Last night, I got a good reminder. Sometimes, it's good, healthy, and even necessary to just be silly, play, and have fun! I'm not very good at doing "me" things. It's through no one's fault but my own. I'm not saying we should all run around being selfish and indulgent. But it's okay to occasionally do things that don't benefit or serve any purpose.
Last night, for the first time in probably a decade, I went to an amusement park. It's been way too long since I've been on a roller coaster or other thrill ride. I was as giddy as a school girl. I wanted to skip. I wanted to cry. I could not stop smiling! On those horrible pictures they take mid-ride, I was grinning like a Cheshire Cat!
It just felt great to be silly and care-free, even if only for an hour. I cannot wait to go back and introduce my son to (age-appropriate) thrill rides. And I cannot wait for more silly girls nights on roller coasters with 200 foot climbs and 75 MPH drops. WEEEEEEEEE!
I don't make these statements as any sentiment against my son or my husband. I absolutely love my life and have an awesome time with them. I love being wife and mom. I have an awesome time with them. And neither of them ever make me feel restricted or held back. I just sometimes forget to let go. And when I can remember, whether it's at an amusement park or just dancing in my den (which I do,) I just get to a whole 'nother level of happy! And I think remembering to play, let loose, and be silly makes me a better mom and wife.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Some days...
Some days are crazy. Some days are borderline boring. Some days are infuriating. And some are just downright fantastically fun. Today, it was a little bit of everything.
This morning, I took my knucklehead to a splash ground to play with other kids. We got there first. He pushed the button and it started making little puddles, which he promptly stomped around in. Because we were the first people there, the fountains took a little time to get going. He didn't know what was coming. He's obliviously stomping in the middle when, all of the sudden, eight fountains shoot up all around him, drenching him! He sucked in a massive intake of air and froze. Then began laughing, babbling, shouting, and running around like a delighted maniac. He had a great time. And I couldn't help but be amused with how much noise he was making. But the moment the fountains shut off, so did his noise. Then he'd push the button again and the happy squeals would ensue.
Getting him home afterwards was a little tricky. He showed me the sign for all down at the splash ground. And at first, I didn't believe him. But we'd been there about an hour and he was getting goose bumps. So I changed him into dry clothes and we headed for home. (He had also started whining while at the splash ground shortly before we left.) The drive home, he alternated between crying at the top of his lungs and trying to fall asleep. I kept having to tickle him to keep him awake long enough to feed him once we got home. All that did was make him scream more. I tried singing and clapping. But all he wanted to do was whine. As soon as we got home, he was more than pleasant while he ate lunch. Then he took a very good nap.
I got some work done around the house while he slept. After he awoke, we went to run a few errands. He's usually good as gold in public. But today, for some weird reason, he decided to throw fits at random intervals for no apparent reason. He didn't want to be held. He didn't want to be put down. He didn't want to hold my hand. And he didn't want to stay with me. Aarrgghh!! The next moment, he would be flirting with people and blowing kisses, although nothing had changed.
And now, he's in bed. For the second time tonight. We tried putting him to bed when he was acting very sleepy and falling down a lot (which is one of his typical signs.) He decided to scream and cry in that heartbreaking way that makes you get him back up. So we let him hang out with us for another half hour or so. Then, I put him back to bed. He screamed and cried for about 10 minutes. He's since settled down. But it's been almost an hour since I laid him down and he's still awake! He seems content and not fussy, so I'll leave him. And I trust he'll fall asleep eventually. But I don't get him!
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Life is What Happens to You While You're Busy Making Other Plans
I may not agree with all the philosophies of John Lennon (although I adore most of his music.) But I definitely agree with this one. And yes, I also have one of those cheesy magnets on my fridge that says, "We plan. God laughs." And maybe it is cheesy. But I also think it's true.
So what is the sentiment on which John Lennon actually agrees with God? (Heb 13:5 - be content with what you have) Contentment. Happiness. For most of us, life did not turn out how we planned or would have predicted. Some things are vastly different. Some things are minor. Some lives are drastically different from how they began; good, bad, or ugly. And a few rare people have had their lives follow the road map they set out when they were five-years-old.
But are those rareties happy in their lives? And are people whose lives are radically altered unhappy? I'd bet the answer is...maybe. I don't think contentment should be experienced because life is or isn't how you planned. Maybe it's good that it turned out differently than expected. Maybe it's much harder than it should be. But being content is not about being complacent. It isn't about not having goals. And it isn't about not exerting effort.
Contentment, to me, is about choice. I know several people who have not fallen in love, married, and had the 2.3 children they expected to by the time they reached the age they are. But they do not pine away for the life they do not have. They enjoy the life they are blessed with, realizing that while marriage and parenthood can be wonderful, so can singlehood. Embrace where you are! I know people who have pursued careers doggedly and diligently, only to not get the job they want. Or stranger still, they got the job they wanted, only to learn they don't want that job. But they do not wallow. They seek a different job, they pursue other interests. And they are grateful for employment and learning opportunities.
I know people whose home lives are so different from what they experienced in their youth that they wonder what to do with themselves, even if it's a positive difference. Sometimes, they're almost afraid to be happy or content, waiting for the shoe to drop. But they persist in creating a loving home and family.
Being content isn't about comparing your circumstances with those around you. Maybe "they" have more money. But maybe "they" also have more debt. Maybe "they" have a spouse. But maybe "they" sleep in different beds. Maybe "they" have the job they always said they would. But maybe "they" wished they didn't. Maybe.
The "maybes" and "what-ifs" are so dangerous and fight against the contentment I think we all want. Life is not a movie with an alternate ending. There's no way to know what might have been if you'd turned left instead of right. No one can tell you if things would have been better if you chose door A instead of door B.
So do not look to others. Do not compare yourself. Do not waste valuable and precious time that you can never recapture with the "maybes" and "what-could-have-beens." What is, is. Embrace it. And if you aren't content, change it. (Don't do foolish things, though! Don't get a divorce, fix a marriage. Don't walk away from your kids, get to know them. etc.) But look to God. The rest of Heb 13:5 promises that He will NEVER leave or forsake us.
Choose happiness in your circumstance. Even if your life does not look the way you envisioned. Find contentment. And realize that the greatest blessing in your life might be that it did not turn out the way you imagined.
So what is the sentiment on which John Lennon actually agrees with God? (Heb 13:5 - be content with what you have) Contentment. Happiness. For most of us, life did not turn out how we planned or would have predicted. Some things are vastly different. Some things are minor. Some lives are drastically different from how they began; good, bad, or ugly. And a few rare people have had their lives follow the road map they set out when they were five-years-old.
But are those rareties happy in their lives? And are people whose lives are radically altered unhappy? I'd bet the answer is...maybe. I don't think contentment should be experienced because life is or isn't how you planned. Maybe it's good that it turned out differently than expected. Maybe it's much harder than it should be. But being content is not about being complacent. It isn't about not having goals. And it isn't about not exerting effort.
Contentment, to me, is about choice. I know several people who have not fallen in love, married, and had the 2.3 children they expected to by the time they reached the age they are. But they do not pine away for the life they do not have. They enjoy the life they are blessed with, realizing that while marriage and parenthood can be wonderful, so can singlehood. Embrace where you are! I know people who have pursued careers doggedly and diligently, only to not get the job they want. Or stranger still, they got the job they wanted, only to learn they don't want that job. But they do not wallow. They seek a different job, they pursue other interests. And they are grateful for employment and learning opportunities.
I know people whose home lives are so different from what they experienced in their youth that they wonder what to do with themselves, even if it's a positive difference. Sometimes, they're almost afraid to be happy or content, waiting for the shoe to drop. But they persist in creating a loving home and family.
Being content isn't about comparing your circumstances with those around you. Maybe "they" have more money. But maybe "they" also have more debt. Maybe "they" have a spouse. But maybe "they" sleep in different beds. Maybe "they" have the job they always said they would. But maybe "they" wished they didn't. Maybe.
The "maybes" and "what-ifs" are so dangerous and fight against the contentment I think we all want. Life is not a movie with an alternate ending. There's no way to know what might have been if you'd turned left instead of right. No one can tell you if things would have been better if you chose door A instead of door B.
So do not look to others. Do not compare yourself. Do not waste valuable and precious time that you can never recapture with the "maybes" and "what-could-have-beens." What is, is. Embrace it. And if you aren't content, change it. (Don't do foolish things, though! Don't get a divorce, fix a marriage. Don't walk away from your kids, get to know them. etc.) But look to God. The rest of Heb 13:5 promises that He will NEVER leave or forsake us.
Choose happiness in your circumstance. Even if your life does not look the way you envisioned. Find contentment. And realize that the greatest blessing in your life might be that it did not turn out the way you imagined.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
It Takes a Village, part II
As previously mentioned, I fully buy in to the old adage that it takes a village to raise a child. I utilize the support and knowledge of my spouse, family, and friends regularly. I give advice when asked and I have something to contribute. I ask for help when I need it. But ultimately, I'm still the parent. And I'm still responsible to make sure my child grows up to be a responsible citizen and a productive member of society. My child is no one else's job (with the exception of my husband.)
Recently, I encountered a circumstance in which I felt the parent was relying too heavily on the "village" and not taking responsibility for their child. I so badly wanted to say something but didn't feel it was my place. So, in protecting their anonymity, I will now vent and encourage other parents not to behave thusly.
I recently attended a function where childcare was provided by volunteers. This was NOT someone babysitting, getting paid, and in the protective walls of the family's home. This was people giving up their time and ability to attend the function out of the kindness of their heart and the love of children. A child was dropped off and started crying. This in and of itself is not unusual or even unexpected. In fact, several other children displayed similar behavior when being left. But most of the kids were either soothed through rocking or redirecting. The aforementioned child was having none of it. He was throwing a tantrum and crying. So he was initially ignored, operating under the assumption that he would cry himself in a few minutes.
He didn't. So he was picked up and rocked. He continued crying and asked to get down. So he was put down. Twenty minutes of inconsolable wailing was finally enough. His parents were silently notified at the function that there was an issue and their attendance to said issue was required. His father came and talked to his young (between 1 and 2-years-old) son, who continued sobbing. Instead of the parent remaining with the child or, better yet, removing the child from the situation, the parent told the volunteers that they would be returning to the function and to just let the child cry.
I was flabbergasted. I understand teaching discipline and self-control. I understand not giving into the demands of a screaming toddler. However, I do not understand allowing a child to cry uncontrollably in a room full of other children and unpaid workers. The affect of the crying child was, shockingly, that other children cried and were upset far longer than they should and would have otherwise been. The affect on the disrespected workers appalled me even more. There was no consideration whatsoever for the kindness of these people who volunteered to watch this man's son. The nerves of the volunteers must have been frayed beyond belief. The child continued crying throughout the remainder of the almost-two-hour event. He even began holding his stomach and doubling over because he was making himself sick with crying.
If you have ever found yourself in a situation where your child is upset and disruptive to the point that you are notified, please take your kid. It's a nice way of them telling you they don't want you to leave your child in there! It is inconsiderate, disrespectful, and quite unnecessary. And if you don't think it's that big of a deal, step up to the plate. Volunteer at the next event to watch everyone else's child. And remember that your kid is your responsibility. The village is just there for support.
Recently, I encountered a circumstance in which I felt the parent was relying too heavily on the "village" and not taking responsibility for their child. I so badly wanted to say something but didn't feel it was my place. So, in protecting their anonymity, I will now vent and encourage other parents not to behave thusly.
I recently attended a function where childcare was provided by volunteers. This was NOT someone babysitting, getting paid, and in the protective walls of the family's home. This was people giving up their time and ability to attend the function out of the kindness of their heart and the love of children. A child was dropped off and started crying. This in and of itself is not unusual or even unexpected. In fact, several other children displayed similar behavior when being left. But most of the kids were either soothed through rocking or redirecting. The aforementioned child was having none of it. He was throwing a tantrum and crying. So he was initially ignored, operating under the assumption that he would cry himself in a few minutes.
He didn't. So he was picked up and rocked. He continued crying and asked to get down. So he was put down. Twenty minutes of inconsolable wailing was finally enough. His parents were silently notified at the function that there was an issue and their attendance to said issue was required. His father came and talked to his young (between 1 and 2-years-old) son, who continued sobbing. Instead of the parent remaining with the child or, better yet, removing the child from the situation, the parent told the volunteers that they would be returning to the function and to just let the child cry.
I was flabbergasted. I understand teaching discipline and self-control. I understand not giving into the demands of a screaming toddler. However, I do not understand allowing a child to cry uncontrollably in a room full of other children and unpaid workers. The affect of the crying child was, shockingly, that other children cried and were upset far longer than they should and would have otherwise been. The affect on the disrespected workers appalled me even more. There was no consideration whatsoever for the kindness of these people who volunteered to watch this man's son. The nerves of the volunteers must have been frayed beyond belief. The child continued crying throughout the remainder of the almost-two-hour event. He even began holding his stomach and doubling over because he was making himself sick with crying.
If you have ever found yourself in a situation where your child is upset and disruptive to the point that you are notified, please take your kid. It's a nice way of them telling you they don't want you to leave your child in there! It is inconsiderate, disrespectful, and quite unnecessary. And if you don't think it's that big of a deal, step up to the plate. Volunteer at the next event to watch everyone else's child. And remember that your kid is your responsibility. The village is just there for support.
Monday, May 21, 2012
It Takes a Village, part I
You know the old adage, "It takes a village to raise a child." Well, I'm here to tell you, it's true. Some "villages" are very small, some too large. And I've noticed the size of the village can, and should, fluctuate according to the circumstance.
This weekend, and this past week, I've observed a few different types of villages and parenting styles within those villages, including my own. First, I'll share my experience. My son recently turned two. Evidently, he has now realized that he is two and is determined to at least try on the "terrible" hat to see how it feels and if it fits. This is one hat I wish he'd never picked up. He is still my sweet and funny little man a lot of the time. But he's also decided to test boundaries and learn what's what. I think I'm usually a pretty patient mom. But Sunday afternoon, I was ready to string him up by his toenails. (Not to mention we'd had a bad afternoon last Wednesday.)
Sunday, I went and picked him up from his nap like usual. He snuggled into my shoulder. Like usual. Then I changed his diaper. Like usual. This is where things began to shift. He was less tolerant of the diaper change and began fussing and kicking. I persevered, picked him up, and carried him downstairs. He hadn't eaten much, so I figured he'd be hungry. Thusly, I offered him a drink and some food. He reacted as though I was trying to poison him! He threw his sippy cup. He hit me. He refused bites. I tried letting him feed himself (which is sometimes his preference and he will refuse to eat otherwise.) He picked up a handful of food and threw it at me as hard as he could. All the while screaming and sobbing with crocodile tears running down his face. To say I was at a loss would be an understatement.
Because his tantrums are still relatively new and uncommon, I am still trying to figure out what response from me changes his behavior. First, I tried denying him an audience and walked away. (He was safely confined and couldn't fall or otherwise hurt himself.) He calmed down a few minutes later, so I walked back in and asked him what he wanted. As soon as he saw me, he started the tantrum again. So I walked away again. We did this little dance a couple of times. I tried talking to him in a normal tone and offering him what I thought he wanted. He continued screaming. So I thought I'd try to shock him. I screamed back. Not in anger, entirely, but to let him know screaming wasn't going to affect me. Mommy can scream too. Wanna scream? Let's scream together? Nope. That didn't work either.
My husband, my village, sat patiently, supportively, with me as I tried to navigate this particularly nasty tantrum. He was perfectly what I needed. He didn't undermine me with our child. He didn't take away my authority in front of our son. He didn't get impatient and tell me to shut him up. He didn't take over. And he didn't ignore the situation with a "you deal with it" attitude. He quietly encouraged me. He tried to also deal with our son. But he knew this was a tantrum I had to cope with since I'm usually home with him and since it was me he was lashing out towards.
Then, I had to do it. Nothing else had worked and I'd always said I wasn't above a spanking if nothing else was getting through to the child. But I did one thing (at least, this time) that I always said I wanted to. I didn't spank out of anger. I was in control. I pulled his shorts up a little and popped him once on the thigh. Not to bruise, maim, damage, or even hurt. But enough to get his attention. His crying changed for a few seconds. Then, subtly at first, but surely, started fading into the snuffles and eventually stopped. He went to his dad first. And I can't say as I blame him. But after a minute, he walked to me, laid his head on me, and gave me a hug.
We had a good rest of the afternoon together as a family. We went for a walk around the track at a local high school. I decided if he had that much pent-up energy and frustration that he wanted to hit, I'd let him wear his backpack to give his muscles more "work" (on the recommendation of our therapist.) He walked farther around the track than normal. He even ran a good deal of it. And when we took the backpack off, he tried to put his arms back through the straps to get it back on! So we let him wear it a while longer. We then went to dinner, where he almost fell asleep at the table. But had a much better afternoon.
The Village, part II, tomorrow.
This weekend, and this past week, I've observed a few different types of villages and parenting styles within those villages, including my own. First, I'll share my experience. My son recently turned two. Evidently, he has now realized that he is two and is determined to at least try on the "terrible" hat to see how it feels and if it fits. This is one hat I wish he'd never picked up. He is still my sweet and funny little man a lot of the time. But he's also decided to test boundaries and learn what's what. I think I'm usually a pretty patient mom. But Sunday afternoon, I was ready to string him up by his toenails. (Not to mention we'd had a bad afternoon last Wednesday.)
Sunday, I went and picked him up from his nap like usual. He snuggled into my shoulder. Like usual. Then I changed his diaper. Like usual. This is where things began to shift. He was less tolerant of the diaper change and began fussing and kicking. I persevered, picked him up, and carried him downstairs. He hadn't eaten much, so I figured he'd be hungry. Thusly, I offered him a drink and some food. He reacted as though I was trying to poison him! He threw his sippy cup. He hit me. He refused bites. I tried letting him feed himself (which is sometimes his preference and he will refuse to eat otherwise.) He picked up a handful of food and threw it at me as hard as he could. All the while screaming and sobbing with crocodile tears running down his face. To say I was at a loss would be an understatement.
Because his tantrums are still relatively new and uncommon, I am still trying to figure out what response from me changes his behavior. First, I tried denying him an audience and walked away. (He was safely confined and couldn't fall or otherwise hurt himself.) He calmed down a few minutes later, so I walked back in and asked him what he wanted. As soon as he saw me, he started the tantrum again. So I walked away again. We did this little dance a couple of times. I tried talking to him in a normal tone and offering him what I thought he wanted. He continued screaming. So I thought I'd try to shock him. I screamed back. Not in anger, entirely, but to let him know screaming wasn't going to affect me. Mommy can scream too. Wanna scream? Let's scream together? Nope. That didn't work either.
My husband, my village, sat patiently, supportively, with me as I tried to navigate this particularly nasty tantrum. He was perfectly what I needed. He didn't undermine me with our child. He didn't take away my authority in front of our son. He didn't get impatient and tell me to shut him up. He didn't take over. And he didn't ignore the situation with a "you deal with it" attitude. He quietly encouraged me. He tried to also deal with our son. But he knew this was a tantrum I had to cope with since I'm usually home with him and since it was me he was lashing out towards.
Then, I had to do it. Nothing else had worked and I'd always said I wasn't above a spanking if nothing else was getting through to the child. But I did one thing (at least, this time) that I always said I wanted to. I didn't spank out of anger. I was in control. I pulled his shorts up a little and popped him once on the thigh. Not to bruise, maim, damage, or even hurt. But enough to get his attention. His crying changed for a few seconds. Then, subtly at first, but surely, started fading into the snuffles and eventually stopped. He went to his dad first. And I can't say as I blame him. But after a minute, he walked to me, laid his head on me, and gave me a hug.
We had a good rest of the afternoon together as a family. We went for a walk around the track at a local high school. I decided if he had that much pent-up energy and frustration that he wanted to hit, I'd let him wear his backpack to give his muscles more "work" (on the recommendation of our therapist.) He walked farther around the track than normal. He even ran a good deal of it. And when we took the backpack off, he tried to put his arms back through the straps to get it back on! So we let him wear it a while longer. We then went to dinner, where he almost fell asleep at the table. But had a much better afternoon.
The Village, part II, tomorrow.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
I Don't Know How They Do It
I envy, admire, and am generally in awe of mommies with spic-n-span homes. And I don't know how they do it. I'd love to get their tips and tricks of the trade. (Please!) I'll admit, I am not the housekeeper I wish I was. I don't know if it'll improve with the stages of my knucklehead. Or if I'll get more disciplined. Something, sometime, has got to give.
He currently naps for approximately 1.5 - 2 hours a day. And granted, there are plenty of things I can get done while he's awake. Some, like vacuuming, have to be done while he's awake. Or he'll wake up. Which makes neither of us happy. But others, such as folding clothes, mopping the floor, unloading and loading the dishwasher, cleaning anything with chemicals or strong-odored cleaning products, must be done while he sleeps. And there's always dishes and laundry to be done. So how in the world do I get the other things accomplished? Seriously, I'm asking.
I pick up his toys. Ten times a day. And he always gets them back out. But I can't get upset because they're toys. They're his. And I want him to play with them. He even plays with non-toys. And I love that. I love his creativity and imagination. And I don't want to discourage it. But I seriously feel often like my day consists of playing with him, feeding him, and following him around picking up his wake. He helps me pick up, and joyfully. But I feel like I live in a perpetual state of clutter. I tried buying a toy bin but couldn't assemble it. So his current stash of toys in the den is contained in a play pen turned on its side so he has access to said toys. Needless to say, I use the word "contained" VERY lightly.
I think I'm even beginning to suffer from untidy-blindness. It's a very serious condition (whose name is still in the works) that consists of growing so accustomed to a constant state of disarray, clutter, dust, splatters, and other untidiness that a person begins to no longer be able to see it. And if you cannot see it, you do not recognize it, thus it does not get remedied. The only two treatments I've found thus far are (a) invite people over often, particularly people from out of town; and (b) solicit potentially painful, but honest feedback from loved ones, friends, and oh yeah, the people you live with. I figure if they love me enough to live with me or come visit me with my house not being perfect and without judging me, they'll probably also love me enough to be honest. They'll tell me what needs cleaning when I can no longer see it.
But I really wish I could just figure this out. I want to take a page out of the "Little Shop of Horrors" song and "I cook like Betty Crocker and I look like Donna Reed." (Ok, I don't really want to look like Donna Reed. I want to look like...well, that's another entry...) And if I were rewriting that song, I'd tack on something about keeping house like Martha Stewart. My guess is that her house is not only crafty, lovely, and freshly scented; but that you could run a white glove over any banister or picture frame on any day of the week and not find dust. Ever.
But I suppose I'm happier than Ms. Stewart. I've never been accused or convicted of a felony. My child does not yet have a television show bashing me. My husband loves me. My friends don't feel afraid or embarrassed around me. But I could probably stand to have a little of her OCD and creativity.
Anyone got any brilliant ideas to fix me?
He currently naps for approximately 1.5 - 2 hours a day. And granted, there are plenty of things I can get done while he's awake. Some, like vacuuming, have to be done while he's awake. Or he'll wake up. Which makes neither of us happy. But others, such as folding clothes, mopping the floor, unloading and loading the dishwasher, cleaning anything with chemicals or strong-odored cleaning products, must be done while he sleeps. And there's always dishes and laundry to be done. So how in the world do I get the other things accomplished? Seriously, I'm asking.
I pick up his toys. Ten times a day. And he always gets them back out. But I can't get upset because they're toys. They're his. And I want him to play with them. He even plays with non-toys. And I love that. I love his creativity and imagination. And I don't want to discourage it. But I seriously feel often like my day consists of playing with him, feeding him, and following him around picking up his wake. He helps me pick up, and joyfully. But I feel like I live in a perpetual state of clutter. I tried buying a toy bin but couldn't assemble it. So his current stash of toys in the den is contained in a play pen turned on its side so he has access to said toys. Needless to say, I use the word "contained" VERY lightly.
I think I'm even beginning to suffer from untidy-blindness. It's a very serious condition (whose name is still in the works) that consists of growing so accustomed to a constant state of disarray, clutter, dust, splatters, and other untidiness that a person begins to no longer be able to see it. And if you cannot see it, you do not recognize it, thus it does not get remedied. The only two treatments I've found thus far are (a) invite people over often, particularly people from out of town; and (b) solicit potentially painful, but honest feedback from loved ones, friends, and oh yeah, the people you live with. I figure if they love me enough to live with me or come visit me with my house not being perfect and without judging me, they'll probably also love me enough to be honest. They'll tell me what needs cleaning when I can no longer see it.
But I really wish I could just figure this out. I want to take a page out of the "Little Shop of Horrors" song and "I cook like Betty Crocker and I look like Donna Reed." (Ok, I don't really want to look like Donna Reed. I want to look like...well, that's another entry...) And if I were rewriting that song, I'd tack on something about keeping house like Martha Stewart. My guess is that her house is not only crafty, lovely, and freshly scented; but that you could run a white glove over any banister or picture frame on any day of the week and not find dust. Ever.
But I suppose I'm happier than Ms. Stewart. I've never been accused or convicted of a felony. My child does not yet have a television show bashing me. My husband loves me. My friends don't feel afraid or embarrassed around me. But I could probably stand to have a little of her OCD and creativity.
Anyone got any brilliant ideas to fix me?
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
The Controversial "Time" Magazine Cover
The Time cover has recently garnered all sorts of attention for the young mom nursing her four-year-old son, who is standing on a chair. I'll be honest and say that I don't understand nursing a child that long. But I won't berate or insult them, that's for sure. I don't expect anyone to question my parenting methods. After all, I'm the best mom for my son and have his best interest at heart. So while I don't understand nursing a child that long, I won't pretend to know what's best for that child or that family.
With that being said, my biggest issue with that shocking cover is not the photo itself, it's the caption. "Are you Mom Enough?" Time, how dare you?!?! How dare you question my "mom-ness!" How dare you imply, or even flat-out state, that moms who nurse long-term are "more" mom or better than me! I will never deny that breast milk is best and has healthy attributes for newborns. But let me tell you, Time, I have done the absolute best for my son possible.
My story regarding breast feeding is something I'll share without hesitation or shame. My husband and I decided before we had our son that we would nurse him. The goal was six months, possibly a year. My husband was very sweet, supportive, and understanding. He told me it was my decision how long to do it. We both understood that the colostrum at the beginning is extremely critical and possibly the most important aspect of breast milk. I started nursing our sweet boy shortly after birth. It wasn't intuitive or simple for me or our son. But we worked through it.
I went to a lactation consultant within a week of getting home because Jackson was losing weight. We got it figured out, though. I went to a weekly breastfeeding support group. Sometimes, it was frustrating hearing how some women would just gush or how much they could pump after a feeding. I weighed my son before and after feeding him each meeting. Sometimes he would only get a couple of ounces, even after nursing on both sides. I tried the teas, the supplements, anything to help increase my supply.
But after two months of nursing, my doctor and I agreed that he wasn't getting sufficient nourishment from my breast milk. So we began supplementing with formula. It was a huge relief of stress for me, for my husband, and for my little one's tummy. It was so hard sometimes not knowing how much he was eating. After all, breasts don't have striations indicating how much a knucklehead is eating! At four months, I quit nursing altogether and switched to formula entirely. My husband and I discussed it first. Nursing was becoming more of a frustration because of my extremely low supply. But guess what? My son didn't object at all! He easily switched back and forth between the breast and bottle. He easily switched back and forth between breast milk and formula. I didn't feel a lack of bonding when I quit nursing. I didn't even have the common issue of pain or leaking when I stopped, which just proved to me how little I was probably actually producing.
And my son is loving, affectionate, sweet, and happy. He rarely gets sick. So, Time, I AM "Mom Enough." I am "Mom Enough" to do what's best for my son and put his needs before my own. I am "Mom Enough" to put him on formula without feeling guilty. I am "Mom Enough" to make sure he's fed and full and happy and healthy. So put a mom loving her child at whatever cost on your cover. Not just one with a defiant look, hand on her hip, daring someone to challenge her to a milking contest.
God gave my son to me and me to my son, even though I didn't produce enough milk for him. And he's exactly who he's supposed to be and with whom he belongs. I am Mom Enough for Jackson. And I'll never apologize.
With that being said, my biggest issue with that shocking cover is not the photo itself, it's the caption. "Are you Mom Enough?" Time, how dare you?!?! How dare you question my "mom-ness!" How dare you imply, or even flat-out state, that moms who nurse long-term are "more" mom or better than me! I will never deny that breast milk is best and has healthy attributes for newborns. But let me tell you, Time, I have done the absolute best for my son possible.
My story regarding breast feeding is something I'll share without hesitation or shame. My husband and I decided before we had our son that we would nurse him. The goal was six months, possibly a year. My husband was very sweet, supportive, and understanding. He told me it was my decision how long to do it. We both understood that the colostrum at the beginning is extremely critical and possibly the most important aspect of breast milk. I started nursing our sweet boy shortly after birth. It wasn't intuitive or simple for me or our son. But we worked through it.
I went to a lactation consultant within a week of getting home because Jackson was losing weight. We got it figured out, though. I went to a weekly breastfeeding support group. Sometimes, it was frustrating hearing how some women would just gush or how much they could pump after a feeding. I weighed my son before and after feeding him each meeting. Sometimes he would only get a couple of ounces, even after nursing on both sides. I tried the teas, the supplements, anything to help increase my supply.
But after two months of nursing, my doctor and I agreed that he wasn't getting sufficient nourishment from my breast milk. So we began supplementing with formula. It was a huge relief of stress for me, for my husband, and for my little one's tummy. It was so hard sometimes not knowing how much he was eating. After all, breasts don't have striations indicating how much a knucklehead is eating! At four months, I quit nursing altogether and switched to formula entirely. My husband and I discussed it first. Nursing was becoming more of a frustration because of my extremely low supply. But guess what? My son didn't object at all! He easily switched back and forth between the breast and bottle. He easily switched back and forth between breast milk and formula. I didn't feel a lack of bonding when I quit nursing. I didn't even have the common issue of pain or leaking when I stopped, which just proved to me how little I was probably actually producing.
And my son is loving, affectionate, sweet, and happy. He rarely gets sick. So, Time, I AM "Mom Enough." I am "Mom Enough" to do what's best for my son and put his needs before my own. I am "Mom Enough" to put him on formula without feeling guilty. I am "Mom Enough" to make sure he's fed and full and happy and healthy. So put a mom loving her child at whatever cost on your cover. Not just one with a defiant look, hand on her hip, daring someone to challenge her to a milking contest.
God gave my son to me and me to my son, even though I didn't produce enough milk for him. And he's exactly who he's supposed to be and with whom he belongs. I am Mom Enough for Jackson. And I'll never apologize.
Monday, May 14, 2012
No Sick Days for Mommies
I had an awesome Mother's Day with my two guys. I was given the perfect card and didn't have to cook at all. We kept it low-key but it was exactly what I wanted.
Then today, it was back to reality. I woke up feeling like garbage. Jackson was messing up the silverware drawer more than usual and dropped a heavy utensil on my foot. We discovered my car was dead because the little knucklehead had been playing and inadvertently left the interior lights on all night. And I felt lousy.
But moms don't get sick days. There's no calling in because you're achy, stuffed up, tired, or other, more severe ailments. There's no whining in mommyhood. Instead, you suck it up, get over the moodiness that accompanies feeling like garbage, and give giant hugs to knuckleheads. You make dinner, do laundry, wash dishes, play games, do flashcards, and chase the neighbor's dog.
Yes, mommyhood is a 24/7 job with no sick days. But the perks are unbeatable. And the gratitude? Well, the card, the grins, the hugs, the laughter. They say it all. With a family like mine, not getting sick days is worth it!
Then today, it was back to reality. I woke up feeling like garbage. Jackson was messing up the silverware drawer more than usual and dropped a heavy utensil on my foot. We discovered my car was dead because the little knucklehead had been playing and inadvertently left the interior lights on all night. And I felt lousy.
But moms don't get sick days. There's no calling in because you're achy, stuffed up, tired, or other, more severe ailments. There's no whining in mommyhood. Instead, you suck it up, get over the moodiness that accompanies feeling like garbage, and give giant hugs to knuckleheads. You make dinner, do laundry, wash dishes, play games, do flashcards, and chase the neighbor's dog.
Yes, mommyhood is a 24/7 job with no sick days. But the perks are unbeatable. And the gratitude? Well, the card, the grins, the hugs, the laughter. They say it all. With a family like mine, not getting sick days is worth it!
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Open Letter to Christy Turlington
Dear Christy,
I am a widow. I have lost my maternal grandmother. My husband has lost his father. Trust me when I say, I know how loud the silence of death is.
But I am also now a mom. And I am still blessed enough to have my mom. So, no, Ms. Turlington. I will not be silent. I will take the opportunity on Mother's Day to wrap my arms around my son. I will call my mother (who I DID send a card to) and tell her how much I appreciate her. I will tell her how much I love her. I will tell her how grateful I am for all she sacrificed on behalf of my brother, my father, and myself. I will make sure she knows that she is the reason I am a good mom and wife to my family. I will thank my husband for making me a mom and for all the privileges I am afforded as a stay-at-home-mom because of his hard work. I will tell him how much I enjoy taking care of our son and of him. I will tell my son that I will always love him and be here for him, even when I want to string him up by his toenails.
You see, Ms. Turlington, no one is ever guaranteed a tomorrow. I cannot guarantee I will have a mom next Mother's Day or that I myself will still be here next year. I do not know what fates await my husband and son. So I will not waste a day, whether Mother's Day or just a Tuesday, not communicating with them. I won't not take the chance to tell my loved ones that, well, I love them. I won't squander time, because that's a minute, an hour, a day, that I can never get back. And I never know of who's it might be the last.
So, while I appreciate your sentiment to stand in solidarity with mothers who have lost their lives, I cannot bring them back by ignoring my family. I am happy to do research and find a worthy organization to partner with and donate time, energy, even money, to see that more moms get to celebrate Mother's Day. To ask people to check out of their own lives, even for a day, in no way honors those that have passed.
Take a page from the ACS Relay for Life. They honor those that have gone before, they honor and stand in solidarity with those battling for their lives, they honor those who have survived, and they honor those who have cared for loved ones. But they never ask Relayers to quit living their lives in order to pay homage. Instead, let's honor the lives lost by being the best moms, wives, daughters, women that we can. Let's partner with Big Sister organizations to give children without moms a good, strong, kind, loving female role model to look up to and rely on.
Let's find ways to honor them with our voices, not our silence. Silence speaks way too loud. I know how much I missed the sounds after my husband passed. I know how much my mom still wishes she could speak to her own mother, even twenty-plus years later. I know how much my husband still wants his dad to be alive, to talk to, to show him the man and father he's become. Death comes for us all, and often way too soon. Silence does nothing but create unnecessary and premature gaps. Do not create chasms of silence when you could fill lives with sounds of love.
Sincerely,
Christy Marie Davis Green Nunez
proud daughter of an amazing mom, proud wife of two amazing men, proud mom of an amazing son
I am a widow. I have lost my maternal grandmother. My husband has lost his father. Trust me when I say, I know how loud the silence of death is.
But I am also now a mom. And I am still blessed enough to have my mom. So, no, Ms. Turlington. I will not be silent. I will take the opportunity on Mother's Day to wrap my arms around my son. I will call my mother (who I DID send a card to) and tell her how much I appreciate her. I will tell her how much I love her. I will tell her how grateful I am for all she sacrificed on behalf of my brother, my father, and myself. I will make sure she knows that she is the reason I am a good mom and wife to my family. I will thank my husband for making me a mom and for all the privileges I am afforded as a stay-at-home-mom because of his hard work. I will tell him how much I enjoy taking care of our son and of him. I will tell my son that I will always love him and be here for him, even when I want to string him up by his toenails.
You see, Ms. Turlington, no one is ever guaranteed a tomorrow. I cannot guarantee I will have a mom next Mother's Day or that I myself will still be here next year. I do not know what fates await my husband and son. So I will not waste a day, whether Mother's Day or just a Tuesday, not communicating with them. I won't not take the chance to tell my loved ones that, well, I love them. I won't squander time, because that's a minute, an hour, a day, that I can never get back. And I never know of who's it might be the last.
So, while I appreciate your sentiment to stand in solidarity with mothers who have lost their lives, I cannot bring them back by ignoring my family. I am happy to do research and find a worthy organization to partner with and donate time, energy, even money, to see that more moms get to celebrate Mother's Day. To ask people to check out of their own lives, even for a day, in no way honors those that have passed.
Take a page from the ACS Relay for Life. They honor those that have gone before, they honor and stand in solidarity with those battling for their lives, they honor those who have survived, and they honor those who have cared for loved ones. But they never ask Relayers to quit living their lives in order to pay homage. Instead, let's honor the lives lost by being the best moms, wives, daughters, women that we can. Let's partner with Big Sister organizations to give children without moms a good, strong, kind, loving female role model to look up to and rely on.
Let's find ways to honor them with our voices, not our silence. Silence speaks way too loud. I know how much I missed the sounds after my husband passed. I know how much my mom still wishes she could speak to her own mother, even twenty-plus years later. I know how much my husband still wants his dad to be alive, to talk to, to show him the man and father he's become. Death comes for us all, and often way too soon. Silence does nothing but create unnecessary and premature gaps. Do not create chasms of silence when you could fill lives with sounds of love.
Sincerely,
Christy Marie Davis Green Nunez
proud daughter of an amazing mom, proud wife of two amazing men, proud mom of an amazing son
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
The Highs and Lows of Stay-At-Home Parenting
I love my life. I love my job. I love my family. With that being said, allow me to vent a smidge, if you will.
The day started off magnificently with a workout, Day 2 of the Couch-to-5-k program. And best of all, I got to run with my best friend! The temperature was perfect. It just felt good. After completing our exercise, I came home and fixed breakfast as usual for my amazing hubby. The knucklehead wasn't awake yet, but that was fine by me since he just did not want to sleep last night.
He woke up around 7:45 (which is about an hour of sleeping in for him!) He seemed to be in a fine mood. I've noticed his nose has been a bit more drippy lately and originally thought it was just allergies. Today, my opinion changed and I realized another of his 2-year molars is rearing it's ugly head because he started drooling like a Bloodhound! But overall, our day was pleasant.
We played outside, went shopping, played with flashcards. We read and shot hoops. Everything was just ducky! Until about 5:30. We were all eating dinner. He was eating well and seemed content. Then he acted as if his entire world just blew up in front of him. I swear, this kid was just carrying on as if tomorrow would never come! He's not generally a bratty child, so truth be told, we don't know what to do with him when he turns into a little pistol. We tried asking him to show us what he wanted. We picked him up. We put him down. Nothing sated this kiddo.
My husband finally put him in time-out. That didn't do much either. I tried putting medicine on his little raw nose. I tried giving him teething gel. I tried giving him milk. Everything worked for about two seconds. Then he fell apart all over again. I finally decided to give him a bath and he magically turned back into my sweet son. It was still pretty early, so I was just going to put his lotion and PJs on, then let him play a bit longer. I thought I'd rock him for a minute, though, if he'd let me. There's just something so sweet about a freshly washed kid snuggling up.
Less than five minutes later, he was fast asleep and actually transferred to his crib without even opening his eyes. I cannot believe he was that exhausted! I don't know what triggered it, but all I can figure is that he must not have felt well in some capacity. But I have to admit, it's really frustrating to have a child old enough to have opinions, and consequently tantrums, but unable or unwilling to let me know what's wrong. I think hubby and I were both ready to pull our hair out.
I know my brother keeps telling me not to rush him to talk (you know, because once they start, they NEVER stop!?!) But tonight, it would have been so much easier if he could have somehow communicated what was going on in his crazy head or crazy body. *sigh*
But for now, he sleeps. And if God's mercies with me can be new every morning, I'm pretty sure I can show my son new mercy with the dawn. (But, I'm not God. So, we'll see...)
The day started off magnificently with a workout, Day 2 of the Couch-to-5-k program. And best of all, I got to run with my best friend! The temperature was perfect. It just felt good. After completing our exercise, I came home and fixed breakfast as usual for my amazing hubby. The knucklehead wasn't awake yet, but that was fine by me since he just did not want to sleep last night.
He woke up around 7:45 (which is about an hour of sleeping in for him!) He seemed to be in a fine mood. I've noticed his nose has been a bit more drippy lately and originally thought it was just allergies. Today, my opinion changed and I realized another of his 2-year molars is rearing it's ugly head because he started drooling like a Bloodhound! But overall, our day was pleasant.
We played outside, went shopping, played with flashcards. We read and shot hoops. Everything was just ducky! Until about 5:30. We were all eating dinner. He was eating well and seemed content. Then he acted as if his entire world just blew up in front of him. I swear, this kid was just carrying on as if tomorrow would never come! He's not generally a bratty child, so truth be told, we don't know what to do with him when he turns into a little pistol. We tried asking him to show us what he wanted. We picked him up. We put him down. Nothing sated this kiddo.
My husband finally put him in time-out. That didn't do much either. I tried putting medicine on his little raw nose. I tried giving him teething gel. I tried giving him milk. Everything worked for about two seconds. Then he fell apart all over again. I finally decided to give him a bath and he magically turned back into my sweet son. It was still pretty early, so I was just going to put his lotion and PJs on, then let him play a bit longer. I thought I'd rock him for a minute, though, if he'd let me. There's just something so sweet about a freshly washed kid snuggling up.
Less than five minutes later, he was fast asleep and actually transferred to his crib without even opening his eyes. I cannot believe he was that exhausted! I don't know what triggered it, but all I can figure is that he must not have felt well in some capacity. But I have to admit, it's really frustrating to have a child old enough to have opinions, and consequently tantrums, but unable or unwilling to let me know what's wrong. I think hubby and I were both ready to pull our hair out.
I know my brother keeps telling me not to rush him to talk (you know, because once they start, they NEVER stop!?!) But tonight, it would have been so much easier if he could have somehow communicated what was going on in his crazy head or crazy body. *sigh*
But for now, he sleeps. And if God's mercies with me can be new every morning, I'm pretty sure I can show my son new mercy with the dawn. (But, I'm not God. So, we'll see...)
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Great Companion
At my husband's suggestion, my son and I decided to enjoy this gorgeous day by wandering around downtown Kansas City. Lino thought Jackson would enjoy the people and overall stimulation that comes with being in a metropolitan part of town. He was so right!
We got there around 2 pm and easily found parking. I put him in the stroller and we began walking around. I pointed up to the really high buildings. He sat in his stroller with his arms out feeling the breeze. Then he tucked them so that his elbows were pointing out and began to dance in his seat! I think he was dancing to the rhythm and music of the city. He watched the joggers go by. He waved at the people dining on restaurant patios. He gave high fives and great big smiles to the people at the bus stop. One person at the bus stop asked me if he was 3, almost 4. I just laughed and said, "Nope; he just turned 2 two weeks ago!"
We went into a local coffee shop, in part for a drink, in part for parking validation. I had an excellent iced chai. He kept flashing the lady behind the counter a huge, dimpled grin. She asked if he was allowed to have sweets. I said yes, so she gave him a chocolate chunk cookie. He lit up at that! He leaned in as if to hug her, so she came around the counter. I let him out of the stroller at that point, since we were safely contained in the coffee shop. There was music in the background and as soon as he noticed it, his little booty started wiggling and shaking! They got a big kick out of him in there. He was passing out high fives, blown kisses, and big hugs like they were, well, free, which they were. We lingered in there a while, then headed back out.
He didn't seem to be interested in riding in the stroller, so I strapped his bearhug (aka leash) on and walked back out into the sunshine. He promptly saw three ladies standing on the sidewalk outside another establishment and decided they needed hugging, too. We then headed back home.
He was a delightful companion to spend an afternoon with in downtown KC. I used to work close to downtown and often ran down there. So it felt like heading back to my old stomping grounds. We were both invigorated by our time in the city. And I think he spread some love and sunshine around downtown KC, even more than the sun that was already shining today.
We got there around 2 pm and easily found parking. I put him in the stroller and we began walking around. I pointed up to the really high buildings. He sat in his stroller with his arms out feeling the breeze. Then he tucked them so that his elbows were pointing out and began to dance in his seat! I think he was dancing to the rhythm and music of the city. He watched the joggers go by. He waved at the people dining on restaurant patios. He gave high fives and great big smiles to the people at the bus stop. One person at the bus stop asked me if he was 3, almost 4. I just laughed and said, "Nope; he just turned 2 two weeks ago!"
We went into a local coffee shop, in part for a drink, in part for parking validation. I had an excellent iced chai. He kept flashing the lady behind the counter a huge, dimpled grin. She asked if he was allowed to have sweets. I said yes, so she gave him a chocolate chunk cookie. He lit up at that! He leaned in as if to hug her, so she came around the counter. I let him out of the stroller at that point, since we were safely contained in the coffee shop. There was music in the background and as soon as he noticed it, his little booty started wiggling and shaking! They got a big kick out of him in there. He was passing out high fives, blown kisses, and big hugs like they were, well, free, which they were. We lingered in there a while, then headed back out.
He didn't seem to be interested in riding in the stroller, so I strapped his bearhug (aka leash) on and walked back out into the sunshine. He promptly saw three ladies standing on the sidewalk outside another establishment and decided they needed hugging, too. We then headed back home.
He was a delightful companion to spend an afternoon with in downtown KC. I used to work close to downtown and often ran down there. So it felt like heading back to my old stomping grounds. We were both invigorated by our time in the city. And I think he spread some love and sunshine around downtown KC, even more than the sun that was already shining today.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Day 1 of Resuming Exercise
Well, I did the first day of the training regimen for my 5k in a couple of months. I am a touch sore, now that I've sat down for a bit. But I'm excited to say that I'm not in nearly as bad of shape as I anticipated! I didn't struggle at all during the workout. And I was tempted to push it a little longer, farther, and harder. But I read the warnings against it and am going to be patient and stick with the program. Just because today was easy doesn't mean there isn't a day coming that's going to kick my hiney.
But I was really encouraged by how good it felt. Every time I start exercising, I wonder why I ever quit in the first place. I never have a good and justifiable reason. I enjoyed the run. But I will admit, it felt really strange when I started out. I don't remember the last time I went on a walk, especially around our neighborhood, without my son. So it was very bizarre to set out sans stroller and toddler. I actually felt like I was missing or forgot something!
But it was also very pleasant and rejuvenating to embrace some time in the great outdoors by myself. I don't think my son or husband were complaining, though. They were enjoying time in the front yard, swinging golf clubs, throwing footballs and softballs, and doing who knows whatever fathers and sons do. I love that they enjoy their time together so much.
But I was really encouraged by how good it felt. Every time I start exercising, I wonder why I ever quit in the first place. I never have a good and justifiable reason. I enjoyed the run. But I will admit, it felt really strange when I started out. I don't remember the last time I went on a walk, especially around our neighborhood, without my son. So it was very bizarre to set out sans stroller and toddler. I actually felt like I was missing or forgot something!
But it was also very pleasant and rejuvenating to embrace some time in the great outdoors by myself. I don't think my son or husband were complaining, though. They were enjoying time in the front yard, swinging golf clubs, throwing footballs and softballs, and doing who knows whatever fathers and sons do. I love that they enjoy their time together so much.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Two Hot Dates in Two Nights!
To any parent who thinks dates with their spouse are unimportant, let me encourage you otherwise! This past Friday evening, I went with my handsome hubby to see "The Avengers" along with another couple. We had a wonderful time and really enjoyed the movie, as well as dinner afterwards. The movie was just fun and fantastic. Yes, part of the evening was sitting side by side in a theater. But even that was wonderful. Having the opportunity to sit with my head on his chest or even holding his hand without the concern of "did I hear the child" or getting interrupted by said child was precious. Having something new that we shared and something new to talk about is always good. The food and overall company was great.
And dates don't have to be expensive. Whether it's going to a driving range, bowling, or a picnic in the park or just dressing up for a free concert around town, getting away from the house and getting out together is so important. I know many people think home date nights are wonderful, too. And I don't disagree. Any time spent together is healthy and important. But for me, at least, it's so nice to be able to turn off the "to-do list" part of my brain. If I'm not at home, I don't pay attention to if there are dishes or laundry to be done. I don't get distracted by the "oh, I need to make sure I run that errand or do this tomorrow." I don't decide to watch tv or do something equally mind-numbing and alone.
Not to mention, it's just awesome to be able to pay attention to my husband and feel that same undivided attention from him. It's great to be able to get dolled up (even if it's just jeans) and feel pretty.
But as wonderful as one-on-one spouse time is, one-on-one time with the kiddo or kiddos is important as well. So after my hot date Friday night, I had a date night with my adorable son. Or should I say, "date knight," sponsored by Chik-Fil-A. They had the cow, who was wearing a knight hood, along with a man dressed as a knight, a free photo booth, and a free cookie sundae for each of us! All we had to buy was dinner, which was just fine by me! They also had a shield for him to color, a beautiful and fragrant red carnation they gave him to give me, and talking points for good conversations between mothers and sons. (That night was mother-son; next month, their hosting father-daughter.)
As silly as it may sound, as I looked across the table at my son sitting across from me, instead of beside me, I welled up with tears. I know I have my son with me all day every day. But there was something so sweet and special and the mindset of knowing it was a "date." I look forward to using those ideas and talking points with my son when he's a little older. And I have photographs of our first date together. I'll put them next to the photograph I have of Lino and I's first post-child date.
I have two special guys. And I have had an incredible weekend, enjoying one-on-one time with each of them. I am a blessed, blessed woman.
And dates don't have to be expensive. Whether it's going to a driving range, bowling, or a picnic in the park or just dressing up for a free concert around town, getting away from the house and getting out together is so important. I know many people think home date nights are wonderful, too. And I don't disagree. Any time spent together is healthy and important. But for me, at least, it's so nice to be able to turn off the "to-do list" part of my brain. If I'm not at home, I don't pay attention to if there are dishes or laundry to be done. I don't get distracted by the "oh, I need to make sure I run that errand or do this tomorrow." I don't decide to watch tv or do something equally mind-numbing and alone.
Not to mention, it's just awesome to be able to pay attention to my husband and feel that same undivided attention from him. It's great to be able to get dolled up (even if it's just jeans) and feel pretty.
But as wonderful as one-on-one spouse time is, one-on-one time with the kiddo or kiddos is important as well. So after my hot date Friday night, I had a date night with my adorable son. Or should I say, "date knight," sponsored by Chik-Fil-A. They had the cow, who was wearing a knight hood, along with a man dressed as a knight, a free photo booth, and a free cookie sundae for each of us! All we had to buy was dinner, which was just fine by me! They also had a shield for him to color, a beautiful and fragrant red carnation they gave him to give me, and talking points for good conversations between mothers and sons. (That night was mother-son; next month, their hosting father-daughter.)
As silly as it may sound, as I looked across the table at my son sitting across from me, instead of beside me, I welled up with tears. I know I have my son with me all day every day. But there was something so sweet and special and the mindset of knowing it was a "date." I look forward to using those ideas and talking points with my son when he's a little older. And I have photographs of our first date together. I'll put them next to the photograph I have of Lino and I's first post-child date.
I have two special guys. And I have had an incredible weekend, enjoying one-on-one time with each of them. I am a blessed, blessed woman.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Busy!
We had a ridiculously busy day today! We painted, played in mud, had therapy, played at the park, napped, did laundry (well, I did,) vacuumed (he helped,) and made dinner. Oh, and washed dishes. Oh, and...
Ok, so that's all we did today. But it still seemed busy. And fantastic. We had a great time today. I'm hoping to make my life busier than it already is. I signed up for a 5k run. I haven't run in, well, a really long time. But I enjoyed it when I did. And I'm badly out of shape. So committing to something is just the ticket for me. Plus it's not an unreasonable distance.
Now I just have to figure out time to start running. I shudder at the thought of setting the alarm to do it before my guys wake up. But I also am not a huge fan of actually trying to get a good run in while using the stroller and worrying about the little guy. Nor do I really want to wait until I'm tired from the day and do it after the kid's in bed. And I can't exactly leave the knucklehead unattended.
So...I guess the alarm's going to start seeing some use. But tomorrow's Friday and that just seems ridiculous to start training on a Friday. Yeah, I'm gonna give myself three extra days of sleep and start on Monday. Plus it'll give me time to buy running shorts. And by "running shorts," I don't mean those skimpy ones that you wear when you have killer gams from running for the past twenty years. I mean long shorts that cover my less than fabulous thighs but that are more comfortable than running in jeans.
Look for an exciting (or exhausted) update on Monday as to how the run went. And say a little prayer for me!
Ok, so that's all we did today. But it still seemed busy. And fantastic. We had a great time today. I'm hoping to make my life busier than it already is. I signed up for a 5k run. I haven't run in, well, a really long time. But I enjoyed it when I did. And I'm badly out of shape. So committing to something is just the ticket for me. Plus it's not an unreasonable distance.
Now I just have to figure out time to start running. I shudder at the thought of setting the alarm to do it before my guys wake up. But I also am not a huge fan of actually trying to get a good run in while using the stroller and worrying about the little guy. Nor do I really want to wait until I'm tired from the day and do it after the kid's in bed. And I can't exactly leave the knucklehead unattended.
So...I guess the alarm's going to start seeing some use. But tomorrow's Friday and that just seems ridiculous to start training on a Friday. Yeah, I'm gonna give myself three extra days of sleep and start on Monday. Plus it'll give me time to buy running shorts. And by "running shorts," I don't mean those skimpy ones that you wear when you have killer gams from running for the past twenty years. I mean long shorts that cover my less than fabulous thighs but that are more comfortable than running in jeans.
Look for an exciting (or exhausted) update on Monday as to how the run went. And say a little prayer for me!
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
My Squirrely Squirrel
This kid cracks me up! This morning, we are sitting in the den, enjoying our breakfasts and playing. He decides to wander off, which isn't unusual. I think he's going to do his standard walk to the end of the dining room, then come run at me full force. After a minute of silence (which is seldom a good thing) I go check on him. He's sitting quietly on the couch in the living room. Not doing anything. Just sitting. I smile at him and tell him he's fine to be there. No biggie, right?
I walk away, curious about what is going through his head. A couple of minutes later, I hear him talking to himself. So I go peek again. Yeah, he's no longer sitting quietly. He's removed the couch cushion and is jumping and walking around on the couch sans pillows. I don't know why. But he seems to think it's pretty darn fun. And funny. He's just cackling away as if he's as funny as...well, I don't know. But a funny guy!
I walk away with a smile, only to be followed back into the den, greeted with a grin and open arms begging to be picked up and hugged! He has his trying moments (like the fit he threw earlier this morning for no particular discernible reason.) But everyone should have, or at least periodically borrow, one of these! He's such an ego boost! I mean, it's pretty hard to have an extended bad mood with this knucklehead around. If he has one gift, one talent in life, he makes people feel loved.
I should definitely take some lessons from my squirrely squirrel.
I walk away, curious about what is going through his head. A couple of minutes later, I hear him talking to himself. So I go peek again. Yeah, he's no longer sitting quietly. He's removed the couch cushion and is jumping and walking around on the couch sans pillows. I don't know why. But he seems to think it's pretty darn fun. And funny. He's just cackling away as if he's as funny as...well, I don't know. But a funny guy!
I walk away with a smile, only to be followed back into the den, greeted with a grin and open arms begging to be picked up and hugged! He has his trying moments (like the fit he threw earlier this morning for no particular discernible reason.) But everyone should have, or at least periodically borrow, one of these! He's such an ego boost! I mean, it's pretty hard to have an extended bad mood with this knucklehead around. If he has one gift, one talent in life, he makes people feel loved.
I should definitely take some lessons from my squirrely squirrel.
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