Goldfish crackers when I snapped. It wasn't enough that I was on a work deadline and was trying to cram that last bit of perfectionism into an e-mail with a crabbing baby on my knee demanding to be bounced. No. I had to have a 5 year old screaming for Goldfish crackers.

My mind was screaming "WHY ON EARTH DO YOU NEED TO KEEP COMING IN HERE TIME AND TIME AGAIN ASKING FOR GOLDFISH CRACKERS!" Definitely not appropriate in any case. But I was having problems channeling my inner (calmer) mom voice. The one who's leg and arm weren't exhausted enough from the last half hour of bouncing. And endless nagging for candy, or chips, or these damn Goldfish crackers. And I did the abominable. The one thing I hated of my own mother... I sighed. It wasn't a normal hidden sigh, it was loud exaggerated. The Queen Grandma-ma of all sighs. I was on the brink of losing it.

And my son--my lovely, honest, son--called me on it.

"Mom," he blinked innocently, "Why are you being so grumpy?" Blink. Blink. "And you're being mean too."

This time I think I blinked back. My son was calling me on my outlandish behaviour. True enough, I'd been weaseled away in my office (well, bedroom) working. Being distracted. And not paying attention to his little, effortless needs. Not that I hadn't been tending to the baby's needs (hell she had to be nursed only a whole 5 minutes earlier).... but him. The first born who'll be in school in September. Yeah. He doesn't need much these days. A hug. Kiss. Small discussions. And apparently Goldfish crackers. And I came this close to snapping at him.

I forced a smile, my inner-mom finally coming forward. "I'll get them here in a second."

"You always say that too."

Can this kid get any smarter? Or can I just shove him off into adulthood now. It might be easier than when he is 16.

"I know Kiddo." My eyes wander to the incomplete e-mail message. Is it critical I get this out in the next 15 minutes? Not really. It isn't like anyone will read it right way.

One more (hidden) deep breath and I walk to the pantry, grab the Goldfish crackers and sit him down for a snack. Just in time for The Peanut to want cereal. That "critical" e-mail? Didn't get sent for at least an hour. And you know what? The world didn't end.

Labels: motherhood, slice of life story challenge, The Kiddo, working

11:14 PM | Permalink | 2 comments

It's been this way for a week now. My conscious is talking one thing, my actions another... and never the two shall meet.

Think I am kidding? Mid-sentence this morning on my weekly conference call I completely forgot my train of though. Poof! Gone. My mind suddenly swirling about the emissions test I must get done on the car TODAY or risk breaking some law and paying some fine. The reason for the call? Forgotten. Tossed aside. Back in the recesses of my brain flirting with the memory of my first kiss. Hell if it matters. Aside from the fact that my co-workers are convinced after I had the baby, I left my brain somewhere at the hospital too.

I'm not the only one in the household that is in this bit of a disconnect. Talking to my husband this morning, he's right there with me. Sure, you could blame a baby in the house. Today, for instance I've been awake since 4:30am since the baby decided she wasn't quite comfortable. Gas lined her intestine. Or hell, she just had 4 shots yesterday. Any of the three options could be the cause, or none of them. Regardless, after attempting more sleep for an hour or so I just gave up. Anyway, yes, it seems the adults in this house are just having a hard time keeping concentration.

Inclined to blame my environment, I've taken to blaming the weather. I lived in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (Da U.P. for you natives) for most of my life-aside the last 11 years. They get a ton more snow there than in Southeast Wisconsin, but this year, I feel like I'm still living in the U.P. And that might be the root cause for some of my tiredness and feeling of just (for lack of a more technical term) Blah. S.A.D.D. might be at work here (and yes, after spending my former college years in the throws of the snow belt, you do get this. Badly), or it just might be my frame of mind. Work is, um... well work. There is some crazy stuff going on there that I'm choosing not to discuss. Then there is the baby (love her to death, but at 6 months, you still get up at night). And then there is my crazy notion of writing novels--which has me up late most nights.

So what does one do to stay, um, connected? In my house, it's likely caffeinate ourselves silly. Which we did with no luck. Then I added in chocolate for good measure. And then I tended to bill paying, finances, and figuring out all that good stuff called measured debt. Fun stuff, ain't it?

Now, it did nothing but bore me to tears. And my mind still drifted to the possibility of adding a tattoo to my right buttock (I already have one on my front side, left hip). So the ability to focus was still not restored. But at least I know I can concentrate on something if I give myself a time limit. As in an hour for work and then an hour for fun. Max. Right now, with no option of taking a quick walk outside to regain a bit of energy, I'll take what I can get. And so, with the end of this blog post, I'm back to work for the remaining 20 minutes. Then, back to fun. Which might mean a good book, but likely means I'll be back to making another highly caffeinated coffee.

Labels: me, motherhood, parenting, working

7:55 AM | Permalink | 1 comments

Being a mom can lead to weakness. No, not in the arms that are constantly lifting, shifting, and pulling children throughout the day. I'm talking about food! When can one find the time to stuff a little something into their mouth?

More specifically how can I find time to eat, when it isn't drive thru service because the kid(s) are sleeping in the car (Because I drove the block a few times to make it so. Gave those tired arms a break. And regained an inch of my sanity). Really, I don't do this that much. Well... not often. Really. It's barely a habit.

Labels: me, motherhood

7:07 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

It's a normal afternoon around here. The phone rings. It's the estate lawyer. A new contact in the family to deal with all our estate matters (as in will, trust, all things we hate to think about. We just had 2 deaths in the family, sue us. We are thinking about all this crap).

So, The Lawyer and I begin discussing our initial consultation. It's all good. That is, until the baby in my lap starts rooting to nurse. Shuffling phone from ear to shoulder, to baby lying across lap and getting ready to nurse--the sick 5-year-old rushes to the bathroom and pukes. Not normal puke. But power pukes. And I hear splattering from my spot on the couch. Apparently so does the lawyer.

But hey, the kid screams, "I'm okay mom!" and the baby finally gets situated and nurses. Sensing his cue, The Lawyer continues on as if it's all normal. And really, I guess it is. For a mom.

Labels: fun, me, motherhood, parenting

12:03 AM | Permalink | 1 comments

I can't help but wonder, am I the cause for The Peanuts *gassy* issues? Or say, the issues she has every morning, when she can't... how can I say this... pass a bowel movement? They (as in medical practitioners) say what a mother eats when she is breastfeeding affects the child. If all the grunting and groaning she does from about 6am - 7:30am every morning (without completely waking up) can be addressed, well I'd damn near kill myself trying to stop it too. Because, man, I could sleep for another hour. Every mother can understand that. Right?

Labels: breastfeeding, motherhood, parenting, The Peanut

9:12 AM | Permalink | 1 comments

It's been a whole 3 full days since I've returned to work--and I'm exhausted. To the point that I could almost fall asleep sitting up. That is, if I wouldn't drop my daughter who is peacefully nursing after a rough night of going to bed. She's in a little routine of waking at night to be held and cuddles. Or at least that is what I think is happening--as 3 out of the 4 times she wakes she doesn't want nourishment. And, oh yeah, she screams her head off when she wakes up. So it's not like I'm able to sleep through any of this.

I chose to work from home with my son when he was this age as well--and its just as hard the second time around. If not harder--I really don't want to miss a thing with the new one. So I am attempting a bit of a lowering expectation exercise with myself. You know, for perfectionists, when you take a step back and realize you can't do it all... and let yourself let something go.

I can say I am doing well so far, but that is only because it has been a few days. I feel myself being pulled back into projects and the office politics. Even without a push. Or the desire to do more. So, right now, I am blaming exhaustion. My brain cells have been battered around with less than ideal sleep conditions, so it's worn down my drive. And that is a good thing. At least I think.

Where this new attitude has hurt me is with my night job--fiction writing. I am typically too worn down from the days rigmarole to even attempt writing any scenes or chapters. Thurs, my laptop sits open on the table waiting for me to start. Or my notepad lies open on the bed with my latest bullet point reminders. Which makes me a bit frustrated with myself.

Some might say getting up an hour or so early in the morning would help. But do you have an infant in the house? Because getting up earlier means possibly 4 or 5am. And then I have to attempt to work a full day after that. While chasing two children around simultaneously. It is a near impossible feat. I'm serious. I've tried it. And well, I'm sitting here bleary eyed and closer to drifting off than I'd care to admit. So, I'd say that is proof enough--serious writing is out of the question right now.

Let's just say, I'm aiming for the weekends. Hoping then the writing will come to me easier, and then at least when my phone rings or e-mail chimes, I'll know it won't be work calling me away from the two loves of my life. The children and the writing.

Labels: motherhood, working, writing, writing life

12:06 AM | Permalink | 4 comments

Have you brought your child to their 5-year wellness check up yet? Let me warn you now. Shots! Lots and lots of shots. Four of them to be exact. And then they draw some blood. Oh and the lovely urine sample. And I am not kidding in the least when I tell you the highlight really was the whole urine sample thing--he wasn't crying.

I thought the newborn immunization shots were horrible to suffer through. And then you had to suffer through the 2-month immunizations (there were four then too). But no one (and I mean no one) prepared me for today.

The Kiddo turned five yesterday. We had tons of fun--pizza, presents, party, and well the Eye-Clops (great fun toy for a 5 year old. Or at least mine who has a mine of fun things waiting to magnify tomorrow). Fun way to start the weekend early and enjoy my last few days of freedom before starting up the full-time day job again next week. But then... yes, we have the 5 year wellness check up.

All was well and good when we arrived. The Peanut had fallen asleep along the way, we were in round 7 of a game of I Spy in the waiting room, and then we were called back to the examination room. Normally, the whole examination thing is painless. The Kiddo entertains the doctor, and the doctor makes The Kiddo laugh while getting his job done. But today, my kid's inquisition took over---he asked about shots. The dreaded shots. And I am not one for lying to my kids, so we told him. He's need four. Four. Shots.

It didn't quite go over well with him either. Immediately--as if his world had ended--he broke into sobs. Sobs that only a mother could bear to look at without cringing. The ugly sobs continued as he tried to negotiate out of them.

"Mom, I'll sleep in my big bed all night long every night...." Sob.

"If we just do one shot, I'll be good forever!" Sob.

"I'll clean my room whenever you ask me too..." More sobs. This time with a little bit more of those hiccup-I-can't-catch-my-breath-I-am-crying-too-much sobs.

And believe you me--all those promises, I'd have taken them over the shots if I could. Only they are required for day care. And kindergarten, which starts next year. We didn't have a choice. So the wailing continued.

I'd like to tell you that he calmed down by the time the nurse re-entered to administer the nasty things, but it only intensified. So much so--well, I don't want to relive the moment. I've never seem my kid this bent out of shape. Nor has my sweater that was completely covered in snot, spit, and tears from the left shoulder all the way down to my waist (because when I stood up to then comfort The Peanut who also became to wail because Big Brother had worried her so much he then leeched onto my waist in even more tears about how awful I was for letting them do that to him). And I did feel awful. We still had to go to the lab.

Revisit the previous paragraph. The wailing and the crying? Yep, again. This time when they had to draw two vials of blood. And I got to hold him on my lap again for this one. Rinse. And Repeat. The Kiddo wailed. The baby cried. I got snot, spit, and tears on my right side this time.

Put the baby back into her carrier, shuffle The Kiddo who was barely walking half speed due to the original 4-shots (2 in each thigh) and holding me stiff armed out of the way (due to the band-aid resting squarely in his elbow joint) to the restroom. Time to explain the technical--he had to pee in a cup.

This might freak out some kids, but mine apparently find it hilarious. Especially when a few months ago, he witnessed me doing this very thing at my last OB appointment. One would never thing that having an audience while you pee--or pee in a cup for that matter--could work to their advantage. But this time it did. The Kiddo cracked up. It was either he couldn't take any more pain, had lost all sense of himself, or because he'd finally give in to being poked so many times, peeing in a cup really was painless. Maybe even fun.

And fun it was. Hand washing, cleaning with toilette wet wipe thingies, peeing, laughing at the pee in the cup. More hand washing. Writing name on sample. Getting jackets on everyone--and off we go. I barely made it out of the doctor's office alive.

That is til I got to the car and climbing in and buckling seat belts caused a bout of pain in legs and in The Kiddo's arm. This time, I lost myself in a few tears too. I mean, I'm programmed to like when my kids are in pain. Especially when I have two of them crying. I have two circular milk leaks on my shirt to prove it. Along with a front side of snot, spit and tears.

Mom badge for today? Earned. Twice.

Labels: health, motherhood, parenting, The Kiddo, The Peanut

12:12 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

Well, Mary Castillo, the Mama Grande, is here to help! She's collected some Holiday Shopping Guides over at her fun blog, My Best Friend's Baby and her author blog. Three of them to be exact, because she's pretty good at "having our backs" since she's a mom like you and me. So be sure to check them out!

You'll find:

• Mary's Favorite Things (writer gifts)
  
• Five Cheap But Great Gifts
• A Super Hero Christmas
• Holiday Gifts for the Expectant and New Mom

Labels: gifts, holiday, motherhood

9:28 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

Check out the post, New Motherhood is a Bitch over at Mary Castillo's My Best Friend's Baby. It's my guest blog post. I'm quite pleased with it myself. Here's a bit of a teaser:

"...during it all, I just really wanted someone to talk to. Someone who was also new to motherhood, who understood, and could tell me that walking into parenting isn't always an easy process. That most days you will be a walking zombie. You'd be judged and guilt ridden. And completely winging it most (and every) days."

See the entire post here.

And Mary--thank you so much for the opportunity!

Labels: blog, guests, motherhood, parenting

10:40 AM | Permalink | 1 comments

Being more than a bit dismayed at how fast 10 weeks and some few days of maternity leave has passed, I've become a bit melancholy. Or if I really think about it, depressed.

In fact, it is quite clear that there are some sour feelings about the change that will occur come the third of December because I am eating us out of house and home. Sure, I'm nursing and that takes up-- what an additional 500 calories a day or so. But when I am eating an additional 3 times that amount in snacks, chocolate, and flavored mochas? Well, you see the problem. At least weight-wise. The real problem though is emotionally.

I'm all for mothers working--however they manage the child care and make it work for themselves. And in fact, my son from the time he was 2 years old until today--I worked in an office full time (and part time) and it was all a-okay. But this time around, with an extended absences from work with my daughter? It's really (really) hard to return.

It might be because I have been able to be home with her for so long, I've actually relaxed (with my son, I'd only taken 6 weeks off and then dove right back into work full time). Or it might be that I have actually "found my mother self." Or all of the 800 reasons between. However, any which way you look at it, the chaos of my life when work gets thrown back in--is not something I am looking forward to.

If all my conference calls could be done via instant messaging and e-mail? Well, I might be happier. Oh, and deadlines would have to be a bit more lax. And those pain in the ass projects (you know the ones you hate but have to do anyway)? Well, I'd just rather not do them.

On so many levels, as much as I need a non-mothering outlet, I'd love to focus on my writing. I mean, sure, I've had all maternity leave to write and NOW I am deciding to get serious I get melancholy about it--but the truth is, my brain couldn't focus on a whole bunch except these short blog pieces and some odds and ends writing until now. I mean, I'm producing milk to sustain a child and waking at all hours of the day and night--who can put together long, strung together thoughts?

Now, I'll have to get back on active duty at Corporate America and it is likely to suck the little ity bit of energy that has stirred in the back of my brain into all that work stuff. The insignificant crap that gets me a decent pay check. My writing will again be put a bit farther down the list of things to get done (don't worry--not too far down the list, just one--or two-rungs lower). And that makes me more than a bit sad. Unless of course I write like a banshee for 15 days and produce half a novel.

To which, I won't even try to set expectations like that. I know better. With the holiday and all... well it is impossible. Right?

Labels: motherhood, working, writing, writing life

1:03 AM | Permalink | 2 comments

When I announced to the world that I was having a girl, I got mixed reactions. The most common was, "One of each! How lucky you are." I agreed of course, but it isn't like we made it happen that way, we really just got lucky. And technically, the sperm is to blame (or congratulate), so the luck was on all my husband's part. But anyway, that is beside the point. It was the second round of comments that took me a bit by surprise.

"She's gonna be moody. Girls are from birth."

"Just wait til she's a teenager."

"Get ready for noise."

"Expect a handful. Girls tend to be more drama queens than the boys."

Yeah. I didn't really know how to react either. I mean, when I was pregnant with my son--did I get these kind of comments? No. In fact, the number one comment I got, was, "Good for you! Someone to carry the family name." [insert eye roll here] But there wasn't a follow-up. At all. So why this time was there a need to warn me? Girls are girls. I am a girl! How could it be that different?

Well it is. But all kids are different, so I am still not feeling a big change between the two children. Except, it one tiny area. Loudness. Here's a typical afternoon in our house.

"Mom, can you come in my room for a minute?" from The Kiddo.

"Just a second hon," me with The Peanut in my arms, "let me put your sister in her swing."

"Okay!" he sprints to his bedroom in preparation.

I plop his sister into the swing, turn it to sway and play the background rain forest sounds (the only one I can stand) and turn to leave the room.

"Aaaaaaaah!" the Peanut demands as I round the corner to the hall.

"Just a minute sweetie," I holler as I take further steps towards The Kiddo's room.

"Aaaaack!" she responds.

"See Mom," The Kiddo points to the robot he's created on his floor with his plastic golf clubs, legos, empty show box, plastic bin bottom, and the gear blocks he's so fond of leaving on the floors everywhere in teh home.

"AAAAAck!" The Peanut demands.

"One more minute," I yell as sweetly as I can towards the living room, "It looks fabulous kiddo. What does this robot do?"

"It's a scratchie remover."

"AAAACK! AAAACK!"

"A scratchie remover?"

"It's the scratchies that live on your lips."

Yeah, I am at as much of a loss as you are.

"Scratchies only live on babies--"

"ACK! ACK! ACK!"

"--so I built it for the baby."

"AAAACK!"

"Okay," concerned about these scrathies I've never heard about before, but more concerned about the intense screaming of the infant in the other room, I exit the room with a forced smile on my face, "you'll have to tell me about these scratchies. I want to know about them." Three steps down the hallway I add, "But it will have to be in the living room. I have to go pay attention to your sister."

So, was everyone right? Well, sorta. The Peanut is definitely more vocal than the Kiddo was at her age. I mean, all day long I get a chorus of Ooohs, Ahhhs, Aaacks, and Goo, Gaas. And by chorus I mean a constant string of those sounds together as if she is having a deep conversation with me (and especially my husband). My son was more--how can I say this--definitive(?). He would say one syllable or sound. And then stop. A few minutes later, do it again. And then he's be quiet for a length of time. So, in that respect--sure they were right.

But as far as being more of a handful--so far, it is very much the same (at this age). The separation aspect is in full force (thus the leaving of the room screaming bit). And so is the I Don't Think I Can Sleep In Here By Myself situation. Which really does make bedtime a bit of a challenge (even though, we were prepared this time, and from birth we put The Peanut down before she was in a deep sleep). But we are managing. Just as we did before. And really, the kids aren't that different YET.

Labels: boys, girls, life, motherhood, parenting, The Kiddo, The Peanut

12:02 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

This weekend marked the first taste of alcohol I've had since becoming pregnant with The Peanut. We had a lovely wedding to attend, and that we did with the children (we were told we were brave on more than one occasion. Not sure if it was because of The Kiddo. He's almost 5 and completely controllable. I am pretty sure they were referring to The Peanut. All 2 months of her cuteness).

It was the typical of typical Chicago area wedding. Beautifully set tables with gorgeous fresh flower centerpieces. Lots of lace, ribbons, white table linens and china. And champagne toasts and wine. Of which I had a sip of champagne as I was rushing out of the room during the best man's toast as to not disturb his moving discourse about growing up with the groom since childhood. Not that I was going to say a peep--but the baby on my shoulder was wearing a grumpy face that was ready to burst into something called a hunger cry.

No, the alcohol came in the form of a glass a wine. With dinner. It should have been a Merlot--as it would have tasted glorious with the seasoned steak that came with dinner. But it was a Zinfandel. That good ole cheap, sweet wine that is completely my favorite. I'd also like to say I had a few glasses and relaxed a bit with the family and visiting. But what really happened was more akin to fielding a child that found the booming music completely overwhelming to and from the women's restroom and lounger. Or off to the sitting area near the entrance.

Sure the husband and I passed her back and forth so I could eat. She even had a few relatives arms hold and rock her for a while--but when the music was turned up a notch, she fell into an almost inconsolable wail. One that I was worn to a bits about after about an hour (one can only rock and pat for so long).

We hugged, kissed, and said our good-byes. As I packed up our things, realized, I'd had only half of the glass of wine. And dinner? Well, about the same.

Labels: baby, life, motherhood, The Peanut

2:11 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Oh I am so (so) behind in keeping up with the 101 things! But don't you worry, it's coming back. And in true Mommy Style (maybe next week... or month as my time is limited dear readers), we'll do the other half of the blog, writers! Anyway, here we go (in no particular order... as ordering 101 things is almost fruitless):

101 Things a Mom Can't Live Without (or a Dad. We like Dads too)

1. Alone time. Seriously. We all need it. And you should really allow yourself at least an hour a week of non-kid time. And that is a bare minimum. Ideal? An hour a day. But in the beginning if you have a routine, family-life, and high-nurser like me, it is almost impossible. An hour a week? Not so much. Enlist husbands, other family members, neighbors, child-care workers. You deserve the time. And the kiddo(s) deserve a bit of a rested mother.
2. The diapers of your choice. Cloth, disposable. Whatever you are into. You just go through so many of them it is almost ridiculous. So stock up. It may seem obvious, but well... I've got 99 more things to go on this list and I'm not leaving out a thing! Not to mention--this is harder than it looks. So give me a freebie (or two, see below).
   
3. And another obvious one--baby wipes. BUT, the added bonus is that baby wipes are wonderful stain removers. Seriously. Try them on a carpet stain. Or on your furniture. They work. And not only that, keep them with you when you go out. They can disinfect dirty hands in no time. The next worm sighting and catch will be squeaky clean in no time.
   
4. TiVo. Or well, any DVR (Digital Video Recorder). Much better than a VCR, and how else can I pause a live television show when I am being constantly interrupted by the kidlings and never miss an episode of my new obsession Reaper?
   
5. A Bouncy Chair. Both my kids loved these. Especially for the first few months. So hunker down and buy one. It might buy you an extra nap during the day. Or one meal with both hands at your disposal.
6. Another Mom Friend. Yep. Try to find some. Either with kids the same age as yours (give or take a month/year) or some with a couple years older. Honestly, comparing notes can sometimes save you life. Just make sure they are really friends. Not trying to judge or one-up you. And the whole play date thing? So last year. Just go for one other mom friend. You'd be surprised what one phone call in the middle of night can do for your sanity.
7. Warm-and-serve food. Good stuff. Especially when you only have one hand/arm to work with (the other is holding a child remember). And hell for me it is two-fold, the other (older) kid likes to eat that stuff too. So stock up. Whether it is TV or frozen dinners of your choice--or last night's left-overs, prepare for warming up food. It saves time and lets you actually eat when the kids are napping. What's I've warmed: pizza (both homemade, frozen, and delivery); lasagna, chili (homemade), pot roast and mashed potatoes, tacos (just make the meat and then save for rewarming), casseroles...
   
8. Side-to-side swings. Like this. Or this. Love this. Didn't have it when The Kiddo was born--but should have invested. The Peanut's favorite place to nap.
   
9. A sense of humor. We have conversations about poop and sleep. Let's hope we at least have humor to bring us through to better times.
10. Mommy Goodie Bags. And I am not talking about for us Moms (but hell, sounds like a good plan to me. I'll have to investigate what I'd want in my mommy bag). Depending on the ages of your kid(s), well you can fill that bag with just about anything. For me right now it's got a funky pen, blank paper, a few markers, a matchbox car, a few super heroes, and an emergency package of fruit snack for my almost 5 year old and diapers, wipes, blanket, burp rag, and of course the pull bug toy for the new baby. For when she starts to want to interact a bit more. This bag? Comes with me everywhere. It can avoid more than tantrums. Be prepared.
11. Caffeine. Pick your poison--soda of various kinds (Pepsi, Coke, Mt. Dew of various flavors, Red Bull, Jolt...), coffee (also of various kinds and flavors), espresso (same deal). They don't warn soon-to-be-parents about the lack of sleep for nothing.
12. Extra large capacity washer and dryer. Unless you pay for laundry service (which hey, if you have that kind of cash lying around, more power to you), do yourself a favor and purchase the largest capacity washer and dryer you can find that will fit in your home. I don't care how ugly they look. You can thank me later. Just after you finished your 4th load of laundry for the morning instead of the 8 loads it would have normally taken.
13. Magic Erasers. This little item is making its second appearance on a 101 list (first time here)--and they really live up to the hype. Seriously.
    
14. Hoodies. I don't care what is said about Hoodies being the "Mommy Uniform." There is a reason for the irresistibly of these little versatile items of clothing. First, temperature control. If you are running from a parking lot to the grocery store, a hoodie is a great jacket no? And then there is the whole, holding an infant who suddenly becomes an instant heater and you are sweating through every pore in your body. Yep. You guessed it. Hoodie comes off or unzipped and life becomes a bit more tolerable. Not to mention their usually pockets. My hoodies anyway have pockets in them. And if you're a mother of younger children this can save you from tantrums and 18 trips upstairs if you use the pockets to your best advantage (read: storage for small always-wanted toys, Kleenex to clear snot noses, and a temporary garbage bin to put the dust-bunny you found behind the console table earlier this morning).
15. A baby carrier or sling. I loved both the Baby Bjorn and my New Native Baby Carrier. Word of caution though, use this right away with your child. If you wait too long they might not get into it as much as you would like. Then you just get a sore arm from carrying them with no assistance.
    
16. Straws. From a 6 month old to an adult, can you imagine any better imagination toy? Seriously, they have a ton of potential to keep anyone busy for hours. Not to mention their ease-of-drinking capabilities. Though in our family, I think the play-action out-weigh their true usage.
17. Television. And really, I'm talking about my tube viewing time here, not the children (though that is a nice side effect if you really need to keep them occupied). As mothers, we need a little escape time and television can really do it for me. How 'bout you?
    
18. A nice shade of red (or pink or berry, or wine, or...) lipstick. Don't tell me you don't go out. This lipstick can be used to go on the weekly trip to Target. Honestly. It doesn't hurt to feel a little good about yourself when you have children hanging of your arms and hips.
    
19. Speaking of feeling nice--don't forget a good-fitting pair of jeans (and nice looking, perfect-for-your-body-pair of jeans). I can't say enough about this item, make sure they fit right and you'll have no problem looking your best--even doing the million and one errands we do a week. Jeans can make (or break) and outfit. Even with a hoodie.
20. Hair cuts (and colors). Honestly, husbands out there, don't make your wife wait for the hair cut she desperately needs. We have an awful habit of putting everyone else ahead of ourselves. Hair cuts included. In fact, right now. I am 2 weeks over due for a cut. The mop on my head would prove it. And since we are on a theme of looking good, I might as well throw this one in.
21. Sleep. I know, I know. We're all tired aren't we. But who says we shouldn't be allowed an extra hour of sleep every now and again. And NOT feel guilty about it. Every mom I know is deprived of this one simple pleasure. Let's start changing that.
22. A laptop. Okay, this might just be me, but let me tell you. Kids are all different. They do crazy things. And Google. Well, it can save my sanity when trying to determine if my kid's rash is just a normal diaper irritation thing. Or a dreadful disease. So for me, the laptop is must (portability). For you, maybe not so much.
    
23. Snap 'n Go Stroller. This is the best invention ever for little, ity-bity, newborns. I didn't have one of these compact strollers when The Kiddo was born. Instead I used the mammoth stroller that came with his Graco car seat. And I was constantly being cut off in the mall. And hated strolling around anywhere. So my advice--don't buy the whole stroller/car-seat systems. Too big and bulky. Go for the carrying type car seat and buy the Snap 'n Go for strolling.
24. The Pediatrician's phone number on speed dial. For me, it is on my home phone AND cell phone. But hey, I just advocate having it somewhere for those middle of the night emergencies.
25. Restaurant carry-out or drive-thrus. Now I know fast food isn't particularly good for you or your kids. But guess what, we aren't "good" parents over here. Or apparently good people that can withstand the power of a fast-food burger. Especially when there is at least one sleeping child in the car (and if both are sleeping AT THE SAME TIME)--we use the saving graces called drive-thrus. Or carry-out. Or delivery. Depending on the location, time, cravings, restaurant availability. And one of our favorite Congratulations You Had a Baby Gifts? A gift certificate to a local restaurant that had curb-side pick up. We ordered via phone, picked up the deliciously find food. And ate it in the parking lot while the kids slept.
    
26. Sex. Okay, okay. I know we women are given crap for not wanting sex while pregnant. And then post-baby we have a hard time getting into it. But hey, we just HAD A BABY. Cut us some slack. It takes some time to feel a bit sexy with our whole torn in two memory and the fact that we spend most of our days smelling like sour milk. Or returning home from work to have a kid on our hip all evening. But bear with us. We need the sex like anyone else. We'll get there. And we really do need it. Honestly.
27. An iPod. How else would I survive long car trips with the kids? It's also on the iHome unit in the bedroom. And well anywhere I want a little music that does not remind me of Dora the Explorer or Jack's Big Music Show. And hell, if it gets real bad you can always find a way to put the kid's music on the thing. You know, in case of an emergency (they won't keep quiet in a long, long car ride and a road side stop isn't for another 50 miles).
28. Another electronic, a cell phone. I live by that thing. Doctor appointments, calling the husband, making sure the kids are okay when I am not home, having a social life. Taking quick pictures or videos of the cutest kid things. Sure, I am a electronics geek. So sue me.
29. Medela Quick Clean Micro-Steam Bags. Might only be useful when the kids are little... but boy are they ever. What a better way to clean and disinfect bottles and pacifiers in 3 minutes?
30. Stain Sticks. Tide makes them (Tide to go). Oxiout is another. And don't forgot Spray 'n Wash. Not that it matters, just buy a brand and keep them with you. It gets out more than spit up (think ketchup, coffee, barbecue sauce...)
    
31. Character band aids. Put all your commercialism aside people and just buy the band aids. Do you know how many ailments can be cured with a band aid? Just about all of them. It never hurts to carry one on you just in case. Right now in my diaper bag-- a box of Scooby Do. And in the purse? Nascar. I'm prepared.
32. Car seat covers/protectors. And I am not talking leopard print here (but those could work). I am thinking more in the lines of seat back protectors like these. Or a car seat undermat. Because let me tell you, there will be more Cheerio stains (yes, grind them up and push them into the seats, you'll see) then you will care to ever admit. Be proactive and it will save your car seats.
33. Snacks, snacks, and more snacks. I don't care what you kids are into, just pack a bit of extra food goodness for them. Please. Even if it bribery food like suckers and M&Ms. It just helps when you are out and about to have something to stop the incessant whining that accompanies a hungry child.
34. Learn how to bribe. You think I am kidding? There is definitely something that can be had for using a bribe every now and again. Example 1: Sleep in your room until it is light out to give mom and dad some much needed (cough, cough) rest--you get a small toy of your choosing tomorrow. Example 2: Be very, very quiet while mom is on her conference call today, you can get a special treat of fruit snacks. Example 3: If there is no whining while we drive to grandmas (long, long drive), well maybe we can stop and get some ice cream on the way. It is a parents way to sanity I tell you.
35. Blocks. Preferably wooden. Doesn't matter what shape or size. But children of any age (well if the blocks are small you gotta have older kidlings) love 'em. Hell, why do you think Legos are so popular? They are a modified block. Right now, I have an old wooden alphabet set from Pottery Barn (meaning they don't offer them anymore). Guess who's playing with them? The almost 5 year old. And as soon as the new baby is old enough, she'll grab a couple and start teething on them. Everyone's happy. And occupied.
36. The art of patience. Learn it. Live it.
    
37. A lovely, perfect purse/diaper bag/mommy bag. Seriously, treat yourself to a nice looking one that fits your needs. I am NOT a backpack girl myself. And in fact, find that if I do bring a backpack (like say when we go to an amusement part), i feel like a schlep. It just ain't my thing. So, if you are like me, go get a snazzy bag that matches your personality. It makes lugging it around a bit more fun. Not to mention stylish.
    
38. Books. As in children's books. Sure I am a writer and I would love nothing more than raising literacy in our country--but there is an added benefit to getting your children addicted to books of all kinds (including comics!). They can occupy themselves. I kid you not, I can bring type of book along with me, even magazines and junk mailers and my son wants to look at them. Talk about them. And even "reads" a story. So give it a shot. Even if you just give the junk mail advertisers over to the kids and they don't "read" it--at least they have something to tear apart that isn't valuable (and they are occupied) right?
39. A babysitter that you can trust. Really, we all need time away. Whether this is grandma, grandpa, aunt, uncle, or the girl/boy across the street. Just find one.
40. A burp rag. When the kids are young, spit up becomes something like a best friend, always there for you (on your shoulder).
    
41. Chicken nuggets. They've got 'em in all shapes and sizes. Organic and white meat only. And your kids will love them. Seriously. Not only can you microwave them i n 2 minutes (and under), well if you do the conventional oven way, it takes about 7 minutes. And for a screaming hungry kid (or a meal you have yet to eat), it'll work. Just make sure to warm up some veggies too. you know, like I do. French Fries count for that right?
42. Directions to the closest emergency room. You think I am being overly dramatic or cautious don't you? Well, you just NEVER know. And I'd rather be prepared, wouldn't you?
43. Extra napkins. And if you keep them in your car, purse, or diaper bag they will always be with you. Hell, you might spill your coffee (happened to me this morning), or the kid might drip ketchup on his pant leg (last week offender), or your burp rag might be otherwise pre-occupied. One can never have enough wiping materials. You'll wipe more than snot noses with those extras. Trust me.
    
44. Color Wonder notepads and pens. They are all they were advertised as and more. Who can ask for better entertainment-- markers and notebooks that can't stain a thing. They work particularly well for traveling in a car or airplane. Just make sure to buy a few extra activity books. They kids fly through them.
45. Speaking of fun activities--chalk. This little funness travels from a year old to about 8. Just this past weekend we had an 18 month old, a 4 year old and an 8 year old chalking up the sidewalk while we played a game of Bocce ball. So, stock up. They even work on portable chalk boards you can use indoors.
46. A camera. Preferably a digital one since kids are so fidgety it is hard to get a good shot of them. With digital you can take as many pictures as you want... and then get the perfect smile/grin/look/pose. And yeah, they grow up so fast you forget what they look like and all that.
47. A few good quality long sleeve T-shirts and a few wraps. That's right. That whole thing about looking good, pair that with the well fitting jeans and you will be one hot mamma (think: nice quality and good fitting black long sleeve shirt with a black wrap. Hides any baby bumps, spit up, and if you are nursing like me the wrap is a wonderful little nursing/flash protector. Add a heeled boot. And well, I am ready for a night out.
48. Wine. Every good mother deserves a glass of wine every now and again. Or a martini. And hell, if you can snag a sitter make it a whole night out. And a lot more wine.
49. Onesies. Until your kid is like 2 years old, buy as many of these as you can (there are a ton of colors, patterns, styles). At least while they are still in diapers and being carried around 80% of the time. I just haven't had luck with the cute little none bottom between the leg shirts. I put them on, pick up the kid, and what do you know? Their back is fully exposed. And cold. And then the diaper starts to fall off their ass. And they don't have a plumbers tool belt dragging it down.
    
50. Comfort food. Moderation is key here, but please, stop the dieting and treat yourself. We do hard work raising children (and wiping asses) all day long. So if your thing is chocolate, buy the best kind you can and treat yourself every now and again. Cupcakes? Pie? Bon Bons? Well yeah, buy a package of the best kind you can find--and eat one after dinner. Seriously people. We should be allowed to have a treat once a month. Right? Call it a reward for dealing with the little people.
    
51. A dishwasher. People say that laundry increases--they forget about the dishes.
    
52. Pacifiers. Honestly. My son wouldn't even touch them. Constantly spit them out and flat out didn't see the need for them (he preferred the boob). So I tossed them all. But with the new kid. Well, let's just say, they can be life-savers. Literally.
    
53. Electrical outlet covers. Now, all of the safety items that are available for children are likely worth their money. But in our house, my almost 5 year old is still fascinated with outlets. And tends to want to pull out the covers to want to shove something in them--but at least now I slow him down. And then can give him the run-down on how unsafe it is. But hey, I still think they are a must have. It is an easy preventative measure, don't you think?
54. Juice boxes. Love them! And these days, they can even fit in the car seat cup holders. What can be better than that on a long car drive?
55. Eye cream and under-eye make-up. The lack of sleep doesn't make you look all that, um, rested, now does it? Use a good eye cream for the wrinkles and grab some of that under-eye concealer stuff to throw on before your foundation. Will definitely freshen you up a bit.
56. A box full of dress up clothes. No matter what the age, we all love dressing up like it's Halloween. So keep old clothes. Buy the left-over Halloween costumes for 75% off. Shove them in a box and keep 'em around. It kept my son busy for at least an hour today. Think about it, that could be an another hour for you.
57. An extra outfit. That includes, shirt, pants, underwear, socks. For an infant, at least a jumper and a onesie. Toss it in the back of the car if you have to. Because accidents happens. And so do spills. And that water fountain that just had to be jumped into.
58. A rocking chair. Again, I learned the first time around with my son. We didn't have a true baby rocker (glider). We used an old antique wooden missionary style rocker. Yeah. I know. It creaked, and did nothing for my comfort of rocking the baby. This time around, we purchased a somewhat cheap glider rocker with matching stool. As much as it can be an eye sore in the living room, put this wonderful must-have in the nursery. It can save you when the baby is inconsolable. And my five year old got a cuddle on it today too.
59. Small portable fold-up stroller (like an umbrella stroller). Worked wonders til the kid was 3 (can't use it til the baby is 6 months). They were perfect for the quick trips and tired legs.
60. Children's Tylenol. Chilren's Motrin. Oh and Orajel. And Benadryl. Of course use these at your doctor's discretion. But you will use it for pain medication for an ear infection. Or for teething pain. Or for whenever your doctor recommends it.
    
61. A calendar. You think that having just a baby doesn't warrant a day planner or calendar? You thought wrong. Infants have 1 week, 1 month, 2 month, 3 month doctor appointments. At least. And then as the child grows older you have pre-school, birthday parties, Halloween get-togethers. Then there is soccer. T-ball. School. Plays. Oh, the list just grows. You might as well get a family calendar now and hang it somewhere that everyone who lives in the house can see it and reach it readily. Start writing in the appointments. They will only grow.
62. Lanolin based breast cream (and damn good nursing bras. Plastic connectors works best). Of course, this is only if you are a nursing mom. My breasts looked like a war zone after a week home with my newborn son. This cream saved my live... It soothes sore or cracked skin and does not need to be washed off before baby nurses again. This time around, I bought 3 tubes of it to just "have around." And of course, my body must have some memory. I didn't get as much chaffing or cracking. And in fact, didn't need this cream much at all. But at least now I have it. Just. In. Case. (Might as well also add a damn good breast pump. Pump In Style rocks. Especially if you are gonna go back to work and pump. I know this is like 3-in-1 but hey, not all Mom's breastfeed).
    
63. Night lights. They scare away "night monsters." Or you can use them to see during a night time diaper change.
    
64. Local zoo membership. If you have one, get it. We originally did the zoo visit on a weekend for fun. Well, The Kiddo loved it. This year we got the annual membership. Number of visits? 5. And we can even go in the winter. Can't beat that entertainment.
65. Table and chairs, child size. Children love to play at a table that is just their size.
    
66. Socks and Underwear. Losts of 'em. And you know I am talking about everyone here. Baby socks--must have. Underwear for bigger kids (mine like boxers. With characters. The Husband wouldn't mind those either).
67. Backpack for the kids. Ever hear something similar: "Take along some toys in your backpack in case we have to wait at the doctor's office." We say it all the time around here. But swap out doctor's office for just about anything. The chidren's toy bag is as much a life saver as the Mommy Bag I talk about above (and yes, bring both when you need behaved children. It's a pain in the ass, but sometimes we wait a long time).
    
68. No Tears Shampoo/Body Wash combo. Not only do you not have to fuss with 2 bottles, you don't have to hear, "Mom, it's gonna get in my eyes." Sure kid, it might. But you won't know it!
69. Board books (like this or this). Especially when kids are about 6 to 18 months. Not only do they look cool and introduce reading, well, the kids can flip the pages themselves. And that will save you a lot of headache.
70. Ibuprofen (Advil or Motrin). Or Aleve. Or whatever works to cure a headache in your home. Because as much as we love our kids, well, they can give you a headache. And you'll need a cure. Quickly.
71. An ExerSaucer. I didn't like wheels on mine, but buy what you want. All I know, is that my almost 5 year old still tries to climb in his old one.
72. Some swag, easy to put on shoes. When you are running out of the door after kidlings or with an infant, well you need some cool shoes that take little effort to put on--but look damn good. In the summer, go for some funky, but elegant flip flops. Spring and Fall? Well I would go for maybe this new Alice Croc (nope, it's not the ugly looking holed ones! It looks like mary janes!). And winter? Well, not something you can slip on with no hands, but definitely a book with a little heel does wonders to make your legs look longer.
73. Bubble bath. Hell, it can be for you when you finally get that 1 hour to yourself and need to soak in the tub. Or for the kids when they need some fun bath time. You decide.
74. The Euro High Chair. Totally loved this once the kiddo could sit up relatively easily and wasn't into the high chair with an attached tray (read, wanted to sit at the table like mom and dad). In fact, it stayed in our kitchen til the kid was almost 3. And he cried when he moved on to a big kid chair. Who knew?
75. A padded potty seat cover (you use it over the seat of the real toilet). Like this. My son was tall. And a normal little potty to train him? Ha! He'd have pissed all over himself (yes, he learned to first pee and poo sitting. It worked for us. And within a month he was peeing standing up. Like Dad.). So we needed something larger and more sizable for him. A padded seat we just put atop the toilet was key.
    
76. A piggy bank. Yep, start giving your kid an allowance at about 2. It can't hurt can it? My son had a piggy bank around that time and we'd give him some of our spare change so he could add it to his "collection." Not only did he learn about money (coins, dollars) he learned the importance of money. Now he earns his allowance by helping with the baby and keeping his room tidy (as in I am not stepping on Legos upon entrance). And he uses his own money to by new super hero figures. Or small toys. And then we even make trips to the bank to help him learn to save. Especially when his piggy bank is overflowing with coins!
77. Thomas the train set. Sure it costs money, but, um--what better way to instill an imagination. The kids BUILD with it! And of course stay busier than without it. Try it with the show on the televison as well. You've got a guaranteed half hour of less-child time.
78. An ongoing grocery list. For me it is a blackboard that we keep on the wall near our kitchen. As soon as I am out of a grocery or household item, it get written on the list. That way when I do my bi (or tri) weekly grocery run, I don't miss a thing.
79. Rattles. They work on infants. That is why they have existed for years. Seriously. If they are a teether and a rattle, even better.
80. A portable DVD player. Seriously. You would have wanted one too when you were a kid. And it works wonders when traveling via air or on long car rides. Or when you want to watch a movie with an above-G rating while locked in the bathroom for peace and quiet.
81. Ketchup. It makes everything taste better for a 2 year old (and still growing at almost 5). Won't try spinach? Well dip in in ketchup, it tastes great! How 'bout eggs? Yeah, ketchup can make almost everything edible (personally the ketchup and egg thing makes me gag, but hey, the kid eats 'em).
82. Ability to sacrifice a bit. Seriously, the people that tell you that parenting can be done without changing a bit of yourself? Full. Of. Shit. When your kid is sick (as in really sick, not just the sniffles, you sometimes have to give up the night out you had planned for 6 months. Or a full night's sleep is shot because you are giving breathing treatments every 4 hours. Parenting is a bit of sacrifice of yourself. But in the long run, you get to watch a being grow and flourish. It is amazing at the same time as difficult. But I wouldn't trade it for the world.
    
83. A crock pot. You can prepare something (large) in the morning and it is ready by dinner. Need a pot roast? Buy a rump and throw it in the crock pot with baby carrots and small red potatoes on low. A short 8 - 10 hours later you have dinner. Want chili, almost as easy. Brown some hamburger, add tomatoe paste, tomatoe sauce, kidney beans, chili beans, some salsa--simmer on low all day. You'll be salvating my 5pm. It can save a dinner time.
84. Leapster L-Max. Seriously. Video Games Educational and hours of entertainment? It is worth every penny. Even for the unGodly expensive game cartridges. Hey, the kid is learning how to add with now (and he's not even 5 yet).
85. Plastic bins. All shapes and sizes. Preferrably clear. You're either going to want them to store all of your kids toys where they can find them (and if you do that, leave off the tops and put them on low shelves. The kids can take the toys in and out the play with and then, of course clean up on their own). OR you are going to use them for storing items for yourself. Whether it is old children's clothing you want to keep, or your own hobby stuff that needs a home other than in the middle of the dining room table.
86. Blank greeting cards. Why blank with simple covers? Well you can use them for everything. Need a Thank You card in a hurry? Done. All you need is a ball point pen. Need a birthday card without running to the store (again)? You've got the cards right there.
87. Disposable razors. Yeah, we all need to shave our legs and under-arms right? Well, I do. And hell if I am going to go all Amazon. Kids or not.
88. Cordless phone (if you have a real phone line in your home). Anyone that doesn't have one of these yet... well is in the dark ages. With children it is a must. Hell, with a husband and loud sports games--it is also a must.
89. A personal dream getaway. Just for yourself (no one else can come along). And once you figure out what it is (for me, it is a small hotel room overlooking a beach someplace tropical. Not too hot and humid though. But enough to let me lie around in shorts and a tank top. I want to sleep in, relax, drink daquiris and write. For about 4 days. And then go home back to reality), make plans to actually DO the dream. Even if it is for 2 years from now, just do it. For yourself. You are worth it.
90. A mop/vaccum combo (like this). It cleans up virtually everything on a kitchen floor-spilled juices, cheerios, pet accidents, human accidents, and well the dirt and grime of living. And if you get really clean-addicted you could get a Roomba as well for the carpeting in your house.
91. Creativity. It doesn't grow in trees, but you can exercise this pretty easily. Especially when you are in the middle of the grocery store and your 2 year old would rather be running amuck in the wild west. You need to create a game on the fly that will keep him occupied for 20 more minutes (grabbing the rest of your groceries and checking out)... what do you do? Me? I make the grocery store a Wild West Ranch. He's got to lasso the latest cactus (Chef Boyardee Ravioli can) and ride the horses to the ranch (ride the cart down the check out aisle). But hey, you can do what you want. It just helps to get creative instead of ride out a tantrum. Don't you think?
92. A cool key dangle. Anything to distinguish your keys from your significant others. And if it lights up, jangles, or spins it will keep any kid busy while you are waiting in line at any store.
93. Cardboard boxes. Preferrably large(r) ones. Kids are creative. And nothing beats a cardboard box.
    
94. Car seats in EACH car you use regularly. It saves a lot of transferring and hooking and well just inconvenience.
    
95. A dream and goal for myself--as in a person/woman--not as a mother. A happy and goal-oriented woman, then becomes a good mother. What better way to be a role model for your children.
96. A thermometer. Whenever you call your pediatrician regarding your child's illness you'll get asked if they are running a fever (Hell, I get asked this same question when I call into my doctor for my own illnesses). Have the thermometer handy. It helps. What kind you buy is up to you--they all work relatively the same. I have one that goes in the ear.
    
97. Carpet cleaner. Spills happen. And so does spit up and wine tipping. A spot carpet cleaner can save the day on more than one occassion.
98. Paper plates. I know, I know, save the planet. But we're talking paper here. RECYCLED paper. And my sanity--especially when we are talking about birthday parties here--can be saved using a paper plate every now and again for my kidling. Or at least plastic. That way nothing can be broken. But paper trumps the plastic when it comes to volume. I don't have to wash 'em!
99. Multi-vitamins. Now honestly, I am not a vitamin gal. But when you have kids, they bring in every germ imaginable to your house. I've been sick too many times to count in the last 5 years (and likely sick more times than in my entire life)--all because the kid brought the illnesses with him (think: kid sick with 24 hour stomach virus. 48 hours later, mom hurling in the nearest toilet). Take your vitamins. Get flu shots. Do what you need to do to stay well. You'll feel better for it. Trust me.
    
100. Hugs and Kisses. Cheap shot I know, but how do you think *I* keep going every day.
101. My significant other and kidlings of course (another cheap shot, but true! Hell, I couldn't be a mother without them)!

** UPDATED: Yes, yes, I forgot 2 items (GASP!). But since I cheated a bit on the last two, I'm adding this as just updates. The JJ Cole Bundle Me Lite carrier cover. Awesome. Can't say enough about it. Now you don't have to worry about falling blankets and cold children. Secondly, Aquaphor. Yep. Use it for diaper rash, dry skin for you or baby, and well anywhere.

Holy crap, I'm done. And this by no means is as easy as I thought it would be. In fact it was damn hard.

Anyway, these 101 lists are somewhat of a feature here at Mommy Writer. And by somewhat I mean, posting on it will be whenever I have the time and/or when I remember I need to make a list. It's all about priorities... eating lunch? Or blogging a 101 list? You decide.

Also (as I have said in previous posts), this is definitely not a meme, but by all means, if you find you'd like to try some similar sort of list on your blog--feel free. And hell, if you want to link back to me-- feel free. I'm not the boss of you (or me). This idea is free to anyone that is dying to make their own list and begin in the fun. Oh, and please, this Mom Necessity List, please tell me in the comments if I missed anything. Wouldn't want a mom to be lost without the next best gadget, gimmick, sanity-saving item!

Labels: 101 Things, motherhood, parenting

3:50 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

With a new baby in tow and my impending return to full time work at the beginning of December. I'm in a bit of a crunch. I need child care. With one kid this isn't an easy feat. But now I've got 2 and I have what one might call "special needs." First, I am going to work from home a few days a week, I have odd hours sometimes, and I have a newborn and an almost 5 year old that needs pre-school mixed in with his care.

Sure, you say, just call up the local day care and sign them up. But any parent knows that idea isn't as easy as it sounds. In fact, it is down-right cruddy. And after moving to a new area is almost killing any semblance of togetherness that I have thrown around me. I was all about signing everyone up at the "old" day care where my son attended. Thing is, they don't take part-time infants. Which--if I don't do the drive every day since I work from home a few days a week--is useless to me. Paying for full time infant care (which, let me remind you IS the most expensive) when I am not going to use it, is ridiculous.

So, I am left in a bit of precarious spot. One that I am not liking right now at all. It has my stomach in knots. I am back on the care-giver prowl.

There is only one bright spot in this all. I've been offered a free trial membership to Care.com. (in full disclosure, I was approached to review this site for its usefulness. And the fact is, I took them up on it. I AM in need of child care. What better way to see if this site works or not). The main goal of this new website is to help you find babysitters, nannies, and pet sitters. So in no more than a few minutes I registered and was able to cruise around the site for some initial investigation. Here's some initial thoughts:

• The site is easy to navigate
• Within seconds I had a list of care givers right in my city (used the form right there on the landing page).
• I was able to view short bios, revise my search, and even check out any photos or web sites they offered as information
• And if I were in the market for senior care, tutoring, or pet care services... well all of that was right there for my choosing too. In the top tab panel navigation I was completely able to switch in and out of the services I wanted to search into.

All of this was great. Even put me at a little ease. At least until I have to go about interviewing these child care people. Because one cannot be too safe these days. Especially considering I was thinking maybe (just maybe) I would have someone come to my home each day to take care of the kidlings. And bring The Kiddo back and forth to a pre-school program. Oh the variables and choices! I, seriously, hate this whole process (and thus far have avoided it). But I am forging forward. I have to! I moved on to the short survey so that I could request my full 3 month trial-period. In a matter of hours, I was all set up!

The full membership added some important additional features: access to actual contact information, references and their contact information (and videos), as well as the ability to perform a background check (you get 1 free and then pay for additional). Is this too easy? I mean, how much more can one ask for in a web site?

I'm not sure. I haven't gone any further in my investigations yet. I've narrowed my search by availability of the caregiver. By the age range of children they have had experience. By other duties they might cover. If they had transportation. And then of course a million other questions and concerns I had reading their profile. Because--as you know--finding a care giver for your children is huge. So huge in fact I am still queasy starting this interview process. But, well, I don't have a choice.

You want to check them out too? It's easy, just go here and fill out the survey. If you qualify, you'll get a 3 month trial membership too. And maybe we can compare notes. Because I am still uneasy. An anxious. And all those things I said I wouldn't be when I said I was going back to work.

Oh and if you decide to go about registering for the official Care.com benefits (outside the 3 month trial)? Here are those details too (or go to the site here for full details):

• Basic membership is Free. But all you get to see are brief bios. No contact info, no references, no... well not much. But at least you can see if there ARE care-givers in your area.
  
  
• Monthly Membership (which I term as Basic plus Membership paid monthly) is $10 a month with a $30 set up fee. This includes: Seeing all bios, posting jobs, seeing contact information, 1 free background check with option to pay for others, and references. Basically full run of the site. And what you get in the trial period.
  
  
• Now, if you want to go all out, you can get the Annual Membership. It costs $100 (no set up fee). It includes everything in the Monthly Membership, but you don't have to pay for the background checks (or at least that is what it seems like. You would have to register with this membership to confirm.

Anyway, that is the info as I know it. I am still in the throws of looking for child care. So I am not really sure of the quality of people that this site attracts. But as soon as I come out the other end of the child care madness, I'll tell you what scenario I ultimately ended up choosing. And whether this site helped or not. Until then, browse. Or even sign up for a trial yourself!

Labels: motherhood, parenting, working

9:56 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

"My tummy hurts. I feel like I am going to throw up."

Labels: kid wittisms, motherhood, motherhood bytes, parenting

4:21 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Imagine a chef with a drip cloth neatly tucked on the belt of his apron. You know, the towel to dry his hands on, wipe a mess? Yeah that one. Crisp white, folded thing that doesn't leave his side as he prepare scrumptious meals for all the high-end restaurant patrons.

Okay. No imagine a mom of two. The youngest being just under 2 months old. Who nurses roughly every 2 hours a day. And burps. And on occasion doesn't know when to stop nursing. And burps up the goodness of her last meal. Add in an almost 5 year old boy to the mix. One who loves to wash things off in the bathroom sink. Color on the kitchen table. Drip ketchup onto the table, floor, chair... you get the idea. And you see where this drip cloth thing can work for the mom. Right?

Only mine is an official burp rag. Or cloth diaper. And it usually has some sorta girl pattern of flowers, hearts, pink colors, teddy bears. And it is neatly tucked into the squinched waistline of my pants. Or crammed partially into my jeans pocket.

Seriously, it should be part of the official mommy uniform. Then we can work on making it a bit more fashionable.

Labels: baby, kid, motherhood, parenting

2:13 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

I'm thinking of a word uttered (or muttered depending on the day) by every mother on the planet. Especially when it is late(r) at night and the house has yet to be cleaned and children that were rough to put to bed. Oh, and that very same mother, hasn't even started to do what she really wanted to do today.

For me, that was write. And read. But others--that could be a favorite television show, paint her toe nails, lie in a coma....

Any guesses?

Hint: This particular word starts with the letter E.

Labels: baby, kid, life, motherhood, parenting

11:33 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

I spent the better part of the day chasing down a store that can silk screen and/or embroider the word COACH onto a t-shirts, sweatshirt, or hoodie for The Kiddo's soccer team's coach. And that sounds like an easy enough task--oh had it been 3 weeks ago and I had time to order the damn thing online, where they actually had the type of sweatshirt and t-shirt I was imagining. But, then again, I only came up with the idea after practice last week.

Then I had to open my mouth to...err, I mean get agreement from the other soccer moms at said practice. And of course, when you volunteer a gift idea, suddenly it is your responsibility to purchase the gift. Or maybe it is just me.

Anyway, gift purchased. Not ideal. Not perfect. But good enough from a bunch of 4 and 5 year olds. The better part of the gift, nearly perfect from us moms in the bunch. Just a forewarning--it is impossible to find a pre-made shirt with the word COACH on it. Ask around, 2 out of the 5 stores I visited today needed an order of 6 shirts or more to customize any t-shirt/hoodie/article of clothing. Now what would I do with 6 COACH shirts? I guess I could give the 4 other shirts to my closest girl friends (keeping one for myself of course) and start up a housekeeping league? Signing the kids up as the team members might actually make the idea of keeping a house a home more entertaining.

All I can say is, next time, remind me to not open my mouth. Or volunteer.

Labels: motherhood, soccer, The Kiddo

6:48 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

I've landed right into the pit of new parenting. Want proof? I text messaged poop reports to The Husband. Twice today.

Let me go make myself another cup (pot) of coffee and throw on some Elmo. That will seal the deal.

Labels: motherhood, parenting

4:43 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

It's official! Last night at approximately 10:12pm, we got The Peanut's very first real smile (not sleep smiles, not the I-saw-myself-in-the-mirror-and-grinned--a real, smile). And I can proudly say, it was for my eyes only.

Labels: baby, motherhood, parenting

10:14 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

I have finally (finally) calmed down and found myself in odd moments of the day relaxing. Noticing that even though I am a bit tired and frumpy, I am in a new-found element of motherhood that I am enjoying. I am not distracted by work conference calls or e-mails. Nor am I being bothered by crying or insistence by The Kiddo to watch yet another episode of Diego.

In these moments of clarity I realize one thing, this life with kids? Well it is fulfilling isn't it? I mean sure we get frustrated by whining and crying and another dirty diaper. We get sudden bouts of exhaustion so deep that we don't know that one sock in indeed a dark gray and the other a faded navy or that we had already eaten breakfast 3 hours earlier before the crack of dawn. And there are days I wonder why I tortured myself into becoming a soccer mom (yes, I do love watching my son play and have fun and basically be outdoors with other kids enjoying the excitement of the game--it is the pure running around part of it that is, how can I say this?, stressful. And completely amusing at the same time... since hey, I just ran around the neighborhood and chasing frogs and snakes in my young childhood). Or that I decided to have another kid that is breastfeeding like a champ and keeping me up all hours of the night.

Then there are the other moments. When an almost 6-week old smiles for the first time at "the other baby in the mirror." Or when the Kiddo makes me a "letter" telling me he loves me to the bottom of his heart. And that he has my favorite dinner waiting "in the oven in his room." Honestly, it makes me wonder what I did with the rest of my life. Or at least it does right now, when I am, for the first time ever, just a mom. And enjoying it. At least until later tonight when I quite possibly could be kept up all night consoling a completely irreconcilable baby. And another that vomited all of tonight's dinner all over my side of the bed since he'd likely wandered in moments before in a fit of loneliness that only a mom (or dad) can cure.

But, hey. I am not complaining. It is all a part of the journey. The one I am completely enjoying right now, in this very moment. Even though I can barely keep my eyes open at the late hour of 9:30pm.

Labels: baby, life, motherhood, parenting

9:22 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Is it possible to get a rash from now showering for 3 days?

I'm serious. It wasn't intentional--the non-showering thing. I had ever intention of showering on day 1. And then the baby decided she didn't want to nap. And then when she did, I had laundry to do. Food to prepare. A four year old boy who just had to have his lost video game found. And well, the shower was the last on the list.

Day 2 was roughly the same. Only the husband wanted to get an hair cut after dinner. So I had to get something on the table while the kid slept. And I wanted to actually spend some outdoor time with the Kiddo. So, I spent the other nap time with Peanut in a stroller and kicking around a soccer ball with the other kid.

Yesterday? Yeah, well, I decided an afternoon nap was a better option. Involuntarily nodding off during the afternoon's showing of Blue's Clues was, well, an indication of what I needed. Sleep won over cleanliness. And the itchiness started just under my neck. On my chest. And now I just think I am a hypochondriac.

Labels: baby, motherhood, parenting

2:01 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Did you know if you rub (lightly) the bottom of The Peanut's feet she dozes off the sleep? Really. I tried it several times last night when she was not wanting to go back to sleep. And. It. Worked.

I'm jotting it down as Peanut Secret #32 (she has at least 31 others I've learned in her short 5 weeks of life already. But this one? Well, it is the most valuable one so far!).

Labels: baby, motherhood

11:51 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

You read that right. As of last week, I can call myself an official, badge certified, soccer mom. The Kiddo has the uniform, played a few games, attended practices and even scored 2 soccer goals.

Hmmm. Everything I never thought I would be.

Oh well. At least I am having fun doing it. And The Kiddo isn't stir crazy with a Mom who is normally working when at home, now home full time. With a baby.

Labels: motherhood, parenting, The Kiddo

11:34 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

The truth of it all is that I am having a hard time relaxing. I'm constantly fiddling with diapers, laundry, dishes, and... well nursing a 3 week old kid, attending small lunches with friends (to show off the baby of course), and finding a spare moment to spend quality time with the Kiddo. Before I know it, my time away from work will be over and I'll have to go back. And, well, I won't have relaxed and enjoyed my time with The Peanut.

Is this normal? I mean, when I was preparing for my leave I had grand plans of afternoons of motherhood. Pure, uninterrupted motherhood. The days I dream about when I am in the midst of a work deadline and have spent over 8 hours on conference calls and still have about 4 hours (or more) of work to complete to make our dates. And here I am, anxious. Nervous. Stomach turning almost every morning and afternoon with unfounded nervousness that I can't quite put a finger on for a cause.

And then there is the whole going back to work. And as much as I don't want to admit--I don't want to go back. Again. I didn't when I had The Kiddo, and I'm at that place again. I'd like to think that is the reason why my stomach can't quite settle itself and why I just can't enjoy my motherhood skin (because, well, I won't be able to continue that precedent when I go back to work). But somewhere in my skull, I think it is more than that.

My hunch is that it all comes down to security. And all the unspoken mom stuff that we don't always talk about. Of course the is the exhaustion. The bone dry, hard working, keeping a baby alive exhaustion that comes along for the first year of life. Then there is all the uncertainty around a new being--is this how they want to sleep, are they still breathing, what was that noise they just made, and how can I make it through another restless night of no sleep--and well, just all that stuff that makes us mothers. And then there are all the questions. Endless questions from what I can only hope are well-intentioned family and friends. How is the baby sleeping (she isn't, she's 3 weeks old)? How is she eating (constantly, that is what they do at 3 weeks)? Is she crying all the time (only when we change her diaper and she is hungry)? How are you sleeping (see response to the first question, I am not)? Are you napping when she is napping (um, I have to eat and urinate every now and again don't I)? How about overwhelmed, are you there yet (when haven't I been)?

You get the idea. As much as all of these people really think they are helping. Or at least making conversation and small talk--it really doesn't help my stomach. Or nerves. Not only do I feel like a broken record, repeating the answers over and over, I feel like every time I answer I am failing in some way. Not that any answer is failing--but it seems everyone knows someone who had a newborn sleep in 4 hour stints or more right from the womb (and if you DO know someone like this, please get them in touch with me... I tend to think that is some urban myth). And then it just makes me feel like shit because of course, I am not sleeping a wink (well I am sleeping but about 2 hours at a time if I am lucky).

And then there is the age old emotion all mothers feel. Whether you intend to or not (or whether you try to suppress it or not)--Worry. Constant worrying.

I never lost that worry with my son. And now with my daughter it is compounded almost three-fold. And I'm sitting right in the middle of it when all I want to do is enjoy this time away from work. Away from my normal life. I want to hold my son at night to tell him I love him one extra time--instead of logging back onto work to finish up some final details for a project. I want to nurse and hold my daughter long into the night so that I can watch her little hidden smiles she shares deep in her sleep (at least until I see those same smiles in the day time). I want to spend weeks away from my cell phone and computer checking text messages and e-mails that require my immediate attention. I want to use the part of my brain reserved for all those work details for something more valuable, like more family memories of late fall days of doing nothing, but everything with my kids and family.

Instead, I can't relax. I can't let go. And I can't seem to get it out of my head that I am now a mother of two that still knows nothing about how to enjoy her time as "just a mom." Because right now, I'd love to be just a mom for at least another 13 more weeks and remember every second of it.

Labels: baby, motherhood, parenting, working

6:31 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

I'm a parent (duh!). And if you are a parent and haven't heard of Elizabeth Pantley... well, you are missing out on some valuable, gentle, parenting advice.

Now I know what you are thinking. Another parental advice book? Another book about telling me how I am doing this whole sleep/eating/discipline/learning thing wrong (or right)? Well, not really. Elizabeth, for one, is a parent. Yep, 4 kids. And you know what, she writes from experience. And her experiences, are very much like what you or I have experienced. From those, she then offers advice--mom-to-mom (parent-to-parent) about how to deal with children from infants on up.

I first heard of Elizabeth way back when my Kiddo was about 6 months old. He loved to sleep in our bed. Nurse some more and then sleep back in our bed. And then wake up and want to be back in our bed. Every hour and a half all night long. I think I had 20 minutes of sleep time between feedings and holdings and I was on the edge of losing it. And wondering where I had gone wrong in my young parenting skills. Seriously. I was thinking that this parenting thing was for the birds, and I was going to throw in the towel about my child EVER spending one night in his own bedroom. Hell, I was ready to deal with it until he was 18 years old if I had to--just give me a full night of sleep (or at least 4 hours)!

That is exactly when I landed upon Elizabeth's first book, THE NO CRY SLEEP SOLUTION, Gentle Ways to Help Your Baby Sleep Through the Night. The book saved my life. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that it solved every sleep issue The Kiddo (and I) had, but it did solve the biggest of the issues. And it definitely made me feel better about my parenting choices. Want to know why? Elizabeth's voice, concern, honestly--and well basic understanding of what I wanted to do as a parent. Which brings me to today's review. Her latest treasure of a book-- THE NO-CRY DISCIPLINE SOLUTION, Gentle Ways to Encourage Good Behavior Without Whining, Tantrums & Tears.

As with her first book, this one also takes the GENTLE approach. The guidance, kind, and patient approach to working with one's child to change a behavior. THE reason I love Elizabeth's books so much. And what perfect timing--my son had joined the ranks of a 4-year old. Past infant, past toddler, and almost school age!

Before I dig into the content, let's talk a little about research. Elizabeth is relentless--in that she works with what she calls "test mommies and daddies." These are a core group of parents that she talks with, surveys, provides concrete methods to test, and then surveys again, e-mails/calls, communications, and basically tests every little suggestion she writes about. You know, to see if it works. And this book is no different. In fact, she had over 200 families in this round, across the world. The whole 202 girl count versus 209 boys, twins, toddlers, preschoolers, school aged, you name it. And guess what, she knows them all intimately by name. And that is why I, again, love the books. She takes the successes (and difficulties) personally and it show is the way she writes her books.

What did I love most about the NO-CRY DISCIPLINE BOOK? A lot. Here's a smidgen:

• Father/Mother-Speak call outs. Love these! They are "real" quotes from dads and moms about their experiences. You know the ones--quotes we find our heads shaking yes (or no) to because we relate on so many levels we could say them ourselves.
  
  
• The idea to look at the BIG picture of raising a child, not all the details, trivial matters, and well all the day to day stuff. This is all over in the book. The idea that what we do today will in turn help us tomorrow. And that all the details of day to day life that might stress us out, well, that is normal, but not what we should focus on.
  
  
• REAL solutions, I can take away from the book and bring into my real life and USE. Whether it is a suggestion to make play time out of chores, diaper changes, or behavioral talk back-or actual solutions to sleepiness and constant crankiness. And these aren't just one time, one possible solutions--these are a bunch of options to choose from.
  
  
• Reminders. Charts. Key Points. Worksheets. Surveys. All the concrete stuff that I will pick up again and again. Not that I am going to keep this book on the bedside table forever (then again with a newborn in the house, I might need that much constant reminding)--but it is definitely something I will refer back to. Or recommend to friends. The information, though sometimes common sense, is well informed and definitely something when thrown into parenthood (and bad days) that one needs to remember and freshen up on after a long day of parenting work.
  
  
• A fresh perspective on Anger. Yep. We all deal with it as parents. Whether we are really truly angry with our child (it happens), or more commonly, when we are angry about something else and it gets directed at your child (admit it, we've all done this. Unfortunately). There is a whole section on this that I read (Part 3, A Peaceful Home: Staying Calm and Avoiding Anger). And reread. And found myself nodding. Tearful. And completely understanding that I have as much a part of this anger thing as my Kiddo does.
  

The book is wonderful. And it doesn't have to be read cover to cover (or in order), just placed on your shelf and read when you have a moment. Or a tough day. Or when you want to know why you may have over-reacted when Billy spilled chocolate milk on the carpet. Or, well, when you are in the throws of toddler hood.

I know, I know. You are a parent and don't have a lot of time to read. But guess what? This book is broken into easy to read, FAST sections. Take a look at the table of contents, find what is relevant to you and READ it. 15 minutes of time (at most). I swear. It will be well worth you time. Elizabeth's easy to read, down to earth advice will hit home. And make you think you have known her and her family since--well, forever. And she's a girlfriend sharing a parent secret you never knew.

Want to know more?
- Buy the book here at Amazon.
- Visit Elizabeth Pantley's web site (FULL of information, additional materials, excerpts, etc for ALL her books).
- Read the following excerpts from the book:

» Hitting, Kicking, Biting and Hair Pulling
» Interrupting
» Tantrums, Fussing and Whining
» What Triggers Your Anger?
» Banish Common Parenting Myths

- Read Elizabeth's Bio here.
- Need Advice about sleeping patterns of your children, discipline, or baby care? She's got an entire portion of her web site dedicated to helping you. Check it out here.
- You can even join her mailing lists! She's got many, chalked full of information (really). See what's available and how you can sign up here.

Hope you enjoy the book as much as I do. And, well, see you in the parenthood universe. We're in it together!

* Elizabeth herself asked me if I wanted to get a free copy of her book to review. Of course, I said yes! I'd already purchased her first book way back when (3 years ago or so)... and expected the same down to earth and REAL advice in this book. I was right. And clearly wanted to share my excitement about her book with all of you too! And Elizabeth is just as kind in person (well via e-mail) as she is in the book.

Labels: blog tour, books, motherhood, parenting, reviews

10:54 AM | Permalink | 1 comments

The baby is sleeping. The Kiddo fed lunch. Husband working (from home). And me? Blogging. Imagine that. But even more astonishing, I feel a bit human today even though I was awake more than half the night with a grunting child who couldn't pass a bowel movement if the earth and suddenly burst open and spurt its inner core to the surface. Or at least that is what I imagine. At just half past 11 today, she finally did the deed, and, is now, as I said, sleeping peacefully. And in her bassinet no less.

And what will I do with my time? Hoping to get another chapter or three read in my latest book. Write a blog review of a book that has been sitting in my to-be-read pile for the last three months. And, possibly, start that rewrite that I am hoping to start this week. All in the matter of a nap that could range from 20 minutes to 3 hours? Well, yes, that is the life of a motherhood. And motherhood of a newborn. In fact, here's a little running list of what we, as new mothers, try to accomplish during a *nap* time (you know, when you are supposed to be "napping when the baby naps.")

• take a shower (that sour breast milk smell gets bad after day 3)
  
• warm/cook/serve food for yourself or any family member to eat
• start another load of laundry
• fold the laundry that has been in the dryer since the last laundry bash
• finish watching the home improvement show
• blog or surf the web
  
• read the book you started months ago
• stare at the wall and wonder where to start on your list of house cleaning activities
• clean the *other* kid's room (or the office, kitchen, basement, living room...)
• pack up the newborn and head to the grocery store to buy all the various things you are missing for dinner
• make a nice, large, espresso drink
• sleep (yeah, that)
• writing (for me anyway)
• quality time with Kid 1
• quality time with The Husband
• check e-mail
• call friends, family members, dentist, doctor...
• feed the various pets we have around here (dog, cats, fish)
• bathe children
  

And really the list could go on and on and on... but sleep when the baby sleeps? Ha! Who would think! And do I think I am superwoman? Oh God no. Just trying to keep my house together. Or at least put a band aid on the parts that are ready to fall apart. And, I am relaxed. Really. As compared to when I gave birth to my son, this list has suddenly shrunk to only necessities. Like eating. An occasional shower. And yes, a bit of sleep. But not always in the right order.

Labels: life, motherhood, parenting

12:52 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

The kiddo took a nap--the first in many months--all on his own today. Without prodding, bribing, convincing, or a forceful word.

Maybe I'm not failing at this motherhood thing after all.

Labels: kid, motherhood, parenting

3:30 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

"I don't want you to have the baby mom."

What? Did my beloved child just dis the coming child? Oh. My. God. I think my heart just plummeted below the pit of my stomach into the dire straights of my callused heels.

"Why?" Honestly, it was all I could udder/choke/cry before I searched the house for someone else to hear the answer.

"Because you can't go on carnival rides with me. And I want you to go on the roller coasters and spinning rides. The baby won't let you. And that makes me mad."

And it makes me want to laugh. Almost. Until I realize how serious this is for the kiddo. Fun, toys, rides, carnivals, and friends are his life. One that I had to tell him I couldn't join this weekend because of the baby. And all you parents out there know--when the new little one does join us, well, I'll be saying that statement again. I am sure. And boy--it is going to kill some of the good vibes for the kiddo isn't it?

Labels: kid wittisms, motherhood, parenting

7:49 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

A 2 hour nap. And an afternoon errand/chore/housework free.

Who can ask for more?

Labels: motherhood

10:24 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

It's Friday night. 10:20pm. My four year old son sipping away at a homemade vanilla milkshake at my side enjoying his last show for the evening. All in a Friday night's routine, I'd say. But not really. It is about an hour an twenty minutes past his normal bedtime.

His normal 9pm bedtime is considered late by most of my parenting friends' standards. One close friend of mine has her kids tucked in and sleeping by 7:30pm... we're only sitting down for dinner! I could blame it on the fact that the husband doesn't get home before 7pm ever. Or the fact that I am a natural night person (as is my husband and the kid). Or the fact that the kiddo has been trained to live my life style more suitably than one that might be better for a kid. But then I remember...

Does it really matter?

No. In this parenting business, you do what works for you. As long as you're children are happy, healthy, and not abused in any way--parent however the hell you want. I won't judge. I mean, my kid sleeps in until 9am or so in the morning. How can I beat that?

Labels: motherhood, parenting

10:20 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Oh you know, one of these I-can't-believe-I-can-take-a-piss-without-someone-interrupting moments. The ones parents often get at any old time a day when the kids are sleeping or otherwise occupied (or in my case the kid's occupied AND I have no one from work chirping in my ear or e-mail inbox).

Anyway, mine was in the most unusual place. In my car, eating a good ole fast food burger for lurch (with lettuce and ketchup escaping the back of the bun and landing somewhere mid-thigh on my pant leg. Thank God for blue jeans!). Granted it wasn't the most relaxing lunch (or ideal). But what does one do with a day of back-to-back meetings comfortably surrounding her monthly OB doctor's appointment for the impending new baby? It was the only time I had to eat! And, well, for myself.

Speaking of which... now I am off to feed those that interrupt that Me Time. So, go find a moment for yourself. It's good for you!

This post is part of My Moment, an effort by Maya's Mom to encourage all parents to find some space in their lives for themselves.

Labels: life, Maya's Mom, motherhood

7:07 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

Yep, that's right--we're having a girl.

The news hasn't quite sunk in yet (thus my lack of posting about it). I am not sure why--other than the fact that my life has been full of testosterone and Super Heroes for the last 4 years. But, hey, I'm game for a new challenge. And a little girl around the house will definitely be that.

It seems every family member and friend who knew of the pregnancy had been beating on a girl from day one. I can't figure out if I was that much in the dark about the whole thing or they were all wishful thinking (you know the odd *wish* of having a child of each sex). Either way, I guess they were right. For me, I just wanted a healthy baby. And so far... it seems that is what I am getting. But that baby's a girl!

So, take a happy pink day. Relax. Revel in your inner girl (if you're a guy and reading, just think a little red, that will work too). And keep sending those healthy baby vibes my way! I'll need 'em to survive a hefty work and writing schedule this summer before the baby arrives!

Labels: baby, motherhood

7:53 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

"Mom, can you check this itchy spot on my butt?"

Labels: day job, kid wittisms, motherhood

10:48 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

Now this is a surprise. I've been nominated and placed on the Mother's Day Central top 100 mommy blogs.



[insert gasp here]

Really. The proof is in the pudding, the entire list is here, so check it out. I am a little speechless (even at #86). Honestly, I made a list that has Dooce, Mom 101, and Mommy off the Record on it? Hell, I think I need to get a drink (oh calm down, it's milk folks! I remember I'm pregnant!).

Labels: award, blog, motherhood

9:49 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

I've learned a few things in the past week or so (which if you take into account my sleeping habits as of late, you'd wonder how the hell I've gotten anything done). All of these learnings are all pregnancy and baby related, so if this isn't what you want to read, well feel free to click away now.

The first of these big learnings (either of which is really earth shattering) is that being about 5 years older than I was when I was pregnant with my son has all but done my body in. I am out of breath constantly and I would like nothing better than to sleep constantly. Now all of this may not be a surprise to all of you, but to me, it feels like the rug has been pulled out from under me. The first time around I was able to bounce back into full swing during the second trimester. I was working full time with little adjustments to my schedule. Was downing bottles of water in full pregnancy mode and well, able to keep up with the husband in a nice trot through the mall. This time around you'd think I was trying to carry an anvil across my middle.

My back aches. I lie in a puddle of sleep each and every morning--when I should be getting up to tend to work or the kiddo that is now a four and a half year old that needs undivided mommy time before the second comes along. What the hell has happened? Five years is nothing right?

As for that second learning, well, it is of even less importance that what you might think. But for me, it's still an eye opener. I'm still in denial. After the crappy fallness called my life, I haven't let myself fully drop into this pregnancy bliss. Sure, I've watched what I've eaten, I've rested, and I even had to pull out the maternity clothes. But my defenses were up and I have kept the hopes for the baby at bay for my protection as well as my sanity. But now we have our 20 week appointment on Tuesday. And for those of you not akin to the pregnancy calendar, that means we have the 20 week ultrasound. Which means, sex talk. No, not the sex, sex can you still have it even with what feels like a football in your abdomen discussion--that would be too fun. Oh and so you know, it sure is possible. It is the sex of the baby talk.

Are we gonna find out the sex? Yep. Are we gonna share? I am sure eventually once the family and close friends hear the news--I might even share it here. BUT, the real point is... this makes it REAL. I mean, real real. As in. Wow. I am having another baby.

This is a good thing. One we--as a family unit--had hoped for. But, um, how can I put this correctly. What the hell were we thinking? The up all night long stuff? The oh-God-can-this-kid-be-done-nursing-yet thoughts. Oh and the whole spontaneity that has become a bit of the norm around here again. It'll be gone in a poof of a second (or hours as my labor is likely to go). I am not so sure I am ready for this again. Not to mention the idea of juggling two kids around.

Again, this *is* something thought about before doing the deed that has one in my condition. Hello? I did it one time around, I am no idiot when it comes to the second time. But we all have a right to second guess ourselves right? Or at least wonder what life will be like in the future. Which is right where I am at right now. Well that, and lying on the couch in something resembling a pile of nodding-off rubbish that would like nothing better than non-responsibility for a few months before another little urchin screams into the world.

Labels: life, motherhood, parenting, pregnancy

9:12 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Somewhere between laundry load four and five--and the second fill of the dishwasher, I realized I am more like my stay-at-home mother than I'd ever imagined I would be.

First and foremost, my mom had a split personality. Early on in my childhood she was the creme De Le creme of Susie Homemaker. Sewed some great tweed matching pants for my sister and I, cooked home cooked meals three times a day, and was in charge of the annual neighborhood garage sale. She took the cake in being organized and happy with watching all the neighborhood kids while other mom's worked. And hell, as a kid in it all, I thought it was Fab too--why wouldn't I? My best friend could come over every day and play!

When I hit about 5th grade, things changed a bit. My mom went back to school to become a registered nurse. And after been through the whole college thing--how she managed a household, 2 kids, a full course load, and still managed to graduate with a 4.0 is beyond me. But she did it--and embarked on a whole new part of her life. A career.

Which, for anyone that knows me in real life, is the reason why (or one anyway) I am so driven and ambitious today. Hell, if she could do it, why the hell couldn't I? Only, she was adamant I'd do the career thing first instead of family (not that there is anything wrong with that). Which I did for a good nine years or so before family hit. And I think it was as much a surprise to my mother (that we were actually expecting and then did have a child) that it was to me. Since about twelve years old and the arrival of womanhood, I was adamant I didn't want a family. Or even a boy. Really. At puberty, they aren't worth the pain are they?

Fast forward to my thirties. I am juggling a kid, a full time career, a marriage, a household, and the next kid incoming in a whole 4 months or so. All that on a whole, isn't that different than what I expected (well, when I grew out of the boy-hating stage). I'm generally content with my life and feel that I am doing what I *should* be doing in the world (not putting aside my dreams for other more practical things and at least still dreaming). But what kills me--is the domesticity thing.

Seriously. Who knew that my life would be filled with laundry, dishes, and picking up after every other human in my house? My evenings begin with dinner prep, dinner eating, and then dinner clean up. And not only does that kill ones perception of adventure, then I'm bathing and dressing a kid for bed, cleaning up trails of toys, and then starting more laundry than I ever thought three human beings could muster in a whole three days.

That is EXACTLY what I remember my mother doing throughout most of my childhood. The cooking, cleaning, nagging, and well... me. Even when she was going to school. Even after school and she had started her career. They say the apple does not stray far from the tree--but this? Feels more surreal than believable. I'm almost convinced it is more a part of motherhood than the actual birthing and teaching the young part. But maybe it's just my daunting realization that I am more like my mother than what I had imagined. Or maybe it's the frustration that I have landed where my mother did. Either way, it's doubtful there is any leeway for change. At least for ridding myself of all the domesticity. Though I'm taking bids for getting rid of the laundry. And dishes. As soon as humanly possible. I'm thinking the kid's good at sorting colors. He'd be handy in the laundry room, right?

Labels: life, motherhood

7:19 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Honestly, the last month of my life has just whirled by so fast, I think I have forgotten everything but to breath. So, bear with me, as most of what I have to tell you is old news. Or old enough, that if I do chat with you in real life often, you already knew this. Or suspected it. Or well, just figured I was losing my mind (always a possibility).

I'm pregnant.


Yep, again. And four months along this time. So, seems this one will stick (and I don't mean that in any mean or derogatory way. I've been in the icky place earlier this year, I can get away with it).

One would think with all the celebrations, morning sickness, and growing belly--I'd be overwhelmed in the funnish things called obsessing with pregnancy and preparing for a second kiddo. When, in fact, I am drowning in the day jobness. As such, much of the day jobness has flowed into nightness and I've had little time to absorb the reality of--yes, this pregnancy is real. Oh and I've got a book to finish (again).

So, please forgive my delay in sharing the news. I can either blame work distractions, plain old absentmindedness, or the fact that this is kiddo 2-- all things are delayed.

To help in my guilt, please share. What haven't you shared in the last month you should have?

Labels: baby, life, motherhood, parenting

10:37 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

"I broke my skeleton," the kid flops out his right arm as if someone had removed it from the shoulder socket, "See? It doesn't work anymore."

Stifling laughter for a bit of sincerity I ask, "What happened?"

"The video game. It really broke my arm. And I can't use it anymore."

Now normally his sobbing would have me heartbroken. This time, I had to do everything in my power to maintain control over my ever-increasing urge to laugh.

Video games can break arms--or skeletons--who knew?

Labels: kid wittisms, motherhood

11:50 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

This morning, in my brilliance, to get the kid out of bed and dressed in record time and out the door early-- I did what every mother should. Dug in the dirty clothes hamper for the favorite T-shirt ever, gave it a quick sniff for apparent odors (none), the once over for obvious food stains (minimal), and then gave it to the kid to wear for the day.

It worked. Fastest morning routine ever.

Labels: life, motherhood

11:25 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

Wanna life-trade for a day? Imagine this:

-- 8am conference call. No really. Here's the full picture. Naked kid giggling hysterically after a bath in front of me. Cell phone in the crook of an already tired neck (2nd call of the morning), trying to dress the wiggling off spring--while sitting on the floor, half dressed myself. And then being asked a question. While negotiated the day's clothing. When can you just refuse to unmute?

-- Call number 3. In car. Half way to work. Child screaming for an instant breakfast. Pop Tart. maybe chips. Maybe juice box. Maybe nothing. Oh yes, more questions that need answering on the conference call.

-- 4 hours later. On yet another conference call. Knowing it is right (in the business sense) to pick up another project. Realizing I losing my handle on sanity quickly. There aren't enough hours in the day.

-- It was after 3:30pm before I went to bathroom for the first time that day.

-- It was after 4pm and I still hadn't eaten a thing.

-- I cooked dinner while on a yet another conference call.

-- It was after 10pm and I was still working. Does that count as over-time? Or comp-time? Please tell me I am not alone in the chaos.

And lastly, this craziness (oh, sorry, I mean routine) is normal these weeks. So normal, my son asks me--in a matter of habit-- if I am on a conference call before he speaks to me.

So, my offer stands. Life-swap?

Labels: life, motherhood, working

2:16 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Somewhere between 2:30am and 4am when I was up for the third time with a coughing kid I realized that I was in one of those Not-So-Nice-Parenthood-Moments. One of the moments where I wonder how I can even function or will function the next day--and then somehow I do. All be it, much more slowly and grouchier, but I manage.

It's the nasty cold that is going around. The runny nose. Fever. And of course the cough. Now a cough for a normal kid is nothing to jump and wave your arms around about. But for my kid--and his constant battle with infant asthma--we have problems. Problems named Abuteral and breathing treatments. When an inkling of a cough is heard, we rush to the nebulizer and our routines begin.

This time around, technically, I should be happy. After 3 nights of constant treatments every four hours, snuggles, and a few tears, the cold just might be a cold and nothing more. Which would be a first in the past 2 years for us. No chest infections. No Predlisone. No pneumonia. What a miracle. But in my head, when I am up for the sixth time for the third night in a row--I wonder what I got myself into.

Labels: kid, motherhood, sickness

11:32 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

Yesterday was a typical day. Wake up to my husband's alarm, stumble to the kitchen to pack up lunches, check work e-mail, and manage a hardy breakfast juice and pop tart (which is optional in this normal routine). After the husband left, I ventured to a shower, the normal hygiene and work attire rig-a-ma-roe, and then it was time to wake the kid and take care of the pets.

Forty minutes later, the kid was dressed and almost cooperating for the car ride to day care. The animals were fed, pet, and again back in position for a day of nothing while we ventured out into the world. And so it went.

Car ride. Day care drop off. Arrival at work. Work. Conference calls. More work. A lunch-time spot to the old house to shovel the 4 inches of snow off the driveway, sidewalks, and porch. Then back at work for more of the same. Until 5:30ish. Then, back to the day care, picked up the kid, drove home, and started dinner.

See this is where it gets a bit disturbing. I do the same damn thing almost every day. Just sometimes, I don't have to do the drive and day care stuff. Instead I just skip to the work part. But most of the time I don't even notice.

Sure a few months ago I was dying for normality. House showings from hell and pristine living just isn't for me--and it was obviously stressing me out (and in reality still is. Only I am not living in it. Just wanting the other home sold). So this normality, is nice. Or was nice. Or will be nice when I can finally enjoy it with some casual trips to the store to say--buy a shirt I've been oogling over. Or a coffee house for some down time.

A long time ago (like in high school), I was all about change. I loved erratic schedules. Being busy. Rustling around and doing all the fun stuff called a social life. Right now I am stuck in housewifely motherhood blahs. I mean, who can just drop everything to head out to listen to a band play on Thursday night? Not with a 4 year old with you all evening til the husband gets home. And man, all those workshops and nights out with girlfriends? Things of the past. And right now, I'm needing a bit of refueling. And it isn't in the rest and normalcy. I need a sense of adventure. Any suggestions? It would have to be after 8pm (dinner's over the husband's home to watch the kid) and before about midnight. I shrivel to a drooling mess about that time since I am up before the sun rises.

Man. I've just turned into my mother.

Labels: family, life, me, motherhood

2:05 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

I so wanted a nap today. A lazy, late afternoon nap next to the kiddo and husband who had returned from a trip over the weekend. And because I was tired. Bone tired. It's Monday and I hadn't slept well in the husbands absence with a sick kid. I wasn't blessed enough by the Nap Lords.

At 4:30pm when they both were fast into nap land (albeit, very late for a nap, but who was I to complain when I desperately wanted one. Even if it was 5ish) I longed to feel the kicking feet of a toddler in my ribs. But, Ah, no. The lovely part of working from home. You watch others do the at-home thing, while you do the at-work thing.

At 5:30 ? Well they were still asleep... and I was still working.

And when I closed shop near 6, I snuck into the bedroom, blanket cuddled around my shoulders hoping to get only 6 minutes of shut-eye and I was greeted with, "Hi Mom!" Uncontrollable giggles, "How come you didn't snuggle?"

Labels: life, motherhood, parenting, working

8:10 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Did you know it is my imaginary birthday today? It has come complete with top hats, magic wands, decorations of matchbox cars and stuffed animals adorning the great room, and even a pretend pinatas stuffed with more toys!

Oh, and how can I forget the Happy Birthday serenade sung by the kiddo while being presented with a birthday cake (flavor: French Fries and corn). And a present. A box--yep you guessed it--with even more toys.

I'm one lucky gal.

Update: He even surprised me with some more gifts. And these homeade books--4 to be exact--were each made from tabloid paper. Folded in half. Some just "drawing" books (as he calls them) and others were made with letters (which for just-turned-four-years-old, were quite accurate). The stories (DIFFERENT FACES, A BOOK OF DINASOURS, THE FISH FEEDING BOOK, and GRUMPY PEOPLE) need to be framed. Or kept forever. This kid breaks (and swells) my heart all at once. I want to freeze this moment forever.

Labels: family, kid, motherhood

12:50 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Honestly, I don't know what I did to deserve days of nut-ball issues and a housing adventure that just doesn't end (that would be the selling and buying thing. And unpaid back tax bills). It was like all hope of Monday being pleasant came pounding through the sky in a bolt of lightening to spear me through the heart to taunt me. Or at least jeer me into a early morning conference call, that ended so quickly I was mistakenly disallusioned the day might get better. That is until I set a goal to finish my latest project deadline.

But, hey, enough about work. I might get fired (note timestamp, Internets. It is after-hours. Thankyouverymuch). Not that you find the work stuff that interesting-- no one does. I'm a technical writer. There isn't anything too exciting about that. No matter what way I spin it.

The other part of my angst comes from home upheaval. Aside from moving my ass north a few 30 miles, packing all my belongings, and belaboring the point that I am paying on two mortgages--I am again a stay-at-home-working mom three days a week. Yes, that means, the kiddo--all four years of him--is with me full time three days a week to keep me distracted from the day job. Err, I mean, quietly playing at the kitchen table while I am pining away at my deadlines.

At first I thought this little shift back to the good ole days would be welcome. I'd get to take little excursions to the grocery store, Target, and when the weather breaks a bit build a snowman (or watch from the window). Hell, I daydreamed about getting back to homelife a bit. I'm not too womanly to admit that jumping back into full time work guns a blaring was fine (even glorious) at first. Then, I got homesick (or kid-sick).

But, now, I'm groveling. I'm part-time mom worker and I'm not liking being back at home with the kid. Sure, I love not missing a beat with him--knowing he took his nap and ate his lunch. But having to occupy him all day? I'd rather be at the office.

Sure, I'm exhaggerating some, as it is my blog and I have a right, but the differences from a 2 year old (as he was the first time around when I worked from home) and a 4 year old are tremendous.

First, he can talk a lot. From great big long sentences that entertwine, require me to think of appropriate responses, and almost always request some form of my attention to the fact that he he is independent can make for a bit of a challenging day. The whole I-can-dress-myself-Mom part is wonderful (who would have thought that that the kid can match a Spiderman T-shirt and Superman pants that actually match and are adequately warm for a gusty winter day in Chicagoland). But this is what is killing me--"Mom? What are we going to do today?"

The question seems simple enough--eat breakfast, brush teeth, get dressed, play, watch a bit of television. But then the inevitable happens. The question that has me running haywire through each and every room of my house, "What's next?"

And as every good 4 year old does, he holds me to it--no matter WHAT I tell him. Want to color? Sure, then right after we watch Go Diego Go! we sure as hell better break out the crayons and tablet of paper or hell will break loose. Did I say we might build a Lego bridge? Oh, pardon me for having to take a call from work--or say finish eating my own lunch before 3 in the afternoon.

Two short years ago, I thought I was juggling too much--motherhood, working from home full time, a husband who worked long hours, a wild terror of a dog, two cats (one quite sickly), and a two year old. But the thing is, I had no idea what it was like to do all of the above (without the sick cat. she pulled through), with a four year old. Sure he can take care of himself a bit but when do the universal pointed finger to lips to be quiet sign he's learned it doesn't mean a damn thing. Even when I am mid-sentence with a Vice President of something or other.

Labels: family, kid, motherhood, working, writing life

4:27 PM | Permalink | 0 comments