Category: moms

November 5, 2011

DIY Baby Milestone Book

Two of my dearest friends recently brought brand new additions into their homes. For their baby showers, I designed two little books for each of them. One was a baby milestone book and the other was a letter-a-year book. I think it’s much too difficult to keep up with baby milestones in a big scrapbook or other complicated way, especially with the culture shock that a new baby adds to daily life. To make it easy for them, I made one page for each month, printed with journal lines for a quick jot. Even the most harried mommies amongst us can handle that, right? That is, if we remember…

The back of the book had a few pages to reminisce about other things, such as “Our Favorite Lullabies” and “Our Family Tree.” I also included a little envelope for the first lock of hair.

The second book was designed with one pocket for each of the child’s birthdays through age 18. And each pocket was furnished with one sheet of writing paper. The idea is to write a quick note to your child on each birthday about what the past year meant to you and to let your heart out. Then, when they’re old enough to appreciate it, you can share the stack of letters with them. I do this every year for my son, and I thought I would share this wonderful tradition with my good friends and blog readers.

For each, I bought a stack of baby-themed cardstock from Hobby Lobby. I punched a hole in the corner of each sheet and strung them through a binder clip. The stamped words throughout were made from a small set of letter stampers. I embellished the pages with a few baby-themed stickers and other ephemera, but I wanted to keep it fairly simple. I just can’t wait to see what the ladies do with them!

October 8, 2011

Moms Criticizing Other Moms

“I don’t mean to interfere or anything” Really? You could’ve fooled me. “You know, there’s a strong undertow right next to this island.” A woman drove past, reversed, got out of her car, and crossed a foot bridge just to tell me this.

“Um, no. I didn’t know that.” I reply, trying not to roll my eyes like an irresponsible teenager.

“I wouldn’t let those kids climb those rocks like that. If they fall in, you’re never going to see them again.”

“Well, of course, I’m not letting them go past a certain point” (And I’m sitting right here within arm’s reach of them. And there’s at least 20 feet of slowly-sloping rocks they’d have to climb down and forcefully throw themselves in to actually make it in the water. And you can see the water is completely still at the bottom of the ledge. And I want these kids to experience nature, to climb, to explore, to practice their agility, to grow stronger, etc. I refuse to shelter them from every single imagined danger there is. Believe me, my stomach already does cartwheels every time my son climbs a ladder at a simple playground.)

“Yeah, but they could fall in and that current would pull them right under.”

“I assure you, I’m not going to let anything happen to these boys.” I say with as much conviction as I’ve ever had in my life.

“Well, I hope so.” She says, as though there’s even a chance that this might not be so.

What is the deal with moms criticizing other moms as though we’re all hapless waifs trying everything we can do to purposefully hurt our children? Please, stop! My love for my child runs deeper than anything I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I would, without a second thought, put my body in front of a bullet for him. If fact, I would McGuyver whatever I could within reach and contort my body into impossible positions to stop anything from hurting my child. This I assure you with my entire heart, body and soul.

In spite of this, I could list numerous incidents where other moms (strangers) have come up to me to tell me that I was doing something wrong. I don’t know whether it’s because I’m a younger mom (no one has EVER dared to say anything to my husband or mom) or because mothers just feel a certain entitlement-of-the-wise to interfere, but several people have offered their “input” about my parenting skills. And it makes my blood boil every time. I probably shouldn’t take it so personally, but the entire issue of moms criticizing other moms seems to be trending. It’s not just me. It’s other moms I know and even moms I don’t know.

I mean, does our utmost devotion to our beautiful creations mean nothing? Does our obsessive tending, nurturing, directing, teaching, minding, worrying, and guiding count for nothing? Don’t our overly-obsessive thoughts about what’s best for our children count for anyting? If they sneeze once, we stay awake at night watching them, making sure they’re breathing. We shape our entire existences around our children. Our life goals are centered around their care and wellbeing.

Please, unless you have good reason to believe that someone is physically or emotionally abusing a child (which makes me sick to my stomach), or unless she explicitely requests your input, refrain from criticizing another woman about how she’s raising her child. Be assured that she is doing the best that she can and her mother-in-law is probably already on her case about it anyway. Maybe instead you could give her a pat on the back and a compliment. Those displays of motherly affection are, ironically, all-too-rare.

September 20, 2011

Peanut Picnics #3

This week I chose a local school ground for our picnic. Behind the school is one of the best playgrounds in town. But you can’t see any of it from the road, so you’d never know. Behind the playground is a humongous open field for soccer, frolicking and other games. Then, behind that, is a chunk of woods with well-managed trails.

However, the boys were not convinced. They saw playground toys and only wanted toys. With a little “we’ll go home if you’re not going to listen,” I got them to indulge me (mwahaha) and follow me to the opening. When they saw the mysterious pathways and beautiful meadow grasses and flowers, they got excited, like I knew they would. We came upon a shelter filled with picnic tables nestled in a corner of the woods. Perfect!

We spread out our food and got to work on supper. This is one of the hardest parts of our picnics. With so much anticipation for what they’re going to see and where they’re going to play, it takes quite a lot of willpower and self-control to actually eat.

See what I mean? But those goofy goons finally finished and we made our way through some of the trails. The boys just had to carry their own lunch boxes. Grandma made sure they each had their own brand new lunch box for these weekly trips. Grandma’s the best.

The ambiance was complete with the smell from the wildfires happening hundreds of miles away in Minnesota. The autumn winds brought the campfire smell and a faint haze to our corner of Wisconsin that day.

We were almost to the end of the trail when my son said, “there’s a deer.” He sometimes points out pretend deer when we’re in the woods just for fun, so I kept going. Then, I looked back and had to look again. Well, I’ll be… There stood a beautiful doe. She must be well-adapted to humans, because she stood in the same spot while we talked to her and took pictures.

Then, of course, we had to hit up the playground. I had one little Spider Monkey climbing a web-like rope contraption and another checking out each and every slide. I took a moment to get “up to the sky” on a swing. My stomach had a lot more butterflies in it than I ever remember having.

I was busy reflecting on these great experiences we are having every week. Being outdoors away from TV, steeping ourselves in nature, spending quality time with the kiddos, being active, exploring new territory, and spending very little moola…it feels like an adventure in happiness every week. And it’s just as simple as carving out one night a week, when my husband is away, to visit a different park. Magnificent! Give it a try!

August 31, 2011

Peanut Picnics #1

As long as the weather remains bearable, I will be taking my two favorite little Peanuts on a picnic every Tuesday night. My husband went back to school and has a night class that leaves us apart from the time I get home from work to the time I drop into bed. I thought it would be a fun idea to take my son and nephew to a new localle around town for each picnic. I’ve been making a mental checklist of places for awhile now. Last night, we hit the gazebo at a local park because it was on the verge of raining. See, I have a few “backup” places in mind too so the rain can’t stop us.

I threw a few Lunchables in the bag for the kiddos and a sandwich for me and off we went.

These two kids have such extremes in the hair department. One gets comments for his near-white albino-like hair and one gets compliments for his shiny copper top.

After they were done eating, and we had shoo’d away the lone bee that wanted our juice, we made our way over to the nearby playground. Climbing the trees seemed like more fun than the slides!

And blowing dandelions. I love how kids pick up on simple things like this. You show them once and they remember it for a lifetime. I mean, he had no idea about this simple childhood pleasure of dandelion-blowing until one day we were stuck in the backyard one day with nothing to do. Instant entertainment. Makes me think about all the wonderful I’d like to teach him.

My basic requirements as a mother: keep those babies well-fed and happy. Here’s the evidence that I’m doing a fine job.

Mental notes for next time:

1. Find a nice reusable tablecloth for the questionable picnic tables around town. This time, we made sure we kept everything on top of plastic baggies and Lunchable trays.

2. I’m still trying to find a cute old quilt to throw on the ground anywhere we decide to munch or hang out. We have an old off-white blanket that we use for the dog in the car, but I think I’d like something a little more memorable or whimsical.

3. Juice=Bee Catcher. Lets try chocolate milk or airtight water bottles next time.

January 14, 2011

What a Nightmare

My little bambino has been mighty sick lately. He’s on his way to the doc right now. But the thing that concerns me most is his apparent nightmare two nights ago. I mean, the Lion King hyenas are a little scary and sometimes daddy watches something questionable, but it seems odd that a child with a pretty limited vocabulary and teeny tiny set of experiences could have such a harrowing nightmare that he picked his way in complete darkness to our bedside. He usually doesn’t leave his bed until someone goes to get him. Finding him whimpering next to my bed was probably just as scary to me as it was to him to have such a nightmare, because it just kills me when he experiences such angst. Poor little guy.

So, knowing me, I had to Google “toddler nightmares” the next day because I had no idea how to approach this uncharted territory. I don’t like to just ignore seemingly arbitrary things like this and I’m all about making things better for my family. The best advice I found is to ask your toddler briefly what’s going on, and then change their thoughts. Go downstairs and get a glass of milk and read them another story. I like to check for monsters and pretend to eat them if the little guy suspects there are any lurking under his bed. This seems to reassure him. But there’s nothing worse than being short with a toddler, so a little empathy and back-stroking go a long way. We now have a night light for his room and leave his door open so that he feels more secure.

There’s a lot of irony with being a parent. While we’re busy reassuring our little people that everything is OK, we’re secretly worrying about upcoming bills, strange vehicle sputters, the health of our elders, our work relationships, and then some. Those petty nightmares seem to pale in comparison to real encounters with death and poverty. However, it is because of a toddler’s lack of experience that those worries derived from nightmares feel just as potent as our biggest adult fears. It really puts things into perspective, as they say.

This incident also provides a lesson in thought re-patterning. I like the idea of acknowledging bad feelings and then redirecting thoughts to other more pleasant and productive things. In the real world, empathy and active listening go a long way too. It’s amazing what you can learn from raising a child. More and more, these experiences reiterate the things I’ve learned in my own life.

This is also a lesson in the active imaginations of children. When we think they’re not looking or paying attention, they’re really actively absorbing more than we realize. We’re going to have to be much more proactive about screening our television and word choices. My husband and I might just have to start playing the quarter game pretty soon too. Our potty mouths might get us into trouble one of these days…

January 14, 2011

Happy Blogiversary to Me!

Well, today marks the first year anniversary of my first post in the blogosphere and it feels truly inspiring. Not only am I, myself, another year stronger, but so are my words. Sometimes just getting into the habit of writing can be a struggle. But this personal place allows me to explore ideas in an informal, yet sometimes informative way. And once I get into that routine habit of writing, the ideas swirl around in my mind much more freely which, in turn, enriches my life and my writing and the momentum continues to forge ahead.

This coming year, I plan to get a little bit more technical with this blog stuff. I know, I know. I need pictures. I need Technorati to pick me up. I need to learn a little bit more about html coding and such so that I can deck these walls with extra emphasis. This is a whole new world to me. That’s goal number one.

Goal number two is to blog more frequently. As I said above, the more I write, the more I start to piece things together in my head and the more receptive I am to my environment and world. It’s good for the blog and it’s good for me. And hopefully it’s good for someone else out there.

I blog because I love the freedom of expression it gives me. It’s cathartic in some ways and soul-enriching in others. I also love the outlet this blog offers me to express what I’ve learned to everyday people with similar interests and concerns. I am a complete fitness junkie, devoted momma and writing fanatic among many other things. And my passion is for my words and I to reach out and to make connections with people. So, we move into this second year with abundant anticipation and enthusiasm.

Take a second to peruse some of my favorites from this past year:

1. Add more roughage to your diet with these tips.
2. A personal tidbit about motherhood
3. My Ultimate Thrifty Guide to getting fit
4. My best advice for getting into a fitness habit is writing a note like this to yourself.

May 5, 2010

Our Kids Live on the Wrong Side of the Tracks

We definitely live on a less savory side of town. A few blocks either way, and we’re in a little bit crustier surroundings than we’d like to expect. Fights heard through open windows are raspier and more public, lawn “care” is a word used much more loosely, dogs look a little more menacing, eff-bombs are dropped at a higher frequency, homes are marred by more broken windows and passing faces look slightly more hardened. Sometimes the only thing that’s the same as the manicured lot is the smell of fabric softener coming from the basements.

When a rock was thrown through a neighbor’s window last year, just for entertainment, even my husband commented that we need to get out of here. We generally feel safe with the presence of our pit bull, but I’m not sure how I’d feel without him. Walking the baby in his buggy at twilight is not as frothy as it sounds in these parts. You bring along your cell phone and rough-looking dog and throw your shoulders back as special unwritten signage that you won’t be messed with.

Protecting my kid is the basis of nearly every single decision or act I make on a daily basis. When the tornado sirens went off last night, the only thing I wanted to do was teleport my son somewhere with blue skies, whether I was left behind or not. It’s funny these silly ways that parenthood changes you.

April 7, 2010

The Sweetest Dreams

Is it wrong to rue that day when nap-time comes to an end? It hasn’t happened yet, but I have this awful fear about how time flies too fast and this good thing will come to an end. For those three sweet hours, that 24-hour parental responsibility seems a little bit more manageable. Little tasks that prove impossible with a mommy-reliant Little One toddling about are completed, novels are revisited, marriages resurface and the house is again quiet.

I love love love being a mom. But sometimes that nap-time respite is required for sanity and retrieving my bearings. They leave mommy feeling rejuvenated and remind mommy about her valuable roles outside of mommyhood.

So far, my son likes to sleep. The 20-month-old drifts into REM for a solid three hours most of the time, on top of the 11 straight hours at night. I only get to enjoy these three hours on weekends because of my dear friend, Full-Time Work. So, my “me time” is limited. But this heaven-sent, built-in babysitter does all the work for me. I get to bring my own sweet dreams to realization when those little peepers are closed. I just can’t leave the house.

February 25, 2010

Toddler-fy your Flight

If you’re a mommy looking for tips for taking a toddler on a flight, here are my tips from first-hand experience a short 2 months ago. Now, my son likes toys to a point. A very small point. A few minutes max. This worried me for his first flight…on a lap, no less. I was sure he’d squirm his way out and bother dozens of aisle-seaters, but he actually did better than expected. The key was to have several “activities” lined up for him, one after the other. Our flight also happened to be during nap time, another good tip if your child is able to fall asleep in your arms.

1. Wear the child out at the airport before boarding. After all, you do have two hours to kill. We walked, looked in stores, looked out every window in the place watching airplanes and workers, found another young boy to talk to for awhile and it was magical how he fell asleep during takeoff.

2. Change the child just before the airplane starts boarding.

3. Take a bottle/sippy cup with for all the ear popping. I think our son finally figured out that drinking made him feel better. Also, don’t forget their lovies (Blanky) so they feel more comfortable.

4. Encourage your child to watch out the window for as long as it holds their attention. Point things out and explain the flight to them for extra interest.

5. Bring along a meal to feed the child. This can eat up at least a half hour. Little snacks here and there help as well. Just be sure it’s nothing too messy and you brought a bib.

6. Bring along a Magna Doodle and a few books. Also a few blank sheets of paper and a small carton of crayons. It’s difficult to pack the whole toy box, so just pick a few smaller items that have the most potential to hold the child’s interest. Drawings do quite well in little space.

7. Pack your iPod® and let them in on the head boppin’. They’ll get a kick out of listening to your music.

8. Page through the in-flight magazines and fliers. Pointing out airplanes, doggies, and even refrigerators will keep them occupied for some time. Better yet, pack their favorite Highlights or age-appropriate magazine.

9. Some people will give you dirty looks when your toddler kicks their seat a few times (sorry, I tried to keep the little kickers contained, but sometimes it just happens), but a few will coo. Let them coo for as long as they like. My socialite son soaks it up, especially when it’s someone he’s never met before.

10. If there’s an open seat next to you and the flight attendants allow it, try buckling your child in to that seat to keep him “in place.” Our son didn’t even try to squirm out when we tried this. He somehow knew the seat belt meant business.

11. Pack your carry on with a fresh set of clothes, a stack of diapers and wipes. This saved us on BOTH flights. Don’t underestimate the importance of this seemingly no-brainer.

These are what worked for us. But I have absolutely no tips for changing a child’s diaper in-flight. Good luck with that!

February 17, 2010

Home Sweet Nest

There’s no force greater than a mother’s nesting instinct.

I mean, I have never been more inclined to remove the dust from the baseboards or remove every stray string from my home as I have since I was “with child”.

No one can stop me when a small tidying-up project turns into a whirlwind rid-a-thon. As I’ve explained in a previous post, those little piles of junk provide great threatening pressure to my life-filled chest. They can also pose a threat to that small person that toddles around them. Not just physically, but emotionally. I mean, I don’t want this boy to grow up without seeing the value in the things around him. I want him to take care of his home. I want to prime him to be a responsible respectable young man who values order in his life, especially for the benefit of any future partners. So, I have to set an example for him by taking at least a little bit of care of our things.

Physical dangers do exist as well, I admit. I can’t tell you how worried I was after we put fiberglass insulation in the attic. After vacuuming below the door several times, I still worried about the microscopic pieces that still must be embedded in the carpet and what would happen if the baby got a piece stuck in a tiny digit and we wouldn’t be able to see it nor would he be able to tell us where it hurt. It would just kill me if our carelessness hurt him.

So, the nesting instinct is also married to that ruthless polygamist Guilt. When I found remnants of larvae (gasp!) in an old can of instant cocoa mix, I instantly pegged myself as a careless mother.

Who else thinks about how, after the dog pees on his foot during a walk, he will clean most of it off in the snow during the 3 mile trek, but will come home with God-only-knows-what-else on his feet and walk all over the house and the baby will pick up a banana from said floor and ingest it? And who gives their dog a bath more than once or twice a month anyway? Mommies have been blessed (cursed?) with such instincts for ages to keep their children safe.

Really, nesting is a force that cannot be reckoned with. Only after exhausting myself once in a while with tile and a bottle of bleach, and scouring away at some of that instinct, can I finally sit back and allow the 10-second-rule to apply. Only after!