This past Thursday my younger son (YS) had a pajama day at preschool, or as we call it in our house a no underwear or commando day. When our older son (OS) was YS's age, he wasn't night time potty trained. The morning of the preschool pj day, he took off the overnight pull-up, put on underwear and put his pajama bottoms back on. YS however, has been night time trained for a while. Thus no need to remove a pull-up and no forced opportunity to add underwear.
When I dropped YS off at preschool, I explained to the teacher that Pajama Day was synonymous with No Underwear Day and that there was a pair of underwear in his backpack in case it was a problem. It of course wasn't. A former kindergarten teacher friend of mine told me that on any given day there's at least one student not wearing underwear. She also said something about the teachers, but I'll leave that to you.
Without revealing anyone's secrets, I will say that I opened up about this story to a lot of people, and in return I learned a lot about whether various people wear underwear at night...or during the day for that matter. The stories just kept on coming free throughout this weekend. The phrase "let it all air out" came up a lot.
As for what I do, well I may be a blogger but I'm not going to spill that secret! However, I'll leave you with an additional lesson learned.
A. Elliot's Relevant Lesson Learned: If you need to get a conversation going, discussing whether or not one should wear underwear to bed at night will do the trick.
A. Elliot's Unrelated Lesson Learned: If you decide to wax part of your face because your 6 year old lists you as one of the people he knows who has a mustache, be aware that doing so will hurt a lot.
Our kids have never spent a night away from us. Let me re-phrase that. We've never spent a night away from our kids. Notice the emphasis is on the Big Giraffe and me!
When our older son (OS) was younger, he did spend a night here and there with a friend which was wonderful. My mom also came to stay with him a couple times so that we could get away for the weekend. However, once we had two, it just became a lot more complicated, particularly because our friends all had at least two kids.
About a year ago I was talking with a friend who also has two kids and an out-of-state family about what he does to get away with his wife. He said that whenever his family comes to visit, they stay for at least a week so that there's plenty of time to spend with him and his wife and also time so that they can get away and the family can spend time with the kids. When he first told me about it, I thought it was a little..well...rude. I mean his family is presumably coming to see him. He pointed out that his family doesn't see it like that since they enjoy spending time alone with his kids.
I discussed this with a couple of other people that I know with out-of-state families and they said that they do the same thing. Who knew! Apparently not me. They also often extend their trips to visit family by a night or two so that they can stay in a hotel over by their families while their families get stuck babysitting the kids spend quality time with their kids.
I ran this by some family members and they seemed to really like this idea. The Big Giraffe and I were excited. We would finally be able to get away even if it is only to some dinky hotel in Worcester or the Chicago suburbs. However, just like with the best of plans, it just hasn't worked out. I think the longest we've had family visit us has been a couple of nights, and our visits to them do not last any longer. When that visiting time is jam packed with activities, there is little extra time available. It also becomes an added expense when we're already paying to travel to the Midwest at the same time.
We've had a few friends volunteer to watch our kids for us recently. For my birthday I told the Big Giraffe that what I would really like is to be able to go away for a night even if we stay here. There's a lot to be said for getting to stay in your quiet house. There were many emails between the Big Giraffe and my friends, a rumor of a few fights between the Big Giraffe and me, and we now have an official get away weekend! Sally HP will be watching the boys one night and my triathlon training buddy will be taking the boys the next night. Some family friends have also volunteered to watch the boys for...gasp here...several nights in a row so we can go away for our ten year anniversary!
I entered the last year of my early thirties yesterday. Oh come on! 34 is still early thirties. At least that's what I've been telling myself! Some birthdays are obviously better than others. This one takes the cake, so to speak, for being one of the best ever. Yes, it was really that good!
It started on Thursday. Sally HP had previously IM'd me to tell me that she would be picking me up at 6:45. No questions allowed. I tried to inquire whether or not I should eat dinner and was accused of fishing for information. I ate a PB&J at 5 pm.
At 6:45 she and my triathlon training buddy picked me up. Solely because they needed directions, they told me where we were going: The Citizen in Worcester. It's a restaurant that specializes in cheese, chocolate and wine. It's like going to a Chinese restaurant in that the more people you go with, the more different types of dishes (in this case cheese and chocolate) you can order to share. Three friends met us there. I had a fabulous time! Chocolate, cheese, wine and friends. It doesn't get much better than that! Yeah, I know I'm supposed to say some sort of motherly line about how if only my family could have been there, blah blah. Not happening! Needless to say, I didn't work out on Friday!
Once a year my moms group has a spa day. Usually that's my birthday present although it isn't necessarily on my birthday. This year it happened to fall on Saturday. After I worked out and the Big Giraffe and I took the boys to swim lessons, I headed over and spent a few hours totally relaxing. I had a facial* followed by hanging out with friends and having fruit, more cheese and of course wine. Hmm...that's a lot of cheese (not wine though)!
Sunday was my actual birthday. I got to sleep in and than after a lunch where no cheese was involved, we had birthday cake and I was able to run some errands sans kiddos. CVS was irritatingly slow, but again since I was without children, it wasn't such a big deal. Later on in the evening, I discovered that a pricey restaurant that I had always wanted to try had a Sunday priced fixed dinner. The Big Giraffe had already arranged a babysitter and was able to make reservations at the new restaurant. We had a fantastic time. Later on that night I put on my new anti-aging night cream. No, I'm not kidding about that. My skin has been unbelievably dry lately. The Big Giraffe was disturbed when I first told him about it because he was envisioning cold cream. Lotion, as in it dissolves into your skin! Of course there were phone calls and emails from family and friends, not to mention Facebook.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: 34 is a great age, even if it does require night time lotion!
*Since I am now the mature age of 34, I decided not to go with a boob massage again at least for this year!
Glad that you had a happy birthday, and I'm sorry that I missed you. By the way, I totally want to go to that cheese and chocolate place next time I come up to see. And you'll have to let me know how that chocolate sea salt caramel bar is.
I like to say that my aunt is a live copy of Our Bodies Ourselves. By that I don't mean that she is an open book. Rather, throughout the years she has given me honest information about what happens to our bodies as we age. She tells me all the obvious things like at 35 I'll have to get a mammogram, but she's also told me a lot of things that no one ever talks about like floaties in your eyes when you're in your 50's or your sphincter loosening as you get older. Maybe you flinched, but did you really know that loud gas was just a couple decades away? I always think of really old people.
The most recent life lesson learned was about eyebrows. Listen up because you're probably not going to hear about this from other moms on the soccer field. As you age, weird things start to happen with your eyebrows. There are two possible facets, and some people only experience one or experience both starting at different times. The first facet of funky eyebrow happening is getting white hairs in your eyebrows. Thankfully I have had yet to experience this one, although I will turn 34 next month...You may decide to just pluck them. Once one or two eyebrow hairs, right? Just hold that thought for a minute.
The second stage of strange eyebrow happenings is that your eyebrow hairs start to stick out. That's right out! Like an outie belly button. They may also be courser hence their ability to stick out. Again, you may just decide to pluck them.
So what's the problem? The answer is the torch of knowledge that my aunt has passed to me that I pass to you. At some point if you pluck all the white hairs and all the pipecleaner hairs, which of course may be tempting to do if they're a combo pack, you will either have no more eyebrows or you will have large bald spots. If you don't do something though you will look in the mirror one day and see Andy Rooney staring back at you.
So how to your solve this? First check out your eyebrows in the mirror on the back of the visor of the car or in a hotel because. Why in a hotel? Well most people blame the discomfort of travel for causing them not to look good in hotel mirrors. However, according to my aunt, the true cause is that hotel mirrors are great and picking up imperfections. When you start to notice eyebrow abnormalities, it's time to break down and spend the extra bucks on a makeup mirror. Then your real work begins.
Set up your mirror and grab a pair of nail scissors and an eyebrow pencil. Trim the spiky hairs and color in the white hairs if they bother you. As for myself, I spent a couple hours in the beauty salon getting highlights to hide my white hairs and had my eyebrows waxed so I thankfully no longer resemble Andy Rooney. Oddly enough though the hair dresser who's just 23 was complaining about these spiky eyebrow hairs that she's been getting. I told her about the makeup mirror and scissors.
I did learn one last, odd fact. Apparently barbers automatically trim men's eyebrows. In a way, however, that makes me even more perplexed. If barbers trim men's eyebrows, then what is the deal with Andy Rooney's eyebrows?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A makeup mirror and scissors are necessities, not desired gifts. I would not find it amusing, Big Giraffe, to receive them for my birthday.
Back to accepting another's reality.No matter how honest and well meant, each of us has our own body, and they do not react in exactly the same way. One person's body reactions to aging is not necessarily another's, just as our experiences in life are not anothers. Accepting someone else's reality may result in confusion to ourselves. 34 is just an infant in eternity.
I know I've written before about how impressed I am with my neti pot. I bought one last spring after it became the focus for more than 30 minutes of a book club meeting that I was hosting. I can't remember why we were discussing them but then again quite frankly I can't remember what book we were discussing either. I had heard of them before, but I had never seen one. The book club members who used them raved about them. They swore that I had walked by them numerous times but just never had noticed them. That is the mysterious way of the neti pot. Alright maybe I'm exaggerating slightly about the last part but lo and behold they really were in the cold medicine section of the pharmacy, and I must have walked by them several dozen times in my lifetime.
This Tuesday night happened to be book club. We read The Red Tent by Anita Diamant and had a really great conversation about it. It's one of the best books I've read in a while. Of course though there was a lot of laughing. The more I laughed the more I felt my voice give a little. It was probably from the laughing though, right? I mean we were laughing really hard. That's what I told myself on Wednesday too. I felt fine.
Thursday morning though my voice had begun to give out and by Thursday afternoon it was pretty much gone. I begun to refer to it as my sexy voice. Call me crazy, but the Big Giraffe didn't seem to find it very sexy. In fact, I noticed him edging away from me, when he was actually in the same room as me. I still felt alright though. I meticulously used my neti pot from Tuesday night through this morning. My voice is on its way back and, knock on wood, I have yet to develop a runny nose, cough or fever. I'm sure some of it is that I slept the sleep of someone with African Sleeping Sickness, but I give most of the credit to the neti pot.
Now of course I just have to remember to hide it again lest it become used as a toy teapot by the boys.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: I can't explain the mysteries of the neti pot, but it does work.
I lived in Hoboken, NJ for two years after college. While I loved where I lived, enjoyed my job and of course reveled in the whole social scene, I realized I was getting a little stressed out. Studying for the LSATs didn't help. I decided to take yoga.
Once a week for about two years I showed up for yoga at the Y. I would take my mat, get setup and enjoy an hour all to myself. While the class was really good for me, there are very few things in my life at which I have been worse. I was truly awful when I started doing yoga, and I was truly awful two years later when I moved out of Hoboken. I was even awful at prenatal yoga, which I tried briefly during my first pregnancy three years later.
Some of it was nervousness. For example, I have to confess that the first time we sent Omms to India, I tried hard to stifle a laugh. I did not succeed. I ended up being the crazy lady whom no one knows sitting there laughing out loud. Having to announce my color to the class didn't help either. I think I said I was chartreuse or something like that. The instructor paused for a moment and then went on take great delight in the next person's choice of color. The main problem, however, was that despite what the name of my blog might suggest, I am inflexible. (Hush up there, Big Giraffe! I mean my body not my personality!) Even when participating in multiple sports and in my best shape, my flexibility has been a huge weakness for me. My high school fencing coach made it her mission to work with me on it, and she was disappointed with how little I improved.
About a month ago, my triathlon training buddy told me she was going to start participating in a yoga class. She asked me if I wanted to join her. My first reaction was "no." There was no way I was going near a hot yoga class. Now technically her class is not a hot yoga class, but it follows immediately after one. She had warned me that the room is really hot. Why would I want to do that? After hearing for a couple of weeks how good it made her feel, I reflected on my own positive history with yoga and decided to give it a try.
Our family miracle for 2009 is that I actually managed to find my old yoga mat. No, not the one from Hoboken; the one from prenatal yoga. It was in the exact spot in our messy basement where I had left it 6 years ago! Unfortunately, the mat smelled somewhat musty, mainly because it had sat in our basement for so long. It went well with my yoga pants. The pants smelled like a dog had slept on them, mainly because a dog had slept on them.
When I first walked into the room, I couldn't get over how hot it was. A classmate informed me that it was in the low 90's. I immediately chose a spot by the open window. The same classmate was kind enough to warn me that my spot was actually in the front of the classroom. I immediately moved next to another window. Everyone dropped their mat and some special yoga towel with grips whose purpose I did not understand. They then began to rub down their mats with tree tree oil, apparently to help them relax. I also began to rub down my mat with tree oil to attempt to rid it of the damp basement smell. I figured alleviating the odor would be a huge source of relaxation. Any relaxation directly from the oil would be a nice side benefit.
Once the class started, I couldn't get over two things 1) How hard it was ) how much I sweated. I found myself slipping on my mat. I then understood why most of the students had that special towel. When some of the students were balanced with their feet on the back of their arms, I was doing the "modification." The modification involved me crouching down and sitting on a block. The teacher suggested adding a second block. I immediately did so. I still found it challenging. Needless to say my bridge did not go into a full back bend later on in the class!
Yes, I am still awful at yoga, and yes I was drenched by the end of the class. However, I really did enjoy it. I was even able to stretch further than I had been at the beginning. I also felt very relaxed...until I got into my car and the windows completely fogged. I couldn't see anything.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Bring a towel with grips to a hot yoga class or a yoga class right after hot yoga.
I take yoga and I am soooooo inflexible as well. But I don't care very much...usually in a forward bend where others put their hands on the mat, I'm somewhere dangling mine at kneelevel. When I'm supposed to stretch a leg, I never do.
But our class is quite relaxing, it helps me. And the average age of the people taking it is far higher than me. Nobody is dressed in the right outfits or so, which is cool.
we rarely do ooohms and that's good as I find them so weird. Positions , stretches and turns: ok I can see the body value for it and concentrating on those does clear my mind. Breathing excercises: ok I can see how that relaxes us. But chanting, colors, chakra's? Huh, no no not for me.
When I started this blog, it was to be able to talk about what it was like to formula feed a baby. However, I quickly realized that it also was a great way to let family and friends know what was going on with us. This is a post for them.
Today started out like a pretty regular Wednesday. I headed out to the gym and got home at my usual time. My routine is to walk in the door, wash my hands and sit down at the computer with a cup of coffee for about ten minutes before waking up the kids. You can imagine my surprise when I walked in and saw the contents from our junk drawer spread all over the kitchen floor. This was quickly followed by the pitter patter of little feet and an exclamation of "Hi, Mommy!" from my younger son (YS). He was wearing only a pajama shirt and eating Oreo cookies while scratching "himself." He's never gone downstairs by himself before today. Guess who's getting the safety doorknob put back on his doorknob?
I woke up my older son (OS), got both boys ready and had them sit down for breakfast. That's when I noticed that there was a bloody, pus and wax discharge coming out of OS's ear. It reeked. Seriously, it's been years since he's had an ear infection. After he finished picking at his breakfast, I put both boys in front of a movie as a special treat and went to call the doctor.
Our kitchen opens up into our living room. While I can see most of the room, I can see neither a large chair in the corner nor the kid's chair behind it where YS likes to sit when he watches TV. You can imagine my surprise when I turned around while on hold with the doctor's office and saw YS grinning proudly and announcing that he was a cat. I should clarify that he used my makeup to make himself a cat! Yes, he had used my mascara to draw whiskers, my eyeshadow for the nose, and my eyeliner I believe to draw the whiskers cats have above their eyes on his forehead. When I went upstairs I found that I had accidentaly left my makeup out in the bathroom. The mascara wand was in the concealer tube, and the concealor wand was in the mascara tube.
Y'S the cat than went off to watch the movie. I finally got through to the the doctor's office and was able to make an appointment. Then I scrubbed YS's face and, oddly enough, his arms which he had also done up (fur maybe?) and informed him that I needed to be able to see him for the rest of the day.
We went to the doctor's office. The nurse practitioner confirmed that OS had an ear infection and informed me that same infection likely caused OS's vomitting the other night. It's been years since he's had one. However, the eartubes that he got when he was 20 months old fell out, and she believes that there was a tiny hold left behind. This is apparently pretty common, and it tends to just heal on its own. OS was given the green light to not wear ear plugs anymore. Perhaps a little bath water got in there and caused the infection. OS doesn't ever run fevers with ear infections, and they never seem to bother him. In fact, even though his ear was weeping, it didn't hurt him at all.
The kids and I went to CVS where they insisted on playing musical chairs to a tune that was apparently in their own heads while the prescription was being filled. Since the store was empty, I just did the reasonable thing and pretended I had no idea who they were. We headed back home. The afternoon was fine except that YS commented a few times that he was cold.
I had planned on riding my bike this evening. I haven't been on it much this year, and my first triathlon of the season is on Sunday. The other night, I was pedaling up a hill past a parked car, when the chain popped off. I lost all momentum and barely got one foot out of the clipless pedals in time to avoid a fall. That's when I noticed my audience. Two teenagers in the parked car were making out.
When I took my bike in to the place where I had bought it for repairs, the store owner told me I wouldn't have any more problems with it. I was anxious to get out the door, but just when everything was ready, YS suddenly got sick everywhere. Guess OS had a bug after all. The Big Giraffe and I got him cleaned off and settled. Then I hit the streets to do a quick test of my fixed bike. You can imagine my surprise when I was going up a hill again, and all of a sudden the chain popped off again. Deja-vu. At least this time I didn't have an audience.
I'm sure you have a couple of questions. Let me answer them. Yes, I did take a picture of YS the cat. Yes, I did throw out the one remaining Oreo cookie. Yes, my kids did fight over the fact that I gave YS OS's custom designed barf bowl from yesterday since I was too tired to go downstairs to grab another container. Yes, I do have a fear that on Sunday my chain will pop off at the same time that I come down with the stomach flu. No, I'm not too worried about it happening in front of two teenagers making out. I'm worried about it happening in front of a couple hundred people!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Real life sometimes is better than fiction; particularly when it happens to someone you know in real life and not yourself!
* I wrote this a couple days ago but didn't get to publish it before I came down with a horrible case of the stomach flu that involved my doctor calling in a prescription for me.
Yesterday my younger son (YS) had a ENT appointment. I was a little skeptical because we were just there a few weeks ago and have another appointment for July. I pointed out that I had never been able to schedule more than one appointment at a time because the ENT typically decides when I should schedule YS's next appointment based on what he sees in the current appointment. However, they had all of the appointments in their computer. I wasn't surprised when the doctor came to examine him and remarked that he had just seen us and that YS wasn't supposed to come in again until July. I wonder whose appointment we got?
It turns out though that the suprise appointment was a good thing because I found out that YS's second ear tube had fallen out! Because he never had even one ear infection with the tubes, he doesn't need another set. I know I should remember exactly when he got his ear tubes, but of course I only recall that he was slightly over a year. I did write a post about it somewhere though, and I know he had his tubes for almost 2 years.
One surprise doctor's appointment was not enough for me. I ended up having to take my older son (OS) to see the pediatrician to check out some phantom stomach pains. $25 copay later, my instinct that OS needed to see the doctor because he was jealous of his brother's frequent doctor's visits was confirmed. I think that makes him one lucky kid, but he unfortunately disagrees.
Even though the appointment was scheduled under false pretenses, it turned out to be a good thing too because I found out that OS's other ear tube had fallen out! This one I know for sure. He got his ear tubes in at 20 months. He's now 5 years and 8 months old. Most ear tubes last between 6 months and 2 years. We were actually told if they weren't out by this spring that the ENT would schedule surgery to remove them. He's only had one ear infection in all those years so he doesn't need another set either.
It's official: we are earplug-free!!! That probably sounds a lot more exciting than it actually is. The truth of the matter is that I never really found the earplugs to be a big deal. I stash a set of the Mac's Children's Earplugs (they're great because they're bright orange so you can see from across the pool if one of them has fallen out (which they almost never do) in the diaper bag, bathroom with tub and, during the summer, in the car. Since OS was in diapers when I started carrying them around, I never found them inconvenient. However, I know I have been enjoying no longer carrying diapers around, so I imagine I will feel the same way about the ear plugs.
This has all come at a good time too and not just because summer is approaching. The Big Giraffe and I realized earlier today that there were new things to carry. That realization came after we looked around OS's soccer practice to identify the first time soccer parents this evening. Yes, we identified ourselves. How could we tell? We were one of the few sets of parents who didn't have those fold up chairs with us. We were so uncool! And more importantly, I would rather sit in a somewhat comfy chair for an hour than on cold grass. Why weren't these chairs on the kids' soccer practice equipment list between cleats and the ball? Thankfully OS is too young to be embarrassed by us! Those of you who haven't ventured into the world of soccer yet take note so that you can too can be in the know and part of the popular crowd.
At the end of the day, I am now left with two mysteries. Where did the no longer needed ear plugs actually go, and why does the Big Giraffe suddenly seem incapable of hearing anything I say to him?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Just when you think you have less to carry because you no longer need ear plugs, you suddenly have to carry around chairs.
Wow I'm amazed they let your OS's tubes stay in that long. They surgically removed my son's one remaining tube after 2 years...said they don't like to leave them in any longer than that.
I'm sure I commented before too, that we never had to use ear plugs either. Strange how different doctors are.
I can't believe my first season 2 triathlon is in a few weeks! I get excited thinking about how much fun it will be. The thrill of the adrenaline pumping through my body. The feeling of triumph as I cross the finish line. There's one feeling I'm hoping not to experience this season: the feeling that a pack of aliens is trying to break out of my intestines. Yes, that would be Runner's Gut. That little hidden "gem" that I didn't know about before my first triathlon. The shame of the running world. Fortunately I only experienced it after triathlons and two long runs when it was hot outside.
Last month I was over at a friend's house for lunch. She made some delicious butternut squash bisque. As my other friends and I exclaimed over the taste, she listed the ingredients. One of them was cream. I rarely make recipes requiring cream and when I do, I substitute fat free half and half, so it didn't register when I had my first bowl that it was real cream. Or later when I ate a second bowl. About 15 minutes later, I packed up my younger son (YS) and headed out to pick up my older son (OS). That's when I could feel the rumbling. Fortunately, I was able to keep it at bay until I was safely at home. I mess up on enough things with my kids as it is. The last thing I want is for OS to be forever teased about having the mom who locked herself in the preschool bathroom to confront a massive diarrhea attack. Pass that award onto someone else!
Pledging loyalty to the porcelin throne reminded me of other things that cause intestinal disturbance. Sometimes after a particularly intense run or spinning class, it feels like I have a baby turning over inside of me...except I know that it's not a baby, but rather something with the potential to alienate every other gym member in the class for the next 20 years. My doctor told me that I have Runner's Gut, and I am fortunte that it is not severe.
With my triathlons coming up soon, I decided to do a little more research on Runner's Gut. I found an amazing article in Runner's Digest. In addition to refreshing me on what I had learned in anatomy and physiology long before my mornings consisted of hunting through the house for the bottoms to a Tae Kwon Do uniform and before my afternoons consisted of giving up and shelling out $40 for a new uniform. The article explained that people who are lactose intolerant are more prone to Runner's Gut, and it also encouraged those affected to avoid dairy and curb high fiber foods for 24 hours before a race.
Well, that advice didn't exactly fit in with the way I had been preparing for my triathlons. In addition to using a cup of java with a splash of milk to wake up on the day of each race, I typically broke my fast with some sort of Kashi cereal that was soaked in milk. Yes, I do love my dairy products. It's amazing to me that I only had alien birth feelings instead of locking myself in a portapotty or squatting behind a bush for that matter. Oh, and I eat a lot of yogurt. While some people who are lactose intolerant are ok with yogurt, others, like my father, are not. In fact reflecting back, my mother who's a nurse always said that cream is the true lactose intolerance test for people who have the mildest of cases. Obviously my own unintentional experiment with the soup taught me that I could pass that test!
I switched over to Silk Light (or some generic version of it) for the splash of milk in my morning coffee. On days that I run, I eat soy yogurt instead of regular yogurt when I get home after my workout. I also asked someone from my spinning class whose intestinal aliens I had overheard if she knew anything about Runner's Gut. She quietly told me about a product called Ezekial bread. Why Ezekial? Apparently the ingredients and the recipe are inspired by what is written in the Bible. If you're looking for some laughs, do a Google search and read some blog posts about it. To sum it up, there are some hilarious descriptions of how truly disgusting this bread is. Few things could be as disgusting as...um...let's say alien afterbirth, so took my friend's suggestion to get the bread (and the English muffins), toast them, and cut the taste with almond butter.
I had walked past this bread every week without realizing it. In Trader Joe's, it's shelved with other bread. In other grocery stores it's with the frozen Kashi entrees. Unfortunately the store closest to us doesn't carry it. It reminds me of my recent purchase of a neti pot after a conversation at book club convinced me of it's magical powers (or really intrigued me enough to want to experience it for myself). I had walked by that many times too without realizing it.
I have been pleasantly surprised by the results. Not even a "baby" kick when I run. Plus, and this is the true miracle, after I eat the English muffins, I am actually full for hours! Of course, nothing lasts forever, and often end up feeling extremely hungry a few hours later with no warning. I will still eat dairy within 24 hours of a run, but I don't plan to before any future races.
I'll have the true test in a couple of weeks. However, if I can even tone down the feeling of a pack of bulls leaping out of my gut, I'll feel that I have been somewhat successful.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Toasting Ezekial bread and slathering it with almond butter disguises the taste.
Oprah: Supporting Depressed Women whom Bloggers Leave Behind
Why on earth would I be writing another post about the Oprah show on mom confessions? After a commenter described enjoying reading the mommy blogger discussion about Oprah's show, I was intrigued about what others were saying. Plus, my Google Alerts notified me that I had been discussed on another blog. I now find myself in the unusual position of disagreeing with two fellow bloggers for whom I have the utmost respect, Jodifur and Pundit Mom. I would like to raise two major points.
I see a value in sharing the challenges of being a mommy through as many media as possible.
I do not understand why we need to pit the problems faced by moms against each other.
Let's put Oprah aside for a moment. Sometimes I have to remind myself that a large part of the support I receive as a mother is from the blogging community. I love feeling like I'm not alone in the parenting world. I like that I can laugh and cry along with other bloggers. It gives me the feeling that I'm not alone on this crazy parenting journey.
Why do I need this reminder? Because I don't feel like this a lot in my real life. Sure, I'm in a couple of different moms groups, I just finished a parenting class, and I participate in many activities with my kids. I was even surprised to realize that I actually knew many of my neighbors when I saw familiar faces at the town kindergarten information meeting a couple of weeks ago. As important as these activities are to me, I can't think of a time that I've had a truly honest discussion with another mom at swim lessons about feeling overwhelmed. None of my friends have turned to me at a moms group meeting to say they have trouble mustering up the energy to give their children a bath. Certainly if a mom has said it, it would have been with laughter in her voice and she would have claimed it had been a few days (laugh, laugh, laugh). A close friend who lives far away from me, confessed to me only after watching Oprah's show that she too had gone for a few weeks without bathing her child. There was no laughter in that conversation. Why? This is not just about whining because one of us has a tough day. It is about depression, loneliness, and shame around believing that we are failing to perform what we are taught by society to believe are simple responsibilities that are basic to who we are as women. That depression, loneliness, and shame is psychologically destructive, unless we can find support to help address it.
Those types of conversations rarely happen outside of relatives or really close friends. How many of us had kids though and didn't really know any other moms? Not all of us had those close friends immediately. For me the answer has been blogs. My blog has been the only place where I have been consistently comfortable sharing these sorts of parenting challenges, and the the URLs of my blogging friends are the only places where I have consistently heard about these sorts of parenting challenges.
Since blogs are out on the internet, shouldn't every mom feel the same sort of support that I enjoy? Ideally yes, but realistically no. Many of us did not know about blogs for a long time. There are many parents out there who still don't understand what a blog is. Even some who know about blogs choose not to read them, and they should not be expected to read them. How many new parents are "born" every day? Blogging is only one particular medium for receiving support. It's been a great support for me, and I often encourage others to read blogs. However, blogging isn't for everyone. Some people prefer parenting magazines, some people prefer parenting books, some people like reality TV shows about parents, and some folks even like Oprah. Many less fortunate people are unaware of or unable to take advantage of any of these supports. They assume they are bad parents and suffer alone.
I just finished a parenting class with someone whose six month-old first computer has never left its box. There is just no way she's reading blogs, and it took her several weeks to feel comfortable enough to share honestly about her own experiences. After all, it is a lot easier to admit on-line that one of your children may not be bathed as often as they should be than it is to admit that to people who will see (and smell) them and you at the grocery store. If you admit it on-line, it stays on-line (with the exception of people you know in the real world who read your blog). If you admit it in person, the next time you show up at that swim lesson, well you just don't know who has been discussing you and possibly passing judgment.
I wasn't shocked by anything that Oprah said. I've read about most of those challenges on mommy blogs, but I haven't heard most people say things like that in real life. We know that a lot of moms are depressed, lonely and isolated, and we also know that there are no easy solutions to those problems. In fact, the only solution that I can think of is to talk about it so that women do not feel alone. The fact that these issues are described on so many blogs does not invalidate the challenges faced by non-blogging moms or other new parents.
That leads me to my bigger disagreement with Jodifur's and Pundit Mom's posts (again I think that these women are wonderful bloggers and encourage you to read their blogs, and in their Oprah posts suggest some very important topics of discussion). They both suggested that Oprah misused her power and platform by focusing her "mommy issues" episode on parenting challenges rather than other issues, such as breastfeeding laws or maternity leave. I don't understand the either/or. Nothing prevents Oprah from having one of those shows next week and one the week after. On the one hand, one could argue that Oprah should identify the single biggest crisis on the planet and spend every single show discussing it. Is global warming more important than breastfeeding?
Of course, I have never heard anyone argue that Oprah should only cover a single issue. Rather, there appears to be a perception that she should only cover one "mommy issue." I have yet to hear protests that Oprah had James Taylor on her show last week, when she could have been using her power to bring attention to inadequate protection for breastfeeders and inadequate maternity leave. She should do both. She should bring attention and support to the lonely and depressed and raise opposition to laws that harm the health and welfare of our families. And sure, she can continue to provide entertainment through music and celebrities in other shows. We as mothers need to find ways to widen the amount of attention given to the challenges we face, rather than to pit them against each other.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Even if Oprah's words were not new, they deserve repeating as long as they help one more person receive support.
Well said. I've been working on being more honest about the challenges when I write, because sometimes I simply have a tendency not to want to write too much about the hard parts. But it really needs to be said. We all need to know we aren't the only ones getting our asses kicked by parenting.
As for the Oprah thing, I agree with your take. This was just one show, one angle. You can't address every important issue on every show.
I didn't mean to suggest Oprah misused her power. Oprah can say whatever she wants. My personal opinion is I found it whiny, and boring. That's my opinion. I think the time could have been better spent. That doesn't mean anyone else's opinion is wrong or my opinion is right.
I also find much of my parenting support from blogs. I am also fortunate to have other supports IRL as well, but like you said, some things are not so easy to bring up in a face-to-face conversation.
I do think that TV shows tend to make mothers look very silly when they portray the challenges, like we're a bunch of air-headed women who can't get our laundry done. I suppose that is the nature of TV though. Most people watch it to be entertained, not to see how things really are.
You make excellent points about the need for mothers to be able to find support for the isolation, depression and other challenges we face at different times in our parenting experiences. I thought the Oprah show was somewhat superficial in how the issues were talked about and that it was really more a way to promote products. If she really wanted to show these women bloggers as resources for other women, why didn't she share their blog names or urls? She only did it for Dooce.
You make a wonderful point that I hadn't thought about -- that there are so many moms not plugged into the online community and the need for those moms to have places to share and find community.
I would applaud Oprah if she would address that seriously, as well as the other issues. I think the show gave short shrift to the main issue. I'm not holding my breath that there will be any Oprah shows on FMLA or fair pay for moms. I don't think that's what the advertisers will pay for.
I made a comment a couple of posts ago...but again, I'm a mom of 14 month old twins. Did I mention I'm an American living in France with my french hubby? Not only did I get my butt kicked by having twins, but I felt like I had no support and/or friends here in France. I SERIOUSLY do not know if I would have made it w/o the internet. A lot of twin mom sites practically saved my life. I think we would all literally give our lives for our children, but I do think it's healthy for us all to be able to talk about how friggin' hard the road of mommyhood can be sometimes!
I think some of this is cultural/geographical, as well. This is no slight to MA, just my experience, but my years living in MA were the loneliest I've ever experienced - it seemed very, very hard to break in to your community, and I lived in Cambridge and Amherst and had dealings with Framingham, so I was somewhat geographically spread out.
I find that moms in MI are much more forthcoming. I have much deeper mom conversations with my friends here, although I've had some deep "off-blog" conversations with bloggy buddies. The main thing, though, I think is to get support and if you can't get support where you are, then blogging is even more fabulous than it is for all the other reasons it's fabulous (cross-cultural experiences, humor, beauty, truth, etc., etc.)
I, too think it is great that there is the outlet of blogging for women/mothers to express themselves and share their experiences, etc. However, I do sometimes feel there is a scent of self-pity going on in mothers sometimes. Lots of "woe is me" going on in the blog world, when these stay at home, upper class moms really shouldn't be complaining. Surely our mothers before us had it much worse. I mean, c'mon, they didn't have even television to help babysit their kids!
Seriously, women were much more oppressed decades back, and I think sometimes we need to be a little more thankful for what we've got and where we are in this world because while there is still ridiculousness (if that's even a word!) going on out there with people having issues with breastfeeding in public, we are still very fortunate as women living in America. I guess I'm just sick of hearing the complaining.
But wait, if Oprah has had James Taylor on recently, when is she going to give equal time to Jason Mraz? Cheryl Crow? Honestly, that you felt that you needed to defend your position is a shame. It's a great position you've taken and obviously one that has struck a chord with many, many of the fellow mommy bloggers out there. Support is definitely what we need, and support is important on so many levels. Again, well spoken, well said, well done!!
Ah, the Mommy Issues... It's never-ending, isn't it?
I didn't see the show. I can imagine where it went, though... All I can say is that everyone's experiences are different. I have had many close friends IRL and many online. There are definitely advantages to both. I may not be able to edit my sentences and thoughts with an IRL friend, and I also have to pause, mid-sentence, to hear their opinion (so annoying!). But an online friend can't hug me or go get coffee with me. My online friends don't call to chit-chat and kill the time with me as I'm washing dishes. (Though they could. Want my number?!?)
Yesterday I watched a really good episode of Oprah on mom confessions. She even had Dooce (famous mommy blogger) on there which is what caught my attention in the previews and made me set my Tivo for it. The show had, well true confessions from moms and what motherhood is really like; what no one ever really tells you about it. And no, it wasn't the whole "no one ever told me how much I would truly love my children" aspect of it either.
Seeing it made me reflect on what those first few years were really like for me; what I truly thought about them. So while feelings like "I can't believe I can love another person this much" were definitely there, I also had a bunch of "how did I get myself into this?" moments. I don't tend to get very personal on my blog, so be prepared for the mother load here.
I knew that motherhood would be challenging. Hadn't I, especially as a feminist, heard over and over again how hard it was to raise children? There was a part of me that just didn't believe it. Surely "they" were doing something wrong. I would do it right. Except that I didn't.
Those first few months, I would look back on my day and wonder where time had gone. It was already the evening and my biggest non-baby accomplishment would be loading dishwasher. Sometimes. Many times I didn't even have that accomplishment. Yet at the same time, I remember looking at the time and wondering how it could be 10 am when it felt like three whole days had already occurred in the span of the morning. When would the day end? I would look at it intellectually and be disgusted with myself that I had accomplished nothing. How hard was it to change a baby and give him a bottle? What was I doing with my time? What was I doing wrong?
I was very lonely at the beginning. I didn't know anyone else who had babies who lived close by and my family lived far away. When I thought about being a SAHM before kids, I assumed I would be like those moms I saw at the mall who were there with a friend sipping coffee while their kids play. I would say "park" but honestly before I had kids it had been probably over a decade since I had set foot in the park. I love to talk and I felt just plain isolated. I tried really hard to sign up for all sorts of baby classes not for my older son (OS) but for me. I needed it. I remember being at a new moms group and one of the mothers said she hadn't been there the week before because she child had been napping. I remember thinking so had OS but that's what those awesome bucket carseats were for and OS could sleep just in fine in that. I just couldn't afford not to go to my once a week parenting group because of nap; particularly since at that point it was the only baby class I was doing and that would have put me out from interacting with people during the day for two weeks.
Some of the classes were good, some of them were terrible and within a few months, I started to begin to get my feet a tiny bit more back on the ground. However, then came phase two, the competitiveness; unfortunately, the negative aspects of doing baby classes. All of the sudden I felt like I was in competition to be the best mom and it was a game in which I didn't even to participate. Obviously there was the whole breastfeeding issue, but there were also subtle little things like making sure OS had a nap at all costs or had a bedtime at all costs because torrential rains and storms of epic proportions would be upon the mother who did not take this aspect of parenting seriously. After all, that's what all good moms did. Good thing I wasn't in my new parenting class at this time or there's no way I would have put a sleeping OS into his carseat to leave.
There were other little things like making my own playdough, doing crafts, having a craft cabinet, going to parks, etc that I really disliked. At the same time though I felt like I was a bad mother if I didn't do those things. I remember thinking particularly parks and walks were the worst. We don't have sidewalks by us and so to go for a walk or to a park required packing up a diaper bag with every item known to mankind and lugging around the stroller in my car. Then there was bundling up OS or applying sunscreen during the summer, and seriously by the time I got to said park or for a walk I wanted a nap. You can probably guess how many times those trips happened.
We have an expression in my house that the Big Giraffe and I will say to each other. It goes as following: "Is this like frozen diced cooked chicken?" That was from my cooking phase where I felt like I needed to not only have homemade meals, but always have a well stocked freezer at the same time. The irony is, I'm actually a pretty good cook if I do say so myself. At this point in my life, I make all my own marinades, sauces and rubs. I cook simply, but everything is pretty much well seasoned and from scratch. I just couldn't do that though when I first had OS. One day the Big Giraffe came home to my find me crying. I had asked him to pick up dinner for us on the way home because no big surprise, I hadn't made dinner. He was alarmed that I was upset. All I could say was that I didn't have any frozen diced chicken (by which I meant chicken that I had cooked, diced and frozen myself). He was speechless. Why would we have that? I answered that I had been to a moms group meeting the night before where everyone said that you had to have it. Again with the torrential rains and storms. It was practically a necessity of parenthood like cases of diapers and wipes in your basement so that you'll never by left without a diaper and a child that has diarrhea.
To me though, cooked chicken breast was a meal. Why would I want to make another meal on top of it? After a few minutes, of crying I realized that it was ridiculous to be crying over diced cooked chicken and we got a good laugh out of it. Now that's our way of saying "Are you pretending to be someone that you're not?". For the record, the Big Giraffe told me that the day he found diced cooked chicken in our freezer was the day that he would insist on counseling because frozen diced cooked chicken is just not me.
I could go on and on about all the ways I've been surprised by motherhood. One of the authors of a book for moms on the show talked about realizing that she was over-scheduled in her effort to fit in with what everyone else was doing. At some point I realized that too and that I wasn't happy with the way I was choosing to spend my time.
It was definitely easier with my younger son. There is a reason my kids are 3 years apart and it's because I knew that I needed to have OS in preschool when YS was a baby. I won't lie and say it was easy. It wasn't. Sometimes I resented having to drive OS to preschool as much as I valued that one and one time with YS and to be really honest there was a part of me that really wished I could drop YS off with OS so I could take a nap. As much as I've loved that the biggest disappointment in our life is that one of my kids gets sick and we have to cancel a playdate, there is a part of me that feels guilty that part of what I enjoy about being a SAHM is not just the chance to be with my kids, but the fact that I don't have any deadlines or papers due. This is the first time in my life I haven't had that.
It has gotten better. My kids are a little more independent now. I realized I don't need to lug a huge diaper bag with me to the park. My kids aren't going to starve if they don't have a snack there and if the worst were to happen and they peed, popped or puked on themselves, it would be a stinky ride home, but we're talking 10 minutes not three hours. If the worst that happens is a naked kid car ride home, that's actually pretty good. Naked mom car ride is not so good at this point, but give me another few years! We also don't need a stroller at the park anymore and my kids are better able to understand that we can go to a park for a short period of time and know that we'll come back another time; better, not great. I can also sit on the bench at the park if I want while they run around and go down the slides. I still don't have a craft cabinet. I decided preschool was for crafts. It works well for us. Sometimes we do them, but more often than not we don't. A couple months ago I roasted a chicken and diced up the leftovers and froze them. It was nice to have, but so is just eating the roasted chicken leftovers the next day.
I yell at my kids way more than I would like and every morning I start the day off with the goal that I won't yell. More days than not, I make it, but sometimes I don't. I joke that at least my kids and the Big Giraffe will never have to look back and wonder what I was thinking when I was mad; they know. These past two years have been wonderful in so many ways. Aside from the " I can't believe I can love my sons so much" feelings and actually enjoying spending time with them, I've finally started to find myself again and I've taking a lot of pride with my triathlons, the books I read for myself, my blog and my more recent knitting. This is the happiest I've ever been. Yet that doesn't take away from the fact that in a fit of tiredness and PMS a few weeks ago I told the Big Giraffe that literally my biggest accomplishment since becoming a parent has been getting fat. Yes, I'm just about back to my pre-pregnancy weight but when push came to shove on my reflection of motherhood that was what came into my mind. Even I realized how ridiculously that was and started laughing right after the statement left my mouth and you know what came to both of our minds, "frozen diced cooked chicken".
Last week I was at McDonald's with my kids (yet another true mom confession) and YS hurt his finger. OS said, "Come here, honey and let me see it." Then he gave YS's finger a kiss. In the moment I saw myself since that's what I always say to the kids. He took my good parts. If I could give one piece of advice to new parents it would be that. No matter how badly you feel you're doing as a parent, you're doing something right too and you're kids will take that with them.
I adored this post! I think that, except for the knitting part, you could be my soul sister! I don't have a craft cabinet, either, and the last time I tried to bond with my five-year-old by making pancakes together, I burned them and blamed it on her.
But I love what you said about them remembering the good parts, and I really hope it's true. When I told my mom about the pancake disaster, she reminded me of the great Easter Egg Coloring Debacle of 1978, during which my brothers and I had her so agitated, she required a stiff drink immediately afterwards. Except I don't remember that part at all.
I hate to be a naysayer, but i hated that Oprah. I thought it was a whole bunch of whinnying with nothing of constructive. Of course parenthood is hard! But what can we do to make it easier. Don't you a a minivan? Don't get one!
Good post. I think it is good to acknowledge the weird competitiveness that can come out of parenthood. next time I'm over, though, I expect some frozen diced cooked chicken!
I started reading your blog a few months ago, but first time comment. Great post. I have 14 month old twin boys. Let's just say that A LOT of this rung true for me. By the way - I used to run. And your blog has helped my inspiration to start training for a marathon. Keep up the good work!
It is a lovely post, Alex, my dear. I am impressed with how very well you've expressed my own experience. I think it's another of those universal experiences really, but while we are in the midst of it (and actually, it never ends) we feel like we are the only ones to face it. Well spoken, well said, well done!
When I was a kid, I used to think about what it would be like when someday I had kids. Not surprisingly, I plugged my future family into my current life; my kids would go to my school, I would shop at my grocery store, and my kids would swim at the community pool and beach where I swam.
Do you ever get the feeling that you're just playing house? That the real parents will walk in the door soon? There's a small part of me that has always felt this. This is the same part of me that can't believe the my doctors are talking to me about getting a mammogram or needing glasses in a few years as I approach middle age. Just throw in a conversation or two about Depends while you're at why don't you?
I recognized a few faces at last week's town kindergarten meeting and began talking until the meeting started. At one point during the meeting, the superintendent-elect encouraged us to take a good look around at the people in the room because we would be seeing them over and over for the next 13 years as our kids go through school together. He then took a break so we could introduce ourselves to our neighbors. As I looked around the room I could feel myself starting to tense up.
If you would have told me 10 years ago that I would feel like this, I would have jumped to one conclusion: in the 8 years I have lived in my town I wouldn't have made any friends. In fact quite the opposite is true. As I looked around the room, I realized that I knew a lot of people there. Between my moms group, the Y, EI playgroup and various other baby/toddlers classes I have taken, I have really met a lot of people in my community. In fact, this week I've had at least three people whom I hadn't seen come up to me to say that they saw me from the back of the room. This is really a good thing. How wonderful is it to actually know people in your community? Isn't this exactly what I always wanted?
One of the moms whom I already knew even asked me to get involved with the PTO. I of course said I would. Again, it's exactly what I wanted. I guess what caused my good aniexty attack if you will, is that I realized for the first time that this my life. I'm not just passing through on my way to something else. Of course this is a good thing, but it's also a little bit scary at the same time. It's only scary though because it's different from what I thought it would be. Of course the Big Giraffe and I can always move, and just because we're here now doesn't mean we have to be here forever, but we have chosen a life path, and that path will always be different from the road that I expected.
Robert Frost's Lesson Learned: I tool the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.
A community gives me a feeling of "home" when I start seeing familiar faces when doing grocery shopping or so and when I can bump into a friend. I find that very important.
Throughout my time blogging, I've blogged about my fantastic husband and two wonderful kids. One of the nice things about blogging is not only does it allow me to record my thoughts and feelings (and be able to look up key events like when my kids walked so that I have that information for their doctors appointments), but it also allows me to give public recognition to the important people in my life. While, I have mentioned many times how great of a friend Suzanne is in passing, I realized a couple days ago that I've never written a blog post just about her.
Suzanne and I met on the public bus (The Wilbus as in Wilmette+bus for those of you in the Chicago area) on the way to school freshmen year in high school. She was a friend of a friend of mine. Through this friend I would occasionally see Suzanne. We also both did the school retreat called Snowball so I got to know Suzanne a little bit better. Our high school was huge, though, and we didn't have any of the same classes for the first two years.
Junior year, Suzanne and I were in the same physics class, and since we knew each other we became lab partners. I still remember that one of my first conversations with Suzanne was over the book Backlash. In addition to not liking physics and preferring to either exchange stories about the horrible toilet seats in our house or compete over who could draw a picture that most resembled our phyics teacher, we also had a lot of other things in common. Physics was a much better class because Suzanne was in it. We must have had a good time in our labs because several other students whom I knew from youth group joined us during the second semester. Instead of having a lab partner, I was part of a lab "team". Our phsysics teacher must have seen it all before, or perhaps he just held out the hope that we could just all help each other. Either way, he never said anything.
Suzanne and I remained good friends. When my high school sweetheart, Jim, and I broke up senior year. I was completely devastated. Suzanne endured many phone calls from me and came over many times in the middle of the night to eat ice cream with me and listen to my heartbreak. I later learned that my parents thought I was having those 2 am conversations by myself in the kitchen. Suzanne and I did have a huge fight my senior year. I can't remember what it was about, but by the time graduation rolled around we had patched things up. That's the only big fight we've ever had.
Throughout college we would talk frequently on the phone and visit each other. In fact, I was visiting Suzanne at NYU when I met the Big Giraffe. It was Suzanne whom I called when Jim got back in touch with me and Suzanne whom I called when I moved out to NYC after college and was very interested in the Big Giraffe. It was Suzanne who helped to set the Big Giraffe and me up, and it was Suzanne who got the Big Giraffe an extra ticket to the Human League/Howard Jones/Boy George concert that Suzanne and I were attending, when the Big Giraffe shyly requested it a couple days after our first date. She was a bridesmaid in my wedding and is a godmother to my kids.
Don't get me wrong, Suzanne and I haven't always seen eye to eye on everything. In fact that is one of the reasons she's my closest friend. I always know that she'll be honest about what she thinks while supporting what I decide, on any issue. After I had my older son (OS), I was upset about the amount of weight I had put on and had yet to lose. She very frankly told me that I did weigh more than I used to but then listed how in every other way I was the same person so the weight really didn't matter. Then when we were walking in Times Square and some random jerk called me a fat bitch, I thought Suzanne was going to bolt after him and tackle him.
When I look at my two boys, I hope as all parents do that they have wonderful, successful lives. I hope they have loving partners, children if they choose, fulfilling jobs, and enjoyable hobbies. I also hope that they each have a "Suzanne" in their lives.
So what brought this on? Well, as I said it's overdue. I was also incredibly touched by the fact that Suzanne and her husband are gifting my boys with two weeks of camp this summer.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There may be only one Suzanne, but everyone should have one in their lives.
That's very sweet to honor a good friend like this. Most of my real-life friends aren't bloggers or even read my blog, so I don't think I could post about them! But maybe I'll give it a try, too. Everyone always needs to know when you're a good friend. Nice post.
It didn't strike me until I was speaking at Holy Cross a few months ago how hard it is to raise kids when your family lives far away from you. Sure, I knew that, but I had never really stopped and reflected about how different my life would be if we had grandparents or siblings nearby. The fact of the matter is that we don't, and in addition to wanting family around because we love them there is one thing that we majorly lack: babysitters.
When we first had our older son (OS), we had a great teenage babysitter who lived next door to us. Even better, her grandmother lived with her family so there was always an adult at home. She was great with OS, reliable, and we didn't have to worry about any awkard situations with the Big Giraffe driving a teenage girl sitter home. I would walk to the end of the driveway and make sure she made it to the door safely. Fortunately, but unfortunately for us, she went off to college.
Not to worry, there was another teenage babysitter who lived two doors down from us. She was also great, and again I could just walk to the end of my driveway to see her home. Her parents are really nice people and one time when the sitter was running late, her dad sat for OS. I still remember when he walked into the house, saw OS watching Teletubbies, and asked him which one was Rudolph. OS thought it was hilarious. Her best friend also sat for the kids and while she didn't live next door, she had her own car and drove herself. Much to our dismay, these sitters also went off to college. They apparently felt no guilt at moving on with their lives and leaving us in the lurch. I'm not sure why they chose a quality education and the chance to live on their own over periodically babysitting for our kids.
It was around that time that we were trying for our younger son (YS). Between the lack of babysitters for date night or to watch OS during my ob/gyn appointments, I felt compelled to make a move. I decided to join a babysitting co-op or, as I called it, a babysitting cult. For a group of laid back moms, the application form was enough to scare anyone or at least me off. First you had to be referred by a member, then you had to do accept a sit or offer to do a sit within a specified period of time. You received tokens which were the currency which you earned for sits and paid for sits. If you were under a certain number of tokens, it was bad, and, if you were over a certain number of tokens, it was also bad. Cutoffs and formulas were all clearly stated. I haven't even mentioned the mandatory playdates. Plus you had to give them money. See, total cult. Alright so it was only a dollar a year...one dollar, a million dollars, who's really keeping track?
As much as I like to mock this cult, I really have enjoyed being part of it. When the coordinator needed to step down for a small move from Massachusetts to Sweden, I agreed to take over if no one else wanted the position. I only have to keep track of playdates, tokens, and annual dues. Basically it involves being on the computer, and I know this may come as a big shock, but as a blogger I do on occasion find myself in front of one. Thus, I can now proudly declare that I have fullfilled one of my personal dreams I never knew I had: I am a cult leader.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: You can be anything you want to be.
I have to say that the last thing I expected was for you to say you had become the leader! It does sound a bit like a cult but also like a really good thing :)
who does the sits? the other mom members of this cults? so it's adults babysitting? Hmm that's a total new concept for me.
As a teenager I became part of a babysitting organisation. Well no, it's a family organisations that organises courses and gives discount coupons etc etc and also has a babysitting service. Teenagers like wanting to make some money with babysitting but not knowing many people with babies can become members of the organisation and then families can apply for a babysitter. The coordinator than assigns babysitters from her pool, it's all recorded, insurance included etc... with fixed rates to pay per hour etc. It is handy.
I usually got picked up at home by the dads and driven back home. I never had any second thoughts about being in the car with this male adult??! Are you?
Cult leader in your spare time? Hmm, interesting! And who said blogging was your only talent. I like the concept of that 'cult" though considering we don't have parents around us either. I have a SIL near me, but she's really busy and unreliable, so lacks the time to help out much when it comes to babysitting.
The Big Giraffe and I take turns sleeping in on the weekend. Since today was his day to sleep in, I just had to watch the Today Show so that the kids would be quiet and let him sleep. Alright really and truly they are quiet when it's on...for about 3 minutes and then I inevitably turn it off. The one segment I got to see was about Facebook. How appropriate since as I was watching it, I was uploading photos of the baby sweater I knitted.
The segment talked about Facebook etiquette and how to know whether or not to friend someone. Ironically I had received a friend request a few days ago from someone I didn't really know who claimed to be a cousin of mine. I did recognize the name as being someone from my husband's side of the family. The BG confirmed that she was a cousin and Facebook friend of a cousin with whom we're close. I accepted her friend request and then forgot about it.
Until later on this evening that is when I received the following message on my wall, "I think I might be obsessed with you!! I have to know more about what your spiritual beliefs are. Are you a witch? I thought that--tell me about you!! Love--L".
Just in case you're not familiar with Facebook, what's written on your wall is viewable by your friends and, unless you block it, the poster's friends. More specifically it shows up on your feed. Don't get me wrong, some members of BG's family are Wiccan, including the boys' guardians if anything happens to us. However, this wall post did not say Wiccan. My immediate thoughts were 1) She has me mixed up with another cousin who used to be named Alex but has changed her name who is in fact Wicacan 2) All my Catholic school junior high friends who already may have thought I was bizarre now think I'm out casting spells on people. 3) Since I am unlikely to make my high school reunion this year, I can imagine someone being asked if they know what I am up to and replying "OMG, didn't you hear? She's a witch!"
Fortunately, there is a button to delete posts from a Facebook wall. While my kids and the BG might argue that I am a witch, I don't think that was what L was talking about. No laughing, BG or I may just cast a spell on you when you sleep...
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: When there is more than one Alex, more than one Wiccan, and more than one person seen as a witch in a family, it is easy to get confused on Facebook.
That's a funny dilemma. I had someone from high school 'friend' me and I swear I couldn't remember her for the life of me. I had to dig out my old yearbook to see who the heck she was.
I have totally ignored friend requests on Facebook. The good thing is, the people don't realize that you've ignored them. They probably just think you didn't see the alert or aren't active or something.
Two months ago I messed up taking my birth control pills. In addition to using them for birth control, my ob/gyn recommended them because they have been found to reduce the rate of ovarian cancer, which is prevalent in my family, by 60%. Then for the next couple weeks the Big Giraffe and I were worried about having a new addition to our family, and no I don't mean the canine one I would love to have at some point. This was not helped by the fact I had a wonky pregnancy test that we weren't sure how to interpret. Then we spent what seemed like the equivalent of a down payment on a new home on other pregnancy tests. Alright, obviously that is an exaggeration, but those things aren't cheap.
On top of it all, I just had been feeling off. I had more headaches than usual, I felt crankier than usual (no comment on that one!) and although it was nice that I wasn't getting my period, I still was getting bad cramps. After I missed my pill and had to take two the next day, I dreamt that I had been diagnosed with a brain tumor. I woke up to a pounding headache. That sealed the deal. I was going to go off The Pill for a few months until my appointment with the cancer specialist that my ob/gyn recommended.
I have felt much better since I've been off The Pill. Until period time that is. First of all, I started getting it again. Between The Pill and my triathlon training, I was only experiencing it a couple of times a year. Now the frequency has increased, although the triathlon training is definitely continuing to mitigate the symptoms. The worst part though is not the cramps, the bloating or the PMS. It's the hunger monster that it appears to have unleashed! My doctor said it's just the hormones and not to worry about it. Honestly if I hadn't had my period twice already, I would wonder if it were a monster of another sort...a tiny little human monster. Don't freak out BG. Remember you had to go out and get me extra supplies this month? Anyone else have this happen?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The Pill protects from more than just extra births.
I have yet to have my cycles return post partum, but I was off the pill for 2 years prior to conceiving baby #3 and I much prefer no pill. Although I was put on the pill at 15 to help lessen painful (very, very) menstrual cramps.
I'm not sure what my point of this comment is, so I'll just stop.
I've been off the pill because I'm on antibiotics and the pill wouldn't be as effective anyway. I got the antibiotics during my placebo week and didn't start the new pack on Sunday, so it's only been 8 days. No symptoms, though. Good luck!
The dollar store by me sells pregnancy tests. I thought this was hilarious and I made a crack to the check-out guy. "I'm not sure I would trust a $1 pregnancy test." He didn't think it was all that funny and curtly informed me that they were one of the store's biggest sellers! Many people buy three and take them all and compare results. Even then, it's still cheaper!
Anyway, just a tip in case you need it in the future. But I hope it's a tip you never have to use!
Yesterday my moms group had spa day at a local spa. For my birthday the Big Giraffe (BG) got me a gift certificate there to have a hot rock massage. I was pretty excited about it. I had one about 4 years ago, and it was fantastic.
Unfortunately the only available time slot was 1:15 pm, but, since my group was going to be there from 9am-2pm, I figured I could just get there earlier and hang out before my appointment. By the time I arrived, most people had already had their services and talked about them. Someone brought up being asked if she wanted her chest and abs massaged. She had said no because she was uncomfortable about not being covered with the sheet. I thought she meant her abs. I knew about that kind of mistake from my earliest experience with a massage.
I got my first massage when I was 18 and a senior in high school. I had no idea that you weren't supposed to wear underwear until my friend and I showed up. She said she was having her period and was averse to tampons, so her masseuse said she could wear her bikini bottoms. I too said I had my period and couldn't wear tampons, even though that wasn't true. This is particularly funny because we shared a locker on the swim team and had a giant box of tampons in our locker. I decided that my "period" meant I also needed to wear my bikini top in addition to the bottoms. In hindsight, I am surprised that the masseuse acted like my reasoning for wearing the top, "Uh, my period?" was totally logical. Or she thought I was an immature whack job, which would be my guess. My second massage was a gift from the BG for my 23rd birthday. This time I also said I had my period even thought that wasn't true and wore my underwear. No top though.
By the time I had my third massage, I stopped claiming that I am having my period, and I went appropriately attired (or not attired). I did keep the sheet practically glued to my body. A couple massages later, and I now act like a massage veteran. After all, now that I've gone through labor and have massive stretch marks, I don't care as much. I'm modest but I'm not going to jump in a locker if someone sees my changing at the Y.
With all that in mind, when the masseuse asked me if I wanted a chest and ab massage, I thought why not. Why not because for some bizarre reason I thought that there would be... oh I don't know...a SHEET to cover my nipples. You can then imagine my surprise when I suddenly felt a cool breeze on my chest. Yes, I was half nude in front of the masseuse. The obvious thought came into my mind: I should have worn my bikini! Yeah, talk about a horror show there. I've lost a lot of weight, but bikini material I am not! Plus can you imagine his surprise, particularly if I had said "Uh, my period?"
Despite my initial surprise, I was able to relax and even enjoy the massage, and despite BG's suspicions, he didn't really massage my breasts. I shouldn't really criticize the BG; he took the news very well. I think he was a little suspicious of my claim to have grown as a person. Uh, bikini to partially nude? Seems obvious to me. He also looked a little surprised when I mentioned tipping the masseuse and muttered something about the peep show being enough of a tip. He seems to enjoy teasing me about it, which proves that he benefitted from the chest massage as well as I did. (And yes, he keeps insisting that the masseuse benefitted most of all.)
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A chest and ab massage means that the top half of your body will be naked, including nipple exposure.
I thought you were by definition naked in a spa even when walking from the sauna room to the massage desk or swimming in the pool...at least where I've been so far already. So be warned if you come to Europe! Places can even be gender mixed
Well that sounds a bit um, breezy oh my gosh if I could have a massage right now, covered nipples or not I would totally go for it. I'm sure the masseuse has seen it all before anyway.
Holy crap, you are brave. There is no way I would do that. I don't even like getting a manicure because they massage your hands. I hate when strangers touch me.
It's been a little while since I posted. A long long time ago, practically in the dark ages or better known as the time before I had children, I rarely got sick. When I did get sick it was always a big deal like viral meningitis or when I worked at the DA's office and got some really weird rash and a high fever and left a completely incoherent message on voicemail for my boss except that I was actually talking to a different co-workers voicemail. What can I say except that I'm impressed that I was even able to pick up the phone.
This year, though I think I have had more colds than I have had in the past ten years combined. In fact the last time I was at the doctor I asked her about it. She said it's probably because my older son (OS)is in school 5 days a week for the first time this year. She said it's pretty common for the parents to be sick a lot even though the kids are healthy.
This Monday OS had a cough. I didn't think too much of it, but when he barely touched his pizza at lunch I know something was amiss. When has OS ever refused pizza? Sure enough later that night he had a fever. He hasn't had one in about two years. I'm not joking. We still have the same bottle of Children's Tylenol I bought when he turned two so I wouldn't have to buy any more of the dinky little bottles of infant medicine. Then of course we had YS though...
Anyhow, we were lucky that the fever didn't even last 12 hours; he was up and fine in no time. I did keep him home from school for a couple days. Then the Big Giraffe got it. He did worse. Then I got it and spent several days feeling like I was coming down with something, eventually ending up with a fever over the weekend. Plus I've had some issues going on in my personal life (fortunately not with my hubby or sons) that just seem to make dealing with anything more difficult. So how was YS? Perfectly healthy fortunately leading me to wonder if this illness was bacterial since YS had to be on antibiotics for a while because of his surgery.
Hopefully that's it for colds this year. After all I have other life threatening worries to keep me occupied. Take for example the Hotwheel car that happened to just be placed oh so perfectly at the bottom of the stairs this afternoon. Guess who saw her life flash before her eyes. On a positive note though when I attend parenting class tomorrow and have to name either a good parenting moment, a good nurturing moment for myself, or a parenting moment I wish I had handled better I will be able to give an example of the third.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Adults are not meant to ride on Hotwheels, particularly starting at the bottom of their stairs.
Other than the time our golden retriever, Gandalph, stole a pot roast off the table and the time he ate a baby wipe used to wipe off our older son's (OS) hands after he ate some of a different pot roast a few weeks later, Gandalph has left food on our table alone. Until recently that is.
In the past few weeks, Gandalph has been helping himself to our plates regardless of whether or not we are sitting at the table. In fact yesterday he accidentaly got my finger as I was throwing out some old nan in his haste to intercept it before it hit the trash. I figured it probably had to do with his new dog food, but I gave the vet a call just in case. She called me back yesterday evening.
Vet: I'm sorry to call you so late. Gandalph is such a great dog. It sounds to me like he's just really hungry. Alex Elliot (AE): Thanks for calling! I was up anyway (scrounging around in the kitchen for a snack). That's what I was figuring. Vet: He's probably hungry all the time and it's probably making him irritable and uncomfortable. AE: I completely understand. I feel that way too. Vet: It's probably all he's thinking about.' AE: (me clanking around the dishes in preparation for an evening snack of toast). Vet: It sounds like a really good solution would be to increase his dog food 30%-50%. It might make him slightly heavier, but it's about quality of life. Being heavier correlates with some health problems, but it doesn't necessarily cause them. AE: (Can you be my doctor! I want someone to tell me that I need to increase my food intake 30-50% and tell me it's about me being happy!) So I shouldn't go back to his old dog food? He really didn't seem to like it though. Vet: No, the new food is good, and he obviously likes it. AE: (Trying to pretend that my high fiber whole wheat toast with a touch of Smart Balance is a donut or better yet a thick slice of fudge cake.) Yes, it's much better when you enjoy what you're eating. Vet: It's probably a good idea to not have him in the room when the kids are eating until he's not so hungry. AE: (Alright seriously can you be my doctor?! I would love to have my doctor tell me that I shouldn't be in the same room as my kids when eating. No whining, no complaining about what I've made, no telling me that I'm mean, etc. etc.) Yes, I've been separating them. Vet: Also, you should keep the kids away from him when he's eating. AE: (Do you accept Blue Cross Blue Shield of MA? Can I have you write a prescription stating that I too need to be away from my kids when I eat because maybe then my insurance would cover a sitter for them. Maybe just maybe I would be able to finish a meal when it is still hot. At the very least I might be able to have enough time to taste it and better yet enjoy it. ) Yes, we already do that. We're also trying to give him some extra attention. Vet: Everybody needs extra attention. It's important because it lets the mother dog know that she's he's appreciated and can help make up for the fact that her kids told her that they wished that the lady at the grocery store was their mother...(Whoops! That was me substituing myself every time Gandalph's name came up.) Vet: If this still doesn't work then there's a great drug out there that supresses the dog's appetiate. It's expensive but works well. AE: You know I'm hungry all the time too.....(do you know how expensive my Y membership is. Hmmm...you wouldn't be chance know if that med is sold to humans under a different name like other vet meds are? Better yet, have there been any studies on humans taking that pill because I would be happy to volunteer myself.) AE: So to summarize, I need to increase Gandalph's food 30%-50%, let him eat in the comfort of his own space and privacy, keep him away from any kids mealtimes which inevitably involve whining, crying and meltdowns and give him love and attention. I have just one question: Can I be my dog?
The Big Giraffe gave a bemused look when I recounted this conversation to him and reminded me that we have an extra dog dish if I need it. I did not appreciate that.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Some dogs have all the luck.
A couple weeks ago I attended friends' baby shower. In the swirl of conversations about everyone becoming parents, I caught up with an old (well perhaps former is a better word than old since she is only four years older than I am) college adviser who happened to be there. She's about 4 years older than me. I asked her if she ever felt pressured by her friends to have kids, since she and her long time boyfriend/partner want to remain child-free. She acknowledged that being surrounded by parents had changed many of her friendships, but not because they were pressuring her to join them. The big culprit: her friends only wanted to talk about their kids. The answer wasn't really surprising to me, because I have friend of that phenomenon in parenting magazines and books.
Right around that time, a friend of mine invited me to take a parenting class she was offering at her family network. It meets once a week for 12 weeks and get this: they provide free childcare and free dinner for both kids and parents. Here's what interested me in it aside from not having to worry about dinner once a week: the class is about a parent's identity as a person.
That's right, it's a class for parents about basically getting to know themselves better. Both the Big Giraffe and I thought it sounded like a good idea so we signed up. Tonight was our first class. I'm pretty excited about this parenting journey.
Of course our next step on our parenting journey may not be in the most enjoyable direction. The hospital called this afternoon to tell us that our younger son (YS) got the first slot for surgery on tomorrow's schedule! That was what we were hoping, for because he's not allowed to eat breakfast. We have to be there at 6 am tomorrow.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Parents are people too.
Good luck with the surgery! Both my sons have had surgery at different times and we lucked out with one of them having an early slot, too. Makes it so much easier.
And on the parenting class, they have one just like that, too here at our local school. I was blown away by the free childcare and dinner thing, too.
I have been very stressed by my younger son's (YS) upcoming surgery. I wrote a post at GNMParents last Friday about how Parenting When Family is Far Away compounds this sort of stress. Today my younger son (YS) had his pre-op appointment at the hospital. Apparently I'm either getting old, losing my mind (hey I'll be 33 on Saturday), or perhaps a combination of both because I have no recollection of having a pre-op appointment before my breast reduction surgery. Or maybe it's just that it wasn't required.
I had never been to this hospital before, but I knew where it was because of a very important landmark: the drive-thru Starbucks. The ENT must be a fellow coffee lover because he appeared to be on the same wavelength. When I mentioned knowing the location of the hospital because of the Starbucks, he commented how much he likes the drive-thru aspect!
YS and I arrived, and I was immediately impressed with the hospital. It was bright and clean and, oddly enough, cheerful. They had a lot of nice plants in the atrium. YS was seen promptly for his appointment. It was one long appointment. It lasted over an hour, and the nurse and nurse practioner who saw him were very thorough. They asked me all the usual medical history questions and then basically went over YS with a fine tooth comb. One nurse has been doing this for 25 years and gave me very detailed information on what to expect with both the surgery and recovery. Sheeven gave me a little schedule to follow (cafeteria for breakfast, coffee stand, then waiting room) to follow during the surgery to make the time fly. Is it possible that she knew me in a former life? Or maybe my house is bugged, because I had been worried about the slow tick of the clock during the surgery.
The good news is that both she and the nurse separately told me that YS was so calm during the physical that they really thought that he would have an easy recovery. Their reasoning was that a lot of times just being around doctors and nurses is traumatic for kids, never mind the surgery, so since YS was totally fine with being poked and prodded they felt he was one step ahead of the game. Whether it's true or not, I felt an immediate sense of relief. So much so that my MIL commented on how much more relaxed I looked when I walked into the house after the appointment. There is definitely an emotional benefit to parents from the pre-op appointment. I left feeling reassured. I not only knew that the hospital was near the Starbucks, but I knew where to park, where to go when we first arrived at the hospital on Friday, and what to expect during the recovery. Instead of waiting for the discharge from the hospital, they gave me the handouts including the food list and post-op treatment today.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly until I got home and remembered that my older son (OS) seems to have gone straight from age 5 to age 15 this week. How did I remember? Well, for the third day in a row, he told me that he hates me and that I'm the worst mother in the entire world. I am sure he will be far happier with my parenting this weekend when his brother is getting all of the attention. Wait wait wait! Before you take his side, not only has my MIL extended her visit so that he has has a grandma staying through YS's recovery, but I've arranged some special playdates as well as some alone time with him for later on in the recovery.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A calm child, cheerful hospital, experienced medical staff with good bedside manner, a visiting relative, and a nearby Starbucks can help a parent of a pre-op child manage stress.
There's nothing quite like coming in contact with great nurses. I'm so glad it was a good experience and helped put you both at ease! Keeping my fingers crossed that they're right about the easy recovery.
Yesterday I was out running errands. Alright I was out running errands because I am completely neurotic about my younger son's surgery. While I have little control over his pain management, I have total control over purchasing boxes of Mac and Cheese and other such items that others who have parented through this surgery have told me to stock up on. Plus I was starting to sound like a water buffalo when I was exercising and realized that it was time to refill my inhaler prescription!
As I was strapping myself into the car all set to go home I caught a glimpse of something absolutely terrifying in the rear view mirror: my eyebrows. Realizing I had just enough time I drove over to the eyebrow waxing place and got my problem fixed. Then I called the Big Giraffe and had the following conversation:
Alex Elliot (AE): I just got my eyebrows waxed. I think the esthetician is on the phone with her friends telling them that she just met Michael Dukakis. Big Giraffe(BG): I'm sure she did not think that. AE: It was pretty bad. She had to use a brush and scissors. I've never had that done. BG: That's pretty neat! AE: Excuse me? Neat would be if the cat brought me my slippers. Neat is not having gigantic scary eyebrows. BG: I still think it's cool. AE: I'm off to Verizon now. BG: Why? AE: Because every call I make on my cell phone is automatically on speaker phone. That's why I'm calling you from the car. I don't want everyone to know that every couple months I could be mistaken for Micheal Dukakis.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Neat eyebrows are well groomed eyebrows.
Happy holidays to you all! It's been a busy but fun week here. The funny thing is that I can't even tell you exactly what we've been doing except that I've laughed more this week than I have in a really long time. Don't get me wrong; I love to laugh much to the Big Giraffe's chagrin because there might be a slight tendency to have it be at his expense. Such as right now while I'm watching him trying virtual step aerobics on the new Wii Fit we got as a gift for Christmas.
Christmas Eve day the Big Giraffe ran a few errands while my MIL and I made cookies with the boys. I even made them from scratch and pulled out my cookie dough press. I have an itty bitty problem every year: operator error. The first several cookie sheets worth of cookies I make always look like a two year old got a hold of the cookie press. I master the cookie dough press by the last dozen cookies. Satisfied that I have put the cookie dough press back in place and made lovely cookies I then pack up the press and put it away for next Christmas Eve. We all found my cookies to be quite funny to my chagrin. The Big Giraffe told me in all seriousness that theis year's batch not only tastes better than last year's (thanks to the William Sonoma on-line recipe!) but also looks better. I like to think it's because the boys are better at decorating them, but the Big Giraffe has clarified that my technique with the cookie press has gotten better.
Christmas Day itself the boys were up bright and early. We opened gifts and then the Big Giraffe made us our traditional, delicious eggs benedict Christmas breakfast. We spent the rest of the morning and the afternoon playing with the kids and of course setting up their toys. We also set up the Wii and had a great time playing with it. All of us bowled together even my MIL. The Big Giraffe and I had a ton of fun competing in tennis. Then it was dinner time.
After much thought (on my part as everyone else said they really and truly didn't care) we bought a HoneyBaked Ham and a couple side dishes. This worked out perfectly because I was able to make homemade rolls (yes, from scratch!) and a homemade au gratin potato sidedish. We also had the Christmas cookies and a cake. The ham was already cooked so I had full use of the oven for my sidedishes. I was quite pleased with it. Then it was time to beat up the Big Giraffe at boxing to engage in some healthy sporting games.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A Wii offers more than a wee bit of fun.
In order to drive my friend and her family to the airport on Friday, I needed to arrange for my older son (OS) to go home from school with a friend. OS was absolutely thrilled. It was like Christmas had come early. In fact, all I had to do Monday morning was to remind him of the playdate, and he jumped right out of bed.
The friend's mom had graciously offered to keep OS until late afternoon so that the kids could have plenty of time to play. It turned out to be good not just for OS but for me as well. YS and I stopped for lunch, and it took a lot longer to get back than I originally thought it would. We ended up getting back just in time to pick OS up. Unfortunately, he was well into a movie called Rudolph's Shiny New Year. Not wanting to overstay our welcome and also having some things we needed to do, I promised OS that we would try to find the movie on TV later. Surely it would be playing many times again before Christmas.
Unfortunately, when I got home and looked on-line for the next showing, I couldn't find it anywhere. OS was upset and ready to nomimate me for worst mother of the year. I was able to appease him by pointing out that another showing of regular Rudolph was coming on that evening and we could record it. Unfortutunately Tivo deleted the one I had recorded last week. I even said he could stay up late as a special treat.
Later that evening the Big Giraffe, OS and I were camped out in front of the the TV. However, I kept on getting up to answer the phone, load the dishwasher and perhaps read blogs and check Facebook. Basically I had no idea what was going on in the movie. At a couple points the Big Giraffe and I even asked each other what movie this was. I briefly checked the info and read that it was a 2001 version. I assumed it was a re-make of the original Rudolph. However, when the singing hippotamus (not kidding) made her debut, I began to have an inkling that this was a different movie. Turns out it was Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and the Island of Misfit Toys. See I thought that's what the original movie was called.
OS loved the movie. Neither the Big Giraffe nor I were as impressed, by which I mean that there may have been a lot of eye rolling and stiffled laughing, pariticulalry at the part where the Abominable Snowman dressed up in a pink bunny costume as a disguise. OS kept on saying that he didn't look like he was in disguise and didn't understand why he was wearing the costume. If a five year old is picking up on the flaws of the movie...well...that's enough said right there.
Here's the worst part though. I'm about to reveal a spoiler so if you haven't seen this movie you might not want to read the next part or this movie may be ruined for you forever more!
S P O I L E R
S P A C E
Picture this said in a darky echoey voice. The bad guy turns out to be a forgotten teddy bear. Apparently he was a favorite toy of a boy until the boy grew up and put him in a box on a closet shelf. One day the bear got thrown out and ended up on a giant heap of trash in a dump. I could feel the tears building up. He got mad and vowed to take care of the forgotten toys. Santa explained that it was a mistake and in fact the boy wanted him very much. He was all grown up with his own child. I'm getting choked up even writing about this. This is worse than a Lifetime movie! Anyhow, at the end of the movie, a little girl in a crib snuggled up to the bear and then the grown up who had owned the bear as a boy came in to look at them happily. That's when I lost it. OS was pretty alarmed. I mean he was already confused by the Abominable Snowman in a bunny suit, but mommy crying over this movie; now that he completely didn't understand. Come to think of it, I don't either. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go find a kleenex to wipe up some tears and blow my nose.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Bad cartoons with hippotomauses and discarded, super-villain teddy bears can be as moving as any other drama.
*Apparently Rudolph's Shiny New Year will be on abcfamily this Sunday at 7:30 am EST followed at 8:30 by Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reinder and the Island of Misfit Toys.
You've never heard of the Island of Misfit Toys? This is a classic! Although to be honest, I don't think I've ever watched it... Anyway, I am in love with Bumble the Abominable Snowman. I used to have Bumble slippers, which I believe I got from Delia's, the teen clothing store. But I digress. Bumble rocks. And I'd cry like a baby over an abandoned teddy bear, too.
A while ago a friend asked me to drive her family to the airport because parking and car services are pretty expensive. I was happy to help, except for two things. First, the drive would coincide with my older son's (OS) preschool pickup. Second, I couldn't fit my friend's family, my younger son (YS), and me in my car at the same time. Size soon became the least of my car problems.
Last week as I was driving my boys to my older son's (OS) Tae Kwon Do lesson, it sounded like a group of preschoolers were planning the drums in my car. OS and my younger son (YS) were actually innocent. I know! I couldn't believe it myself. Not surprisingly, cars aren't supposed to make that noise. Unfortunately, the replacement axle wasn't in stock, and it needed to be ordered. I was told my car was safe to drive as long as it wasn't icy or snowing out. Hmm...call me crazy, but I think we may have just had the teensiest tiniest weather incident out here...so teenie that a state of emergency was declared and the National Guard was called out! That effectively meant we were down to one car.
At least we had our health...until I found a spot of blood at the foot of the bed where my cats typically sleep. After examining both cats and the dog, I was unsuccessful at finding any wound. I was unsure whether to be relieved or more concerned.
Fortunately, all problems had a solution. My friend suggested that we get around the car capacity issue by taking her car to the airport. I could then drive it back home. She further asked that we keep her car in our driveway to avoid it being towed in the event of another snowstorm. As long as we were going to take car of the car, she further, generously suggested that we borrow her car until my car gets fixed. Meanwhile, OS had been asking for a while to have a playdate with a close friend of his from preschool. Her mother agreed to pick OS up with her daughter. To describe OS as excited would be more of an understatement than my description of our snowstorm.
This morning, I felt things were on the right track. I even slept in a bit, skipped spinning class, and continued to extend the life of my less and less supportive and more and more stinky shoes by using the newly fixed treadmill in our basement. When I got off and pulled off my socks to get into the shower, I found the solution to the last problem. The source of blood at the foot of our bed had been a foot...specifically my foot. I apparently had a blister on my heel that was bleeding but fortunately didn't hurt.
I had a good conversation with my friend on the way to the airport. My friend doesn't need to pay for airport parking. I don't need to rent a car. OS had a fantastic playdate, filled with hugs and play. And I will be giving myself a holiday gift of running shoes this week.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Trivial problems have easy solutions.
I woke up on Friday morning for spinning class. It was raining out, and I debated going back to bed. I figured I would get up and look outside to determine whether it was safe. Since things looked okay, I drove to class without thinking too much about it. It was raining out, and there were a heavy puddles along the way. One person who was in the class commented that her alarm didn't go off because of the power outage. The rest of us were surprised. What power outage? We had no idea.
In fact it wasn't until I drove back from the gym that I heard on the radio that schools were being closed and that there were major power outages. It was actually raining hard enough to make me uncomfortable driving. That's pretty rare for me, but it left me relieved that school was cancelled. I later saw on TV that a state of emergency had been declared for MA. The Big Giraffe has many colleagues who live in Northern Massachusetts and New Hampshire who had no power, heat, or (worst of all) internet. I hadn't realized how bad things were closer to home until today, when calls started to come in from local friends who didn't or in many cases still don't have heat or electricity. We have offered to let people we know stay with us, and we also had one very nice couple call us assuming we didn't have electricity and ask if we would like to stay with them. We went to a mall on Friday night and it was jam packed. In hindsight, we realized the crowds were there probably because people were looking for a place to stay warm.
Today we went to a birthday party at one of those kids' birthday party places. The kids had a fantastic time. Many of the parents did not seem as upbeat. As we chatted, we learned that we were the only people there who had electricity! Worse, none of them were expecting to get power back until Monday.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: New England storms affect the whole region.
My mom asked me how you were faring and whether we'd be able to visit you this weekend, as she heard that the problems in your area were bad. Glad that you were spared!
that ice storm ad its problems was on the news here. I'd panic if I had no electricity in winter. it must be awefull to have children and not have heating. And all the food in the freezer is going bad. Oh gosh....is all electricity back now?
New England is a fairly dense region...can't they make investements in underground electricity cables??
Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
For those of us who didn't get an instruction manual with our babies and for whom parenting hasn't always gone as planned. On a more serious note this blog is about supporting a woman's ability to make her own choices about parenting including the choice, for whatever reason, to bottle feed her babies formula.
damn now I am curious