Whether you stay at home, work part-time, or have a full-time career outside of the home, we all sometimes wonder, "What if..." or "Am I doing this thing as well as I can...".
I have been at home for 8 years. I don't take a lot of offense to the questions I am asked or the implications sometimes made by moms who have never stayed at home with their kids beyond maternity leave. Some of that could be because, as I've said a million times before, this wasn't the plan for me. It just sort of happened. And I was grateful it did. But I know I sometimes have questions as to how it works to juggle a career with a husband and kids and all the nitty-gritty details we moms tend to take charge of.
I don't find curiosity condescending or belittling. I think it's natural.
I didn't know any stay-at-home moms growing up. My own mom worked multiple jobs. She made 3 meals a day for 4 people. She grocery shopped. She did all of our laundry and ironing. She paid all of the bills. She pretty much did everything. And she managed to go on field trips with me. Take us to Six Flags over the summer. She never missed a doctor or dentist appointment, etc, etc, etc, etc.
I know that was hard on her. She didn't have an extensive support system, other than my dad, because she had a large family and she liked to help everyone else out instead.
My sister is a kick-ass surgical nurse and an even more unbelievable single mother. She is amazing at both. I am often in awe of her and feel like I have it easy getting to stay at home.
I didn't have any stay-at-home mom role models. I didn't know what it should entail and how it should be done. I often tried to over compensate and take on way too much to prove what I was doing had value.
Hence my revelation that Yahoo! Parenting or Huffington Post articles aside, I truly believe most of today's mommy wars are actually an internal struggle. Should I go back to work? Will my kids think I am lazy and not see the contributions I actually make if I don't have a paycheck coming in? Will I be a good enough role model for my daughter's career aspirations/college plans, etc? Should I stay at home? Will my kids think I don't spend enough time with them if I continue to move up the ladder? And so it goes on and on.
For me, I don't judge anyone else's decision on how to parent, earn money, spend money, educate their children, discipline their children, feed their children, dress them, etc... because I am too busy trying to figure out what is best for my own family. Most of the other moms I know are in the same boat. We are all just trying to be the best WE can be and that has very little to do with what anyone else is doing.
But I do think if you breastfeed or bottlefeed you wonder if you're doing what's best. If you are a helicopter parent or a free range parent you wonder which is best. If you choose public school or boarding school in Switzerland (ok, I am being funny) you wonder .. And I feel like wondering is the most natural thing in the world. It isn't judgement. It might be a little based in fear or self-doubt and insecurity but I truly do believe that is more a reflection on how we judge ourselves than what we are thinking of others.
Ideas, ideologies & idiosyncratic behavior from this side of motherhood.
25 January 2015
25 November 2014
We are Ferguson
The morning after.
We won't see me taking sides from that day on August 9th. I wasn't there and I could never possibly understand the scope and depth of all that happened in a very short period of time.
I am not a black man coming of age in America. I am not a first responder putting myself on the line day in and day out. But I have made bad choices. Choices that have gone against my own true self and morality. Choices that have gone against how I was raised.
So let us not cast a stone in the direction of parenting for either of the boys involved. There but for the Grace of God go I.
And it seems like that day is full of just that, bad choices. I cannot find a side to choose because no one has won here. Not a single person. Not any of the Browns, not officer Wilson, not Ferguson, not you, not me. There shouldn't be any sides.
Without a greater understanding of our neighbors' frustration and without a willingness to love, respect, listen and bridge the gap, we are all losers.
I know social media has also shown me some very ugly sides to people I thought I respected, what a shame. And many people have done a disservice in how they have represented themselves, again a loss.
And nothing has changed. No answers have been given. I am not disappointed in the due process that Officer Wilson has received nor do I contest the outcome of the grand jury's decision. I am grateful it was not in my own hands to do so.
But I do feel for a mother's loss when all people want to say is that "he brought it on himself". He made mistakes but he was the child she cradled in her arms and kissed goodnight. And for those of you who believe that a poor mother or a mother of any other color of skin or ethnic background loves their child less than you love yours- shame on you. Therein lies the problem.
We are more than the color of our skin. We are more than our bank accounts, our zip codes, or any outside factor. We are the sum or all our parts and not just one single day of our lives. There is no hero and there is no villian and for those of you looking to simplify it with an us against them, you are perpetuating this and missing the point. WE ARE THEM AND THEY ARE US.
If I have to choose a side in light of the dawn of a new day, I would choose our children. I would choose creating a better, more capable environment for them. I would choose a society where all our children are better served, better educated, better heard, safer.
There are enough external forces waiting to tear us apart, why are we doing the work for them?
Wishing everyone a safe, peaceful and loving Thanksgiving.
We won't see me taking sides from that day on August 9th. I wasn't there and I could never possibly understand the scope and depth of all that happened in a very short period of time.
I am not a black man coming of age in America. I am not a first responder putting myself on the line day in and day out. But I have made bad choices. Choices that have gone against my own true self and morality. Choices that have gone against how I was raised.
So let us not cast a stone in the direction of parenting for either of the boys involved. There but for the Grace of God go I.
And it seems like that day is full of just that, bad choices. I cannot find a side to choose because no one has won here. Not a single person. Not any of the Browns, not officer Wilson, not Ferguson, not you, not me. There shouldn't be any sides.
Without a greater understanding of our neighbors' frustration and without a willingness to love, respect, listen and bridge the gap, we are all losers.
I know social media has also shown me some very ugly sides to people I thought I respected, what a shame. And many people have done a disservice in how they have represented themselves, again a loss.
And nothing has changed. No answers have been given. I am not disappointed in the due process that Officer Wilson has received nor do I contest the outcome of the grand jury's decision. I am grateful it was not in my own hands to do so.
But I do feel for a mother's loss when all people want to say is that "he brought it on himself". He made mistakes but he was the child she cradled in her arms and kissed goodnight. And for those of you who believe that a poor mother or a mother of any other color of skin or ethnic background loves their child less than you love yours- shame on you. Therein lies the problem.
We are more than the color of our skin. We are more than our bank accounts, our zip codes, or any outside factor. We are the sum or all our parts and not just one single day of our lives. There is no hero and there is no villian and for those of you looking to simplify it with an us against them, you are perpetuating this and missing the point. WE ARE THEM AND THEY ARE US.
If I have to choose a side in light of the dawn of a new day, I would choose our children. I would choose creating a better, more capable environment for them. I would choose a society where all our children are better served, better educated, better heard, safer.
There are enough external forces waiting to tear us apart, why are we doing the work for them?
Wishing everyone a safe, peaceful and loving Thanksgiving.
28 August 2014
Material Girl
I have one child that almost stresses out around Christmas or her birthday. I feel like it is my disapproval of materialism that has given her this anxiety. But if I really watch and scrutinize the situation she is a person who has never relied much on toys or outside influences when it came to imagination and play. Which is odd because our house is over-filled with stuff somehow that is supposed to fulfill just this purpose.
My youngest, however, likes to have stuff about him. He is extremely imaginative and I think he creates entire worlds and uses his toys to re-create his imaginary world. What may look like an angry birds play set to you has somehow, in his mind, been transformed in a galatic battle sub-station for his astro-engineers out on a space mission to save their flying headquarters before it is too late. He doesn't mind the junk or the disorganization.
My daughter doesn't like to think about getting rid of things when they out grow their purpose either. Every stuffed animal is special and because it was a gift from someone it has sentimental value. But she gets nervous at the build up in her room. This is a kid whose birthday was two weeks ago and she still hasn't opened several of her presents.
I have begun giving her the gift of experiences vs. stuff. A date with mom, concert tickets, an evening of baking. I have even gotten her a new desk to help her keep organized. She is also getting to the age where cute stuff like earring holders or shelves are starting to interest her. Or a great pair of pajamas. Or a unique hat and glove set.
What's my point? How do you discourage people from offering your children yet more stuff? My husband's family places a lot of importance on the Christmastime and birthday presents. I have mentioned many times the kids don't need anything else but I don't want to be ungrateful or disrespectful. When I've asked for donations in lieu of gifts I was met with, "Well, we donated but we're gonna do what we want as far as gifts are concerned."
I love the thought of a book, a toy, a piece of clothing, and maybe a sentimental item at Christmas. Growing up we got everything we wanted but our focus was on service and the religious celebration of the season so the toys were not even secondary for us. Not because we didn't enjoy that aspect or because my parents skimped (my mom had a Christmas saver fund she started saving money in January 1 of each year to provide what I would've considered lavish Christmases for us as kids. Until I met my husband), but because my parents focus was never on what they were giving us.
I have tried to pass that along and I think my daughter gets it. Well, she gets it and she doesn't really care about too many toys. She's never been into dolls but you could always get her to see your side over a cute handbag. She rarely plays with Barbies but show her a set of lip glosses and she has a sparkle in her eyes. So she is not without her material desires. But her desires are small, like mine. Realistic. I see her feel like she has to pick big stuff for her lists. Stuff that never makes it out of the box but she felt compelled to give her grandparents some great ideas of what to get her. Every year I give her a journal for almost any occasion. She has so many you'd think she'd be tired of them. Nope. This year for her birthday it was one of the gifts she liked the most. Simple. Inexpensive. Useful.
And what is wrong with that as a gift? Not elaborate. Not super consumerism oriented. Not flashy. Just something she loves and will use?
Again, I ask, how do we stop the outside force of consumerism in our children's lives all while keeping peace with non-blood relatives? Don't get me wrong, if my chilren stopped receiving toys today they still would have 3 rooms full of them plus electronics in the den. They are not at a loss here people! But I would like to maintain some realistic perspective and teach my kids what our family values are without being undermined. Is that truly so terrible? But I know I will not be heard and I find it easier not to raise a fuss and then that makes me feel like a failure as a mother.
When combining values from your family of origin with your immediate family's it can be difficult and confusing and take a really long time to set out. In the end, I remind myself there is no right answer and my children's values come from the example I set, the way I show them to live, and not from something under a shiny, red bow.
My youngest, however, likes to have stuff about him. He is extremely imaginative and I think he creates entire worlds and uses his toys to re-create his imaginary world. What may look like an angry birds play set to you has somehow, in his mind, been transformed in a galatic battle sub-station for his astro-engineers out on a space mission to save their flying headquarters before it is too late. He doesn't mind the junk or the disorganization.
My daughter doesn't like to think about getting rid of things when they out grow their purpose either. Every stuffed animal is special and because it was a gift from someone it has sentimental value. But she gets nervous at the build up in her room. This is a kid whose birthday was two weeks ago and she still hasn't opened several of her presents.
I have begun giving her the gift of experiences vs. stuff. A date with mom, concert tickets, an evening of baking. I have even gotten her a new desk to help her keep organized. She is also getting to the age where cute stuff like earring holders or shelves are starting to interest her. Or a great pair of pajamas. Or a unique hat and glove set.
What's my point? How do you discourage people from offering your children yet more stuff? My husband's family places a lot of importance on the Christmastime and birthday presents. I have mentioned many times the kids don't need anything else but I don't want to be ungrateful or disrespectful. When I've asked for donations in lieu of gifts I was met with, "Well, we donated but we're gonna do what we want as far as gifts are concerned."
I love the thought of a book, a toy, a piece of clothing, and maybe a sentimental item at Christmas. Growing up we got everything we wanted but our focus was on service and the religious celebration of the season so the toys were not even secondary for us. Not because we didn't enjoy that aspect or because my parents skimped (my mom had a Christmas saver fund she started saving money in January 1 of each year to provide what I would've considered lavish Christmases for us as kids. Until I met my husband), but because my parents focus was never on what they were giving us.
I have tried to pass that along and I think my daughter gets it. Well, she gets it and she doesn't really care about too many toys. She's never been into dolls but you could always get her to see your side over a cute handbag. She rarely plays with Barbies but show her a set of lip glosses and she has a sparkle in her eyes. So she is not without her material desires. But her desires are small, like mine. Realistic. I see her feel like she has to pick big stuff for her lists. Stuff that never makes it out of the box but she felt compelled to give her grandparents some great ideas of what to get her. Every year I give her a journal for almost any occasion. She has so many you'd think she'd be tired of them. Nope. This year for her birthday it was one of the gifts she liked the most. Simple. Inexpensive. Useful.
And what is wrong with that as a gift? Not elaborate. Not super consumerism oriented. Not flashy. Just something she loves and will use?
Again, I ask, how do we stop the outside force of consumerism in our children's lives all while keeping peace with non-blood relatives? Don't get me wrong, if my chilren stopped receiving toys today they still would have 3 rooms full of them plus electronics in the den. They are not at a loss here people! But I would like to maintain some realistic perspective and teach my kids what our family values are without being undermined. Is that truly so terrible? But I know I will not be heard and I find it easier not to raise a fuss and then that makes me feel like a failure as a mother.
When combining values from your family of origin with your immediate family's it can be difficult and confusing and take a really long time to set out. In the end, I remind myself there is no right answer and my children's values come from the example I set, the way I show them to live, and not from something under a shiny, red bow.
21 July 2014
Puppenstein
I had felt love before but never complete and total trust and partnership. Not until I met Ely McGee. He was about 9lbs at the time. He had red hair, an interest in all things trash, and four legs. I had this beautiful boy for nearly 15 years. We overcame so much together. Virtual self-inflicted homelessness, my father's death, his own cancer (twice), near loss of his front leg, marriage, and finally two children.
It brings me joy to know that he made such a great impact on my two-legged babies. Despite having only been in their lives for 2.5 and 4 years, they remember him as well as anyone can for that age. My son had a particular attachment to Ely. The day we asked the vet to assist us in helping him move on because he had torn his heartvalve and breathing was no longer a simple task, I worried most about my 2.5 year old son. Nevermind that my biggest fear for the past decade and a half was coming to fruition, I could find a way to rationalize emotionally what was happening but my son, he didn't have those coping mechanisms yet.
Thanks to our warm and wonderful vet and his kind and caring staff, we were well cared for and in every aspect they made sure to gently guide us through making those moments as painless and peaceful as could be asked for.
We left our Schmoop there so we could make arrangements to bury on a piece of my husband's family's property 3 hours away that we refer to as "The Farm". When we returned to get our boy we shielded the kids from knowing he was wrapped up and tucked away in our makeshift, animal proof "casket".
The following days my husband found himself unable to sleep without letting Ely out, turning off the lights and the two of them setting the alarm and walking up the stairs together. He began scouring PetFinder and other sites for a German Short Haired Pointer or Doberman mix. Our boy Ely had been a love child between two purebreds and he made such a wonderful member of the family. I guess my husband thought perhaps he could recreate Schmoop's intelligence, independence, and loyalty if he picked the same breeds.
A few days after his passing I determined I needed several months to cope with my growing grief. I needed a break to heal. I didn't want to deal with potty training a puppy or all the training that goes into caring for a young dog. Ely was one of the most intelligent animals I had ever met. He knew more words than I could track and he fit into the rhythm of our life. He never did outgrow the trash eating part though.
Hardly seven days had passed when my husband called me and asked me to look at an email he sent me. There was a 15month old German Shorthaired puppy named Rambo for adoption at our local Humane Society. I stalled a day or two hoping the dog would be adopted or my husband would forget about the small black haired, sad eyed boy with the white speckled chest like our Schmoop. But he didn't forget. And he still couldn't sleep. I realized my husband had been with Ely for only about 9 months less than I had. He needed to be able to grieve in his way too.
So the next day I took the kids to meet Rambo. As we sat in the puppy visiting room I was struck by what a happy, friendly little creature he was and I laughed. This very thing, his lack of intimidation, must have been exactly why "Rambo" was given back to the Humane Society a second time. So on September 28, 2010 we adopted him.
I asked my kids for help in naming our new doggy. My son adamantly insisted that his dog was still at the vet's office and he wanted to go back. So poor Rambo's name was almost changed to "This isn't my dog". My daughter was sure they had meant to name him Rainbow instead. But finally after a little debate between Luigi and some other cartoon like names they decided upon Levi Cash (after the man in black).
Levi's paperwork was pretty standard, however, I noticed some missing months in his history and then an oddly descriptive reason for return from his previous owners. It seems as if our boy had been adopted as a small pup, given back at 7 months, adopted again 2 months later only to be returned within 3 months. By the time we had gotten him at 15 months old he was quite unsocialized and had spent most of his life confined in some way or another. His second owners had admitted to returning him because, among other reasons (like he barked at the vacuum and wasn't great on a leash - still isn't awesome on either of those accounts) he was left in a powder room daily and damaged the door frame. Hmm, wonder why? So our totally goofy pup wasn't sure what to do with his new found freedom.
This led to a few rather expensive problems. Puppenstein managed to get happy tail hitting the tip of his tail on the door frame everytime he pushed through to get out. The sore couldn't be fixed after several months of trying and now instead of the long tail he once had, there is a little nub. I felt like I had broken the poor animal.
No sooner than the idiot healed from that surgery then he tried to climb the fence for a squirrel and wrecked his ACL/MCL and had to have surgery yet again. Six months and $4,000 later if I was unsure of this dog before I knew we were in it for the long haul now. I am not sure anyone else would've had the patience with this little dynamo.
We have worked with personal trainers for his separation anxiety and he still lacks manners severly, but he has become an important part of all of our lives. He loves us all beyond measure and his joy is infectious. My husband said it perfectly, "I'm not sure if he was the perfect dog for us but I am sure we were the right family for him". Happy 5th birthday Levi.
It brings me joy to know that he made such a great impact on my two-legged babies. Despite having only been in their lives for 2.5 and 4 years, they remember him as well as anyone can for that age. My son had a particular attachment to Ely. The day we asked the vet to assist us in helping him move on because he had torn his heartvalve and breathing was no longer a simple task, I worried most about my 2.5 year old son. Nevermind that my biggest fear for the past decade and a half was coming to fruition, I could find a way to rationalize emotionally what was happening but my son, he didn't have those coping mechanisms yet.
Thanks to our warm and wonderful vet and his kind and caring staff, we were well cared for and in every aspect they made sure to gently guide us through making those moments as painless and peaceful as could be asked for.
We left our Schmoop there so we could make arrangements to bury on a piece of my husband's family's property 3 hours away that we refer to as "The Farm". When we returned to get our boy we shielded the kids from knowing he was wrapped up and tucked away in our makeshift, animal proof "casket".
The following days my husband found himself unable to sleep without letting Ely out, turning off the lights and the two of them setting the alarm and walking up the stairs together. He began scouring PetFinder and other sites for a German Short Haired Pointer or Doberman mix. Our boy Ely had been a love child between two purebreds and he made such a wonderful member of the family. I guess my husband thought perhaps he could recreate Schmoop's intelligence, independence, and loyalty if he picked the same breeds.
A few days after his passing I determined I needed several months to cope with my growing grief. I needed a break to heal. I didn't want to deal with potty training a puppy or all the training that goes into caring for a young dog. Ely was one of the most intelligent animals I had ever met. He knew more words than I could track and he fit into the rhythm of our life. He never did outgrow the trash eating part though.
Hardly seven days had passed when my husband called me and asked me to look at an email he sent me. There was a 15month old German Shorthaired puppy named Rambo for adoption at our local Humane Society. I stalled a day or two hoping the dog would be adopted or my husband would forget about the small black haired, sad eyed boy with the white speckled chest like our Schmoop. But he didn't forget. And he still couldn't sleep. I realized my husband had been with Ely for only about 9 months less than I had. He needed to be able to grieve in his way too.
So the next day I took the kids to meet Rambo. As we sat in the puppy visiting room I was struck by what a happy, friendly little creature he was and I laughed. This very thing, his lack of intimidation, must have been exactly why "Rambo" was given back to the Humane Society a second time. So on September 28, 2010 we adopted him.
I asked my kids for help in naming our new doggy. My son adamantly insisted that his dog was still at the vet's office and he wanted to go back. So poor Rambo's name was almost changed to "This isn't my dog". My daughter was sure they had meant to name him Rainbow instead. But finally after a little debate between Luigi and some other cartoon like names they decided upon Levi Cash (after the man in black).
Levi's paperwork was pretty standard, however, I noticed some missing months in his history and then an oddly descriptive reason for return from his previous owners. It seems as if our boy had been adopted as a small pup, given back at 7 months, adopted again 2 months later only to be returned within 3 months. By the time we had gotten him at 15 months old he was quite unsocialized and had spent most of his life confined in some way or another. His second owners had admitted to returning him because, among other reasons (like he barked at the vacuum and wasn't great on a leash - still isn't awesome on either of those accounts) he was left in a powder room daily and damaged the door frame. Hmm, wonder why? So our totally goofy pup wasn't sure what to do with his new found freedom.
This led to a few rather expensive problems. Puppenstein managed to get happy tail hitting the tip of his tail on the door frame everytime he pushed through to get out. The sore couldn't be fixed after several months of trying and now instead of the long tail he once had, there is a little nub. I felt like I had broken the poor animal.
No sooner than the idiot healed from that surgery then he tried to climb the fence for a squirrel and wrecked his ACL/MCL and had to have surgery yet again. Six months and $4,000 later if I was unsure of this dog before I knew we were in it for the long haul now. I am not sure anyone else would've had the patience with this little dynamo.
We have worked with personal trainers for his separation anxiety and he still lacks manners severly, but he has become an important part of all of our lives. He loves us all beyond measure and his joy is infectious. My husband said it perfectly, "I'm not sure if he was the perfect dog for us but I am sure we were the right family for him". Happy 5th birthday Levi.
07 July 2014
Baby On Board
I don't tend to like pictures of myself. At all. It's been this way a third of my life. I wish I had a greater reason than vanity to cite but I truly don't. So while I was pregnant, needless to say, I didn't like having pictures taken of me. Yes, the usual egotism was a culprit then too but there were several other reasons I didn't jump on the pregnancy photo shoot bandwagon.
Firstly, allow me to point out that I am definitely not a Millenial. I am way too old, by 10 years, not to mention Millennials are defined as having traits of confidence and tolerance, but also a sense of entitlement and narcissism. Personality surveys of GenerationMe have shown increasing narcissism among Millennials compared to preceding generations, when they were teens and in their twenties. So it makes way more sense that women in that age range would want to have photographic documentation of every step of their unique and awe-filled journey.
I, however, usually choose words as my way of expressing myself, most typically the written word. No surprise I chose to journal my experiences in letters to my children and personal notes to my husband and myself. The closer I came to my due date the more I just wanted to stay in with my husband and prepare ourselves, our microcosm, for the impending terminal changes that were headed our way. It wasn't because I was anti-social necessarily, although at the time I thought that was exactly why. It was more because this experience was happening to me and my husband and no one else. Sure, billions of babies have been born making there billions of mommies and daddies out there. But we had never done this and we only had one another to go through this experience with. It became sacred to me, intimate, special beyond description. I didn't want to share it with anyone else.
I felt the same way for the first year of my daughter's life. I didn't want the outside world to burst through our little bubble. She fit in so very perfectly with the two of us that it seemed as if it had always been the three of us. This was so true that I wept for her when I found out near her first birthday that she would have to share us at just 19 months old. Happily I had the same experience of feeling my second pregnancy was a miracle and a wonder and my anticipation to meet my son was just as great as it had been with my daughter. And our cocoon grew big enough to accommodate all four of us. But I still didn't want to share it with anyone else. I wanted to keep it as simple and intimate as I could for as long as I could.
When the day came for my daughter to start preschool, I struggled with the milestone. I still struggle on the first day of anything that removes them that much further from the little Utopia we had when they were babies and toddlers and we spent all of our time together in our own world. I never begrudge them stepping out into the world and asserting their independence, it is hard after all to make a great impact if you spend your life in a vacuum. Silently though, I am a little crushed each time because I know they are one step closer to first failures, disappointments, and heartbreaks. I also know that are that much closer to first major achievements, successes, and love which makes them one step closer to being an adult. Unlike when they were little and I could scoop them up and make everything all better, they start down a path where I cannot protect them from all in life.
At the end of the day I may not have a ton of pictures of my belly when I was pregnant (or any) but I I do remember every detail of both of my kids from the second I knew they were coming into the world and there is something pretty fantastic about selfishly hoarding those memories all to myself.
Firstly, allow me to point out that I am definitely not a Millenial. I am way too old, by 10 years, not to mention Millennials are defined as having traits of confidence and tolerance, but also a sense of entitlement and narcissism. Personality surveys of GenerationMe have shown increasing narcissism among Millennials compared to preceding generations, when they were teens and in their twenties. So it makes way more sense that women in that age range would want to have photographic documentation of every step of their unique and awe-filled journey.
I, however, usually choose words as my way of expressing myself, most typically the written word. No surprise I chose to journal my experiences in letters to my children and personal notes to my husband and myself. The closer I came to my due date the more I just wanted to stay in with my husband and prepare ourselves, our microcosm, for the impending terminal changes that were headed our way. It wasn't because I was anti-social necessarily, although at the time I thought that was exactly why. It was more because this experience was happening to me and my husband and no one else. Sure, billions of babies have been born making there billions of mommies and daddies out there. But we had never done this and we only had one another to go through this experience with. It became sacred to me, intimate, special beyond description. I didn't want to share it with anyone else.
I felt the same way for the first year of my daughter's life. I didn't want the outside world to burst through our little bubble. She fit in so very perfectly with the two of us that it seemed as if it had always been the three of us. This was so true that I wept for her when I found out near her first birthday that she would have to share us at just 19 months old. Happily I had the same experience of feeling my second pregnancy was a miracle and a wonder and my anticipation to meet my son was just as great as it had been with my daughter. And our cocoon grew big enough to accommodate all four of us. But I still didn't want to share it with anyone else. I wanted to keep it as simple and intimate as I could for as long as I could.
When the day came for my daughter to start preschool, I struggled with the milestone. I still struggle on the first day of anything that removes them that much further from the little Utopia we had when they were babies and toddlers and we spent all of our time together in our own world. I never begrudge them stepping out into the world and asserting their independence, it is hard after all to make a great impact if you spend your life in a vacuum. Silently though, I am a little crushed each time because I know they are one step closer to first failures, disappointments, and heartbreaks. I also know that are that much closer to first major achievements, successes, and love which makes them one step closer to being an adult. Unlike when they were little and I could scoop them up and make everything all better, they start down a path where I cannot protect them from all in life.
At the end of the day I may not have a ton of pictures of my belly when I was pregnant (or any) but I I do remember every detail of both of my kids from the second I knew they were coming into the world and there is something pretty fantastic about selfishly hoarding those memories all to myself.
06 July 2014
Do what you love, even if there is no money to follow- Staying home vs. going back to work (for me)
I don't have a sponsored blog. I don't have a youtube channel demonstrating freshly prepared, organic meals I have created from my garden out back. I don't have pictures hung on the wall, or very organized closets. My house isn't usually as clean as I would like. I am not usually as put together or as thin or as energetic as I would like. I am not particularly great at keeping a budget either these days. There is no craft room in my house. I don't hand sew my kids' clothes or bake homemade bread. And I am a stay-at-home-mom.
I think there is a common misperception that stay-at-home moms have extra time in their day or extra energy. I can assure you, that isn't the case. I know lots of my workforce friends think they would be overly organized, aerobicized, and have it all together if they had the same amount of time that a SAHM does.
This past year I have researched heading back into careerland after an eight year hiatus. I have been weighing the pros and cons of going back. When sharing this with my kids and my niece and nephew (who I no longer have in my care after school or daily during the summers), no one liked the idea. At all. I had a little non-violent coup on my hands. No one was happy and everyone freely offered up exactly why they felt it was such a terrible idea. Even my husband chimed in with his reluctance to support my effort. Of course he brought up the most thought provoking point that made me reconsider what I wanted to do and why. He told me that they would support me 100% if this was something I truly wanted and needed to do for myself.
I contacted my former mentor. I had a few people contact me in relation to future work. And I sat and thought about if I did really want this and if so, why?
The truth is my youngest is going to school full time next month. And for the past year people have started asking me if I was going back to work when that happened. I hadn't really planned to but I kept being asked over and over again so I began considering it. Yet after searching my soul I like what I do now more than I have ever liked any part of anything I have done outside of the home.
I have exquisite children. They are beautiful inside and out. They are creative, happy, talented, funny, smart, interesting. I love being around them. We have our own little world together. I have only about 10 years left with this. If the first 8 years flew by this fast, these next 10 cannot possibly somehow slow down so it is all going to go by in a blink.
At the beginning I mentioned all the things I didn't have or didn't do. But I do have a beautiful house with lots of space inside and out for my kids to roam and play and create. I have two of the healthiest, happiest kids on the planet. They are best friends and constant companions. They never miss a doctor, dentist, or orthodontist appointment. They are both involved in competitive hip hop dance, STEM activities, and sports. They play instruments. I am the Girl Scout Troop leader. We go on lots of adventures taking advantage of all our city has to offer. My children are well traveled. They are thinkers. They consider what consequences their actions have on others. This has begun them thinking locally and globally. My daughter has been on a crusade for the past 3 years to help support the Ronald McDonald House. And my son has been planning a way for the past 6 months to start helping local food banks have the ability to share fresh foods with their recipients (he was 5 when he wrote his first email asking for help).
There are lots of kids of working parents who are out there making a great impact and achieving their goals on every level. But selfishly I want to be there with my kids, watching, helping, facilitating. And I am quite sure we could get done what we get done if I got a job. Heck, I might even be better at time management. When I think about why I have begun considering going back to work it is simply because of societal expectation and not out of desire. So does this make me lack ambition? I don't think so but I believe many others would.
As my kids have gotten older I have learned to do more things for myself. I am training for a half-marathon and completed one this past fall as well. I have been writing a series of children's books which I am in love with doing. I am considering taking some classes in the future while my kids are both in school. But mostly I love the thought of getting to be in the lunchroom volunteering while they are in school. I like getting to go to the classroom parties, every field trip, not have to coordinate anything if someone is sent home sick from school. I like dropping off and picking up from school daily. Because that IS my job. And I really like what I do.
I think there is a common misperception that stay-at-home moms have extra time in their day or extra energy. I can assure you, that isn't the case. I know lots of my workforce friends think they would be overly organized, aerobicized, and have it all together if they had the same amount of time that a SAHM does.
This past year I have researched heading back into careerland after an eight year hiatus. I have been weighing the pros and cons of going back. When sharing this with my kids and my niece and nephew (who I no longer have in my care after school or daily during the summers), no one liked the idea. At all. I had a little non-violent coup on my hands. No one was happy and everyone freely offered up exactly why they felt it was such a terrible idea. Even my husband chimed in with his reluctance to support my effort. Of course he brought up the most thought provoking point that made me reconsider what I wanted to do and why. He told me that they would support me 100% if this was something I truly wanted and needed to do for myself.
I contacted my former mentor. I had a few people contact me in relation to future work. And I sat and thought about if I did really want this and if so, why?
The truth is my youngest is going to school full time next month. And for the past year people have started asking me if I was going back to work when that happened. I hadn't really planned to but I kept being asked over and over again so I began considering it. Yet after searching my soul I like what I do now more than I have ever liked any part of anything I have done outside of the home.
I have exquisite children. They are beautiful inside and out. They are creative, happy, talented, funny, smart, interesting. I love being around them. We have our own little world together. I have only about 10 years left with this. If the first 8 years flew by this fast, these next 10 cannot possibly somehow slow down so it is all going to go by in a blink.
At the beginning I mentioned all the things I didn't have or didn't do. But I do have a beautiful house with lots of space inside and out for my kids to roam and play and create. I have two of the healthiest, happiest kids on the planet. They are best friends and constant companions. They never miss a doctor, dentist, or orthodontist appointment. They are both involved in competitive hip hop dance, STEM activities, and sports. They play instruments. I am the Girl Scout Troop leader. We go on lots of adventures taking advantage of all our city has to offer. My children are well traveled. They are thinkers. They consider what consequences their actions have on others. This has begun them thinking locally and globally. My daughter has been on a crusade for the past 3 years to help support the Ronald McDonald House. And my son has been planning a way for the past 6 months to start helping local food banks have the ability to share fresh foods with their recipients (he was 5 when he wrote his first email asking for help).
There are lots of kids of working parents who are out there making a great impact and achieving their goals on every level. But selfishly I want to be there with my kids, watching, helping, facilitating. And I am quite sure we could get done what we get done if I got a job. Heck, I might even be better at time management. When I think about why I have begun considering going back to work it is simply because of societal expectation and not out of desire. So does this make me lack ambition? I don't think so but I believe many others would.
As my kids have gotten older I have learned to do more things for myself. I am training for a half-marathon and completed one this past fall as well. I have been writing a series of children's books which I am in love with doing. I am considering taking some classes in the future while my kids are both in school. But mostly I love the thought of getting to be in the lunchroom volunteering while they are in school. I like getting to go to the classroom parties, every field trip, not have to coordinate anything if someone is sent home sick from school. I like dropping off and picking up from school daily. Because that IS my job. And I really like what I do.
20 June 2014
The Most Magical Place on Earth
Hard to believe that I haven't written a single post about Disney traveling let alone an entire blog on it. I have and could still spend hours upon hours reading about visiting Walt Disney World and planning to go to Orlando again.
My first visit was at 28 years old (almost 29) in 2002. It was sort of a graduation present from college to myself (yep, in only 10 years I got a bachelor's!). I went with my then boyfriend, now husband, who had been there twice before. It was only a month after graduation and three months after my father's death. Maybe that's why I finally understood people's obsession with the place, because it was a very welcomed distraction from an extremely difficult time in my life.
Fast forward seven years. We now have a niece who is 8, a nephew turning 7, a 3 year old daughter and a 17 month old son. We had been waiting and waiting for everyone to get "old enough" to go. I think I was the one who grew most tired of waiting. I knew my niece was outgrowing girly stuff and had a maturity about her that went far beyond her years. It felt like reason would get to her sooner rather than later if we didn't go while she still had a childlike bewilderment about her.
So despite the 1,000s of nasty comments about how my son (17 months) will never remember his first trip to Disney and what a horrible nightmare it sounded like to take two toddlers, we were off. Mommy, Daddy, 3yo girl, 17mo boy. We were joined by my sis and my mom with my sister's two "older" children".
I did a TON of research. And because we thought we were taking this trip 2 or 3 years before (darn, I just kept getting pregnant and postponing it for my poor niece and nephew) we were able to save up. These things, coupled with traveling at an off season period, and a free dining offer, allowed us the opportunity to stay at the Grand Floridian. It was also my mom's first trip and boy, did we spoil her there! Everyone loved our connecting rooms and the gorgeous decor of the resort. The pools were excellent, food was great, we could see fireworks on the lagoon at night as well as the electrical water pageant but the greatest contributing factor for us in choosing GF was that it was on the monorail. And because we were there in September the crowds and weather were much more tolerable as well.
Having the two toddlers meant having two umbrella strollers and two backpacks. It also meant adhering to our regularly scheduled programming as far as potty breaks, snack times, meals and naps. The older kids loved sticking to my two little guys' schedule because it meant guaranteed pool time back at the resort! But there were occasions when my little guys (and Grandma!) were a little tuckered out and just needed a break with their toys back at the room. Because we were on the monorail Grandma felt confident in taking them back to rest by herself so we could continue on playing with the others.
So for us Grandma, the spacious room, being on the monorail - these were all luxuries that made our trip with the two, three and under, not just doable but down right magical.
As I said, I am a bit of a type-A research specialist when it comes to vacation planning. Having 8 people at different ages and levels of ability would have forced me to be for this trip anyway, even if I weren't naturally so. I knew the rules about giving kids the expectations of their behaviors and laying out consequences so they would realize Disney was still reality and they still had to keep their minds about them. I knew to stick with the schedule and to make sure everyone eats, hydrates, and rests. We were also fortunate enough to get to spend 9 days and 8 nights there the first time so we chose to skip the parks a day or two, one of those days we just rested and enjoyed Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party in the evening.
The first day we explored our surroundings and scheduled dinner at our resort for 1900 Park Fare. Every, single one of us LOVED this experience so much that each subsequent visit this has been our arrival night reservation. Our little guy slept through much of it but somehow managed to awaken when the very last character, The Fairy Godmother, came to our table. Since this was his favorite character from the Cinderella story (unless Jac and Gus were hiding out somewhere to be seen later), he went straight to her with a big hug and smile. Truly a special moment.
Because I was as excited as one of the kids to get to the parks the next day, I made sure we were there for rope drop our first day at Magic Kingdom. Our 17 month old son was getting his first haircut at the Harmony Barber Shop on Main St. and I had heard the line can get long quick so head straight there. There were 3 ahead of us so we had a short wait. Unfortunately this meant that I missed the other three kiddos' faces when they walked down Main St. for the first time ever. But luckily Chip 'n Dale were hanging out to distract my son from any melt downs. Mary was quick with his hair cut, offering an endless supply of Mickey stickers to keep him occupied while she worked. When it was finished she gave him a certificate and ears which said, "First Haircut". Gone was the flopsy near baby I had brought to Florida with me, I was now traveling with a handsome little man.
After I put him back in his stroller to work our way down to catch up with the rest of our family, I knelt down next to him and asked him what he thought. In doing so I was able to see the hub and castle exactly from his vantage point as he would see it. My eyes filled with tears because I saw how bright and big and magical it must have looked to my baby. Before I could get too sentimental he finally broke the silence and spoke, "Buzz", he said pointing, "Buzz, Mommy!". So off to Space Ranger Spin in Tomorrowland we went.
I have to mention that moment stuck with me and every time we've gone back I have always tried to see things from both of my children's vantage points for that visit by getting down to their eye level. And I must share that it is amazing while they are growing so much how greatly that can change from visit to visit. It also disproves the theory that a toddler is too young to enjoy Disney. While there may be truth to them not remembering their trip in great detail, parents will. We parents will remember their eyes lighting up when they meet that special character for the first time or their first glance at the parade that is going by. And trust me, there was not a wasted moment from that vacation for my young son.
My prep work lead me to have very organized backpacks filled with things like diapers and wipes, hand sanitizers, juices, snacks, aspirin, ponchos, sippy cups. These things all ended up being super convenient and my husband was quite grateful I took the time to arrange all of this before we ever set foot at a park. Another thing I took care of before we ever even left home was shipping some of those items to us at the Grand Floridian to save us suitcase space. It was an ok idea, one we never repeated. Unfortunately for us the GF staff didn't ever deliver it so my husband got a note asking him to come to the Business Center to pick up a package. Kind of defeated the purpose but it did save us space. I had been cautious and brought overnight pull ups for our three year old just in case plus my son's diapers and swim diapers. I also sent bowls and cereals, dry snacks, and items along those lines so we would have food for whatever meal our free dining plan didn't cover.
Many days we scheduled two character or table meals. This was kind of overkill and did crush us on time. But we had decided to upgrade our dining plan because we were doing it up right. And having the smaller kids we thought the air and rest might be welcomed. And although we were grateful for the respite character meals can take a long time to be seated and to get through so sometimes you shoot yourself in the foot there. I think 1 character meal and 1 sit down meal a day seems to be the best bet for our family on all fronts.
The following year we returned to WDW as a family of four. We stayed in the moderate Port Orleans French Quarter. The kids loved it and we were able to attend MNSSHP again. We have been back two more times since then. Every time Disney changes, the kids have grown and their perspective or desires change, and we learn how to navigate 'the World' more successfully for our family.
My first visit was at 28 years old (almost 29) in 2002. It was sort of a graduation present from college to myself (yep, in only 10 years I got a bachelor's!). I went with my then boyfriend, now husband, who had been there twice before. It was only a month after graduation and three months after my father's death. Maybe that's why I finally understood people's obsession with the place, because it was a very welcomed distraction from an extremely difficult time in my life.
Fast forward seven years. We now have a niece who is 8, a nephew turning 7, a 3 year old daughter and a 17 month old son. We had been waiting and waiting for everyone to get "old enough" to go. I think I was the one who grew most tired of waiting. I knew my niece was outgrowing girly stuff and had a maturity about her that went far beyond her years. It felt like reason would get to her sooner rather than later if we didn't go while she still had a childlike bewilderment about her.
So despite the 1,000s of nasty comments about how my son (17 months) will never remember his first trip to Disney and what a horrible nightmare it sounded like to take two toddlers, we were off. Mommy, Daddy, 3yo girl, 17mo boy. We were joined by my sis and my mom with my sister's two "older" children".
I did a TON of research. And because we thought we were taking this trip 2 or 3 years before (darn, I just kept getting pregnant and postponing it for my poor niece and nephew) we were able to save up. These things, coupled with traveling at an off season period, and a free dining offer, allowed us the opportunity to stay at the Grand Floridian. It was also my mom's first trip and boy, did we spoil her there! Everyone loved our connecting rooms and the gorgeous decor of the resort. The pools were excellent, food was great, we could see fireworks on the lagoon at night as well as the electrical water pageant but the greatest contributing factor for us in choosing GF was that it was on the monorail. And because we were there in September the crowds and weather were much more tolerable as well.
Having the two toddlers meant having two umbrella strollers and two backpacks. It also meant adhering to our regularly scheduled programming as far as potty breaks, snack times, meals and naps. The older kids loved sticking to my two little guys' schedule because it meant guaranteed pool time back at the resort! But there were occasions when my little guys (and Grandma!) were a little tuckered out and just needed a break with their toys back at the room. Because we were on the monorail Grandma felt confident in taking them back to rest by herself so we could continue on playing with the others.
So for us Grandma, the spacious room, being on the monorail - these were all luxuries that made our trip with the two, three and under, not just doable but down right magical.
As I said, I am a bit of a type-A research specialist when it comes to vacation planning. Having 8 people at different ages and levels of ability would have forced me to be for this trip anyway, even if I weren't naturally so. I knew the rules about giving kids the expectations of their behaviors and laying out consequences so they would realize Disney was still reality and they still had to keep their minds about them. I knew to stick with the schedule and to make sure everyone eats, hydrates, and rests. We were also fortunate enough to get to spend 9 days and 8 nights there the first time so we chose to skip the parks a day or two, one of those days we just rested and enjoyed Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party in the evening.
The first day we explored our surroundings and scheduled dinner at our resort for 1900 Park Fare. Every, single one of us LOVED this experience so much that each subsequent visit this has been our arrival night reservation. Our little guy slept through much of it but somehow managed to awaken when the very last character, The Fairy Godmother, came to our table. Since this was his favorite character from the Cinderella story (unless Jac and Gus were hiding out somewhere to be seen later), he went straight to her with a big hug and smile. Truly a special moment.
Because I was as excited as one of the kids to get to the parks the next day, I made sure we were there for rope drop our first day at Magic Kingdom. Our 17 month old son was getting his first haircut at the Harmony Barber Shop on Main St. and I had heard the line can get long quick so head straight there. There were 3 ahead of us so we had a short wait. Unfortunately this meant that I missed the other three kiddos' faces when they walked down Main St. for the first time ever. But luckily Chip 'n Dale were hanging out to distract my son from any melt downs. Mary was quick with his hair cut, offering an endless supply of Mickey stickers to keep him occupied while she worked. When it was finished she gave him a certificate and ears which said, "First Haircut". Gone was the flopsy near baby I had brought to Florida with me, I was now traveling with a handsome little man.
After I put him back in his stroller to work our way down to catch up with the rest of our family, I knelt down next to him and asked him what he thought. In doing so I was able to see the hub and castle exactly from his vantage point as he would see it. My eyes filled with tears because I saw how bright and big and magical it must have looked to my baby. Before I could get too sentimental he finally broke the silence and spoke, "Buzz", he said pointing, "Buzz, Mommy!". So off to Space Ranger Spin in Tomorrowland we went.
I have to mention that moment stuck with me and every time we've gone back I have always tried to see things from both of my children's vantage points for that visit by getting down to their eye level. And I must share that it is amazing while they are growing so much how greatly that can change from visit to visit. It also disproves the theory that a toddler is too young to enjoy Disney. While there may be truth to them not remembering their trip in great detail, parents will. We parents will remember their eyes lighting up when they meet that special character for the first time or their first glance at the parade that is going by. And trust me, there was not a wasted moment from that vacation for my young son.
My prep work lead me to have very organized backpacks filled with things like diapers and wipes, hand sanitizers, juices, snacks, aspirin, ponchos, sippy cups. These things all ended up being super convenient and my husband was quite grateful I took the time to arrange all of this before we ever set foot at a park. Another thing I took care of before we ever even left home was shipping some of those items to us at the Grand Floridian to save us suitcase space. It was an ok idea, one we never repeated. Unfortunately for us the GF staff didn't ever deliver it so my husband got a note asking him to come to the Business Center to pick up a package. Kind of defeated the purpose but it did save us space. I had been cautious and brought overnight pull ups for our three year old just in case plus my son's diapers and swim diapers. I also sent bowls and cereals, dry snacks, and items along those lines so we would have food for whatever meal our free dining plan didn't cover.
Many days we scheduled two character or table meals. This was kind of overkill and did crush us on time. But we had decided to upgrade our dining plan because we were doing it up right. And having the smaller kids we thought the air and rest might be welcomed. And although we were grateful for the respite character meals can take a long time to be seated and to get through so sometimes you shoot yourself in the foot there. I think 1 character meal and 1 sit down meal a day seems to be the best bet for our family on all fronts.
The following year we returned to WDW as a family of four. We stayed in the moderate Port Orleans French Quarter. The kids loved it and we were able to attend MNSSHP again. We have been back two more times since then. Every time Disney changes, the kids have grown and their perspective or desires change, and we learn how to navigate 'the World' more successfully for our family.
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