I go to Jamaica in 10 days. Only things standing between me and Jamaica at this point? One major project at work that has to be completed, the bikini wax I have scheduled for Saturday which is absolutely essential for spending a week in a bikini, and packing.
And it would be great to lose like five pounds between now and then, but since I'm not, I'm still going to rock my bikinis and rock them proudly for two reasons: (a) I don't know anyone in Jamaica so who cares what they think of my slight mommy pooch, and (b) We are going to Beaches, which is a family resort, so who cares what a bunch of little kids and Elmo and Big Bird think of me in a bikini? I actually ordered a new bikini from Victoria's Secret recently and, upon trying it on, worried that the bottom might be a smidge small. I mean, it covered everything, which is key, but I still felt a LEETLE nekkid in it. (Nekkid=naked and up to no good LOL!) I asked my husband what he thought and he replied: "It's not too small. You look good." Love my husband!
When I daydream about our Jamaica trip, it's all sunshine and Bob Marley songs and relaxing under palm trees. Which is how our last trip to Jamaica, four child-free years ago, was. I imagine this time is going to be more of the chasing-after-my-toddler-while-trying-to-keep-my boobs-and-butt-covered variety, with a Sesame Street soundtrack and no time for palm trees, but that's OK. My husband and I considered going to Jamaica and leaving our daughter with my parents, the grandparentals. But we like taking her places with us and seeing her have new experiences in new countries and cultures. And she loves Elmo and the gang, so I think it's going to be fun for all of us. And if I really need to relax under a palm tree, I can put her in the little Sesame Street day camp for a few hours LOL.
So this past weekend, my mother-in-law [MIL] was in town visiting us from Toronto. (See? Not a smooth transition--this is going to be a very random post.) The good part of her visit was that it was only three days. Oh, and I did enjoy shopping for shoes and sunglasses with her for two hours. That was actually really fun. But three days is about my limit.
My MIL is a nice person, but she analyzes everything everyone is doing to the point that she doesn't really enjoy anything. We took her out to eat at a nice restaurant in a nearby small town Saturday and we were sitting on the patio overlooking the river, enjoying the breeze and the food, and she was analyzing everyone's meal to determine whose was the healthiest option (my mother, the Nana's, which kind of upset her because she thought when she ordered hers it would be the healthiest) and whose was the worst (my husband's--chopped steak smothered in queso-yum) and sharing facts about the little town we were in from the brochure on our table. On the way home that night, she commented on how excited my parents were to see my daughter and how much she could tell they enjoyed playing with her, and all I could think was, yes, that's because they are her GRANDPARENTS and that's how most grandparents are! (She's not...she loves my daughter, but she's mostly focused on herself and what she wants--I attribute this to the fact that she's been divorced and living alone for about 30 years.)
The most trying thing about my MIL though is that she considers herself an expert on everything. She once explained to me what an oil change WAS and why she got them done. (Um, hello...I've been driving for 20 years...I think I grasp what an oil change is LOL!) She crossed the room to get her reading glasses this weekend to analyze the nutritious facts on the Graduates toddler meals we occasionally (read: regularly) feed our daughter and then lectured us on preservatives (even though the meals don't have any!) and fiber intake and sodium. Gah.
On the same infamous drive home Saturday night, she informed me that my daughter's swim coach was a lesbian, a fact she determined by observing my daughter's class for 15 minutes that morning. OK, to be fair, first she ASKED me if she was a lesbian. I replied that I didn't know, but that she was a good teacher and was very sweet with my daughter and the other babies. THEN she informed me that she was. "She had that weird tattoo of a pinup girl on her arm--she's a lesbian," she informed me. Then, she proceeded to explain for 10 hellish minutes how some lesbians have short hair, but some don't and she works with a lot of gay people, so SHE KNOWS. Meanwhile, I sat there praying for her to shut up with all of her stupid comments about gay people!
For me, when I first met my daughter's swim coach, I was a little puzzled as to why she would want a tattoo of a pinup girl in a red 50s-style bikini tattooed on her arm, but that's because I'm not a tattoo person. I didn't consider whether it meant she was gay or not, because I just don't care. I went to a small liberal arts university. I have gay friends. I don't have issues with that. I just don't like tattoos. I thought about it for all of about three seconds before she opened her mouth to start class and was just a very sweet early-20s girl who is amazingly patient and has fun while teaching my daughter and the other babies in her class. And that's ALL I care about. So I was especially irritated because I hadn't realized my MIL had some sort of issues with the gays she knows so much about LOL, and because HELLO--she was supposed to be watching her granddaughter swim! Not analyzing everything as usual. Sigh.
Anyhoo, let's just say I'm glad she lives in Canada and I only see her once or twice a year. How much was I over her visit by the time we put her on the plane? Well, despite my recent post about margaritas, I am a very infrequent drinker, maybe having one drink every few weeks or sometimes months. After we dropped her at the airport on Sunday and went home and put our daughter down for a nap, I opened a bottle of wine, drank three-fourths of it, and took a big nap myself!
Jamaica can't come fast enough.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Kids' Birthday Parties: Yay or Nay?
I just threw my daughter a party for her 2nd birthday. It was a Western Backyardigans Birthday Bonanza. My daughter loves, loves, loves the Backyardigans and we live in Texas, so I wanted to combine them with a cowgirl/cowboy theme.
We rented out a local western-themed indoor playplace with a bouncy house, slide, swings, and party room, and had the whole place for two hours. (My daughter spent most of the party in the bouncy house with the exception of coming out to eat LOL.) We decorated the partyroom in western/Backyardigans birthday decor and played a few of the Backyardigans' western-themed episodes in the party room while everyone was eating.
Now lucky for me, I didn't have to do all of this by myself. My mother, aka the Nana, is a party planner extraordinaire. She totally missed her calling and should do party planning professionally; she is incredibly good at it.
Of course, she's had lots of practice. She planned themed birthday parties for me every year from when I turned one till my sweet 16. I had a Mickey Mouse party and a Snow White party and a Cinderella party and a Strawberry Shortcake party, plus a McDonald's party, a skating party, a putt-putt golf party, and on and on. She did everything from renting a village hall for my 4th birthday when we were living in England, to pitching a tent in our backyard for a camp out party for my 9th birthday, to renting a country club pool/outdoor volleyball area for my sweet 16. (One of my gifts at my sweet 16 was a photo album she put together for me with pictures from every one of my birthday parties!)
Now, my parents are not and never have been rich by any stretch of the imagination, but my mother has always tried to make my birthdays special with whatever she had. And when I asked her about why she did that, she talked to me about her own birthdays. My mother grew up poor in Alabama, one of 10 children. For her birthday, my grandma usually made a cake from scratch for them to eat at dinner, which was delicious, but was divided among all those kids. Depending on money, my mom might have gotten one present, like a doll, but more than likely, she got something she needed, like a new pair of shoes. That was really it. So making my parties a real event, something beautiful and special, made her really happy. She kind of re-lived her childhood dreams vicariously through them!
So, with this kind of childhood birthday experience, of course, I think throwing a fun birthday party for my daughter is important and something you just DO. I've never questioned that I will throw my daughter some sort of party or gathering every year until she turns 16. (As if the Nana would let me NOT throw my daughter a birthday party if I felt differently LOL.)
A friend questioned me about it though a few months ago, not really understanding why I was throwing a party for my daughter--who was I going to invite after all? Which I thought was a weird question.
Now for some background...this friend is one of my best mom friends and her daughter is three months older than mine. Her daughter's birthday falls in the same week as her husband's birthday. So last year, when her daughter turned one, they had a luau party for her husband and his best friend whose birthday is also in the same week, and just had an extra cake for her daughter, but it wasn't really her party per se. I didn't see anything wrong with that...it was actually really cute because my friend's husband got a Hawaiian shirt to wear at the party that had a matching dress for their daughter, so it was tres adorable! Everyone at the party was an adult though, except her daughter, our daughter, and one or two other older children that came with their parents.
When my friend's daughter's 2nd birthday rolled around a few months ago, I kind of expected her to throw her daughter a little party, but once again, we were invited to an adult party for the two guys, with an extra cake for the little birthday girl turning two. We RSVPed, and then my daughter and I were having dinner with the friend and her daughter and my other mom friend and her son, and my other mom friend asked me what I was doing for my daughter's birthday in three months. I had just reserved the playplace, so I mentioned we were renting that and having the party there.
And that's when my friend started asking me questions. Why was I throwing my daughter a party? Her main issue seemed to be, who would I possibly invite? Which was odd, because she, her husband, and her daughter all came to the 1st birthday ballerina-themed party I threw at my house for my daughter last year, so it wasn't like she hadn't already seen one of my parties in action. Well, I said, I'm inviting all the folks that came to the party last year (my parents, a few of my girlfriends, and their children), plus some of my daughter's friends from school (and their parents, of course).
And this seemed to be her main issue. She was surprised my daughter has "friends." Now granted, my daughter's two and they mostly parallel play still at this point, but she has been going to her day school with a certain group of children for the last 20 months. She sees these babies all day, every day, four days a week. They play and sing and read and eat and go potty together LOL. In my mind, they're friends! And my friend considers her daughter, who we only see every few weeks on playdates, my daughter's friend, so why wouldn't her classmates who she sees every day be her friends?!
I just thought it was weird...her daughter has been in daycare since she was 10 weeks old, longer than my daughter has, so I was surprised she didn't consider any of the kids in her daycare class her daughter's friends, or know any of their parents. (I only invited kids who I know pretty well and whose parents I've at least chatted with a few times in passing--some I know better than others.)
I don't know if she was just feeling insecure/competitive because she wasn't having a separate party for her daughter, and was using that as an excuse, or if she really thinks her daughter has no friends. I think it would be sad to think my daughter was in school all day and wasn't friends with any of those kids! Recently, I talked to my daughter about the concept of best friends and asked her if she had a best friend. Usually, she'll only parrot back the name of anyone I say, so I specifically did not name anyone...just asked the question and let it lie there. She thought for a minute and then said the name of a little girl who was invited to the party from her class! I asked again if she had a best friend and she repeated the little girl's name, so I was very excited to think she considers that little girl her best friend.
Anyway, so all this got me thinking...what do most people think about little kid birthday parties: yay or nay? Do you think it's a waste because your child really doesn't have "friends" at such a young age or are you, like me, all into hosting a party? I think that, like my mother before me, I am living vicariously through my daughter's parties too. :)
The cake--I did not make this myself
The Birthday Girl in her boots, ready to go!
We rented out a local western-themed indoor playplace with a bouncy house, slide, swings, and party room, and had the whole place for two hours. (My daughter spent most of the party in the bouncy house with the exception of coming out to eat LOL.) We decorated the partyroom in western/Backyardigans birthday decor and played a few of the Backyardigans' western-themed episodes in the party room while everyone was eating.
The party room before--my mother, the Nana, sewed all the gingham tablecloths
Party decor--my mother bought the little hats to put on the Backyardigan Beanie Babies LOL
We served pizza, cake, and ice cream cups, plus juice boxes for the kids and soda or water for the adults. Every kid left the party with either a pink or blue cowboy hat and a little gift bag of Backyardigans goodies, plus a CD I burned of my daughter's favorite songs. Our party guests included 12 kids, about half of them from my daughter's classes at day school and half of them children of my close girlfriends, plus the birthday girl, and 14 adults, including the parents of all of those children, my husband and me, and my parents, aka the grandparentals.
My daughter and two friends in the bouncy house
Guests swinging
The kiddie zip line
Dressing up like a cowboy!
Everyone eating in the party room
Now lucky for me, I didn't have to do all of this by myself. My mother, aka the Nana, is a party planner extraordinaire. She totally missed her calling and should do party planning professionally; she is incredibly good at it.
Of course, she's had lots of practice. She planned themed birthday parties for me every year from when I turned one till my sweet 16. I had a Mickey Mouse party and a Snow White party and a Cinderella party and a Strawberry Shortcake party, plus a McDonald's party, a skating party, a putt-putt golf party, and on and on. She did everything from renting a village hall for my 4th birthday when we were living in England, to pitching a tent in our backyard for a camp out party for my 9th birthday, to renting a country club pool/outdoor volleyball area for my sweet 16. (One of my gifts at my sweet 16 was a photo album she put together for me with pictures from every one of my birthday parties!)
The Nana should do this professionally--
you should see how beautiful my bridal tea, rehearsal dinner,
and later baby shower turned out!
you should see how beautiful my bridal tea, rehearsal dinner,
and later baby shower turned out!
Now, my parents are not and never have been rich by any stretch of the imagination, but my mother has always tried to make my birthdays special with whatever she had. And when I asked her about why she did that, she talked to me about her own birthdays. My mother grew up poor in Alabama, one of 10 children. For her birthday, my grandma usually made a cake from scratch for them to eat at dinner, which was delicious, but was divided among all those kids. Depending on money, my mom might have gotten one present, like a doll, but more than likely, she got something she needed, like a new pair of shoes. That was really it. So making my parties a real event, something beautiful and special, made her really happy. She kind of re-lived her childhood dreams vicariously through them!
So, with this kind of childhood birthday experience, of course, I think throwing a fun birthday party for my daughter is important and something you just DO. I've never questioned that I will throw my daughter some sort of party or gathering every year until she turns 16. (As if the Nana would let me NOT throw my daughter a birthday party if I felt differently LOL.)
If I hadn't planned to throw a party, the Nana definitely would've!
A friend questioned me about it though a few months ago, not really understanding why I was throwing a party for my daughter--who was I going to invite after all? Which I thought was a weird question.
Now for some background...this friend is one of my best mom friends and her daughter is three months older than mine. Her daughter's birthday falls in the same week as her husband's birthday. So last year, when her daughter turned one, they had a luau party for her husband and his best friend whose birthday is also in the same week, and just had an extra cake for her daughter, but it wasn't really her party per se. I didn't see anything wrong with that...it was actually really cute because my friend's husband got a Hawaiian shirt to wear at the party that had a matching dress for their daughter, so it was tres adorable! Everyone at the party was an adult though, except her daughter, our daughter, and one or two other older children that came with their parents.
When my friend's daughter's 2nd birthday rolled around a few months ago, I kind of expected her to throw her daughter a little party, but once again, we were invited to an adult party for the two guys, with an extra cake for the little birthday girl turning two. We RSVPed, and then my daughter and I were having dinner with the friend and her daughter and my other mom friend and her son, and my other mom friend asked me what I was doing for my daughter's birthday in three months. I had just reserved the playplace, so I mentioned we were renting that and having the party there.
And that's when my friend started asking me questions. Why was I throwing my daughter a party? Her main issue seemed to be, who would I possibly invite? Which was odd, because she, her husband, and her daughter all came to the 1st birthday ballerina-themed party I threw at my house for my daughter last year, so it wasn't like she hadn't already seen one of my parties in action. Well, I said, I'm inviting all the folks that came to the party last year (my parents, a few of my girlfriends, and their children), plus some of my daughter's friends from school (and their parents, of course).
Last year's 1st birthday party for my daughter--theme was ballerinas.
The doll at left was mine as a child and the Nana made the cover that turned the highchair into one big tutu!
The doll at left was mine as a child and the Nana made the cover that turned the highchair into one big tutu!
My daughter's outfit for her 1st birthday--she wasn't quite walking yet!
And this seemed to be her main issue. She was surprised my daughter has "friends." Now granted, my daughter's two and they mostly parallel play still at this point, but she has been going to her day school with a certain group of children for the last 20 months. She sees these babies all day, every day, four days a week. They play and sing and read and eat and go potty together LOL. In my mind, they're friends! And my friend considers her daughter, who we only see every few weeks on playdates, my daughter's friend, so why wouldn't her classmates who she sees every day be her friends?!
My daughter's friend from school--he's actually the first little boy to hold hands with her
when they were mere babies in the nursery (daughter is wearing new outfit due to a poop incident LOL)
when they were mere babies in the nursery (daughter is wearing new outfit due to a poop incident LOL)
I just thought it was weird...her daughter has been in daycare since she was 10 weeks old, longer than my daughter has, so I was surprised she didn't consider any of the kids in her daycare class her daughter's friends, or know any of their parents. (I only invited kids who I know pretty well and whose parents I've at least chatted with a few times in passing--some I know better than others.)
This is my friend's little boy who does not go to school with my daughter,
but goes in for a hug everytime he sees her! He's my favorite potential future son-in-law LOL!
but goes in for a hug everytime he sees her! He's my favorite potential future son-in-law LOL!
I don't know if she was just feeling insecure/competitive because she wasn't having a separate party for her daughter, and was using that as an excuse, or if she really thinks her daughter has no friends. I think it would be sad to think my daughter was in school all day and wasn't friends with any of those kids! Recently, I talked to my daughter about the concept of best friends and asked her if she had a best friend. Usually, she'll only parrot back the name of anyone I say, so I specifically did not name anyone...just asked the question and let it lie there. She thought for a minute and then said the name of a little girl who was invited to the party from her class! I asked again if she had a best friend and she repeated the little girl's name, so I was very excited to think she considers that little girl her best friend.
The little girl my daughter named as her friend
Anyway, so all this got me thinking...what do most people think about little kid birthday parties: yay or nay? Do you think it's a waste because your child really doesn't have "friends" at such a young age or are you, like me, all into hosting a party? I think that, like my mother before me, I am living vicariously through my daughter's parties too. :)
Glam-O-Mommy and daughter, enjoying pizza
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Break the Funk: Ask Glam-O-Mommy
Glam-O-Readers, I've been in a bit of a funk this past week. Not sure if it's a post-baby's birthday letdown or pre-mother-in-law's visit meltdown (Cannot. Keep. House. Clean. EEK) or if it's a I'm-Working-on-Two-High-Level-and-Highly-Annoying-Projects-at-Work-That-Will-Never-End breakdown, or just the fact that I haven't had a vacation since February and Jamaica is still 20 days away.
The funk has extended to my blog. I keep starting posts, getting a few paragraphs in, and then setting them aside, unsure if I want to declare my thoughts and feelings on a variety of topics...just at a bit of a loss as to what to say.
So, I'm looking to you for ideas...what do you WANT to know about me? Or any thoughts/positions/opinions I have on anything related to motherhood or anything else? I reserve the right to not answer certain questions, as I'm obviously protecting my privacy a little bit here, but other than that, ask away. I'm generally an open book in real life, and am curious what you want to know about me, based on what you've already read/seen here.
Post your questions in the comments...and I'll post a response blog answering the questions soon!
Come on...you know you want to ask me something! Here's your chance. :)
The funk has extended to my blog. I keep starting posts, getting a few paragraphs in, and then setting them aside, unsure if I want to declare my thoughts and feelings on a variety of topics...just at a bit of a loss as to what to say.
So, I'm looking to you for ideas...what do you WANT to know about me? Or any thoughts/positions/opinions I have on anything related to motherhood or anything else? I reserve the right to not answer certain questions, as I'm obviously protecting my privacy a little bit here, but other than that, ask away. I'm generally an open book in real life, and am curious what you want to know about me, based on what you've already read/seen here.
Post your questions in the comments...and I'll post a response blog answering the questions soon!
Come on...you know you want to ask me something! Here's your chance. :)
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Two Years of Miracles and Dreams Come True
"I was waiting for so long/For a miracle to come/Everyone told me to be strong/Hold on and don't shed a tear.
Through the darkness and good times/I knew I'd make it through/And the world thought I had it all/But I was waiting for you..."
--From A New Day Has Come by Celine Dion
Two years ago today...I met an angel God sent to me. She saved my life.
When I look at her, I believe miracles can happen. Dreams can come true.
Thank you, God, for answering my prayer.
Happy birthday, Big Girl. Mommy loves you SO much!
Through the darkness and good times/I knew I'd make it through/And the world thought I had it all/But I was waiting for you..."
--From A New Day Has Come by Celine Dion
Two years ago today...I met an angel God sent to me. She saved my life.
Glam-O-Mommy meets daughter
Ready to go home--third day
First moments at home
8 lbs 6 oz, 21 inches long
When I look at her, I believe miracles can happen. Dreams can come true.
One month old
Seven months old
One year old
Thank you, God, for answering my prayer.
Two years old, 30 lbs 8 oz, 37.25 inches long
Happy birthday, Big Girl. Mommy loves you SO much!
Cowgirl cutie, ready for her big party
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
This Blog Absence Brought to You by Twilight
I was on a really good blogging roll during the month of July, and then, almost three weeks ago, I discovered the Twilight phenomenon.
Now, I haven't been living under a rock. The first movie came out while I was on maternity leave, so I heard about it, but was a scooch more focused on my DARLING, ADORABLE BABY to go to a movie or read a book. Since then, obviously, I've heard all about the movies and the books when New Moon came out and then again just six weeks ago, when Eclipse premiered.
And still...very little interest in seeing the movies or reading the books. Kind of thought people were a little crazy for being obsessed with it. Not sure why...Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner are hot and I like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but really did not care for Interview with a Vampire, and I think I mistakenly thought it would be more Rice-like than Scooby Gang.
And then, on a random Sunday night, with nothing on TV, I happened upon the movie on Showtime. I watched the last half and thought, hmm...interesting. My husband was out of town for the week, and TV was a wasteland, so when I saw it was on again the next night (gotta love Showtime), I DVR'd it and watched it after my daughter went to bed.
And that was it...I was obsessed. Crazy.
The following night I rented New Moon. And then I watched Twilight again Wednesday and Thursday night. When my husband came home Friday night, I was like, hey--good to see you! I'm going to see a 10:20 showing of Eclipse! Watch the baby for me!
And then I bought all four of the books and read them in about six days. I'm a fast reader, but even so, my husband was impressed...and probably a little perplexed with why his wife was all of a sudden obsessed with vampires and wolves LOL.
And then I bought the Twilight soundtrack and put it in heavy rotation on my iPod.
Note to other parents: The slow or instrumental songs on this soundtrack do an excellent job of lulling toddlers to sleep in the car.
More Twilight watching, ANOTHER rental of New Moon ensued this week, and I'm plotting to go see Eclipse again this weekend. Somebody help me.
In fairness, my Twilight obsession is not the ONLY thing that has kept me from blogging. I'm smack dab in the middle of two MAJOR projects at work that are causing me to want to tear my perfectly highlighted hair right out of my head and making me work some extra hours. I'm also in the final stages of party planning for my daughter's second birthday extravaganza next weekend, trying to figure out where to take her for two-year portraits now that my favorite studio has closed, shopping for our upcoming Jamaica vacation, and still carrying a bit of the parental load, although my husband is slowly doing better on the recovery front.
BUT...Twilight is probably the biggest factor in my lack of blogging, since I've mostly watched and re-watched it after my daughter goes to bed, which is usually when I blog. :) I'll try to be better, if I can resist temptation...
And for the record...TEAM EDWARD all the way!
Now, I haven't been living under a rock. The first movie came out while I was on maternity leave, so I heard about it, but was a scooch more focused on my DARLING, ADORABLE BABY to go to a movie or read a book. Since then, obviously, I've heard all about the movies and the books when New Moon came out and then again just six weeks ago, when Eclipse premiered.
And still...very little interest in seeing the movies or reading the books. Kind of thought people were a little crazy for being obsessed with it. Not sure why...Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner are hot and I like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but really did not care for Interview with a Vampire, and I think I mistakenly thought it would be more Rice-like than Scooby Gang.
And then, on a random Sunday night, with nothing on TV, I happened upon the movie on Showtime. I watched the last half and thought, hmm...interesting. My husband was out of town for the week, and TV was a wasteland, so when I saw it was on again the next night (gotta love Showtime), I DVR'd it and watched it after my daughter went to bed.
And that was it...I was obsessed. Crazy.
The following night I rented New Moon. And then I watched Twilight again Wednesday and Thursday night. When my husband came home Friday night, I was like, hey--good to see you! I'm going to see a 10:20 showing of Eclipse! Watch the baby for me!
And then I bought all four of the books and read them in about six days. I'm a fast reader, but even so, my husband was impressed...and probably a little perplexed with why his wife was all of a sudden obsessed with vampires and wolves LOL.
And then I bought the Twilight soundtrack and put it in heavy rotation on my iPod.
Note to other parents: The slow or instrumental songs on this soundtrack do an excellent job of lulling toddlers to sleep in the car.
More Twilight watching, ANOTHER rental of New Moon ensued this week, and I'm plotting to go see Eclipse again this weekend. Somebody help me.
In fairness, my Twilight obsession is not the ONLY thing that has kept me from blogging. I'm smack dab in the middle of two MAJOR projects at work that are causing me to want to tear my perfectly highlighted hair right out of my head and making me work some extra hours. I'm also in the final stages of party planning for my daughter's second birthday extravaganza next weekend, trying to figure out where to take her for two-year portraits now that my favorite studio has closed, shopping for our upcoming Jamaica vacation, and still carrying a bit of the parental load, although my husband is slowly doing better on the recovery front.
BUT...Twilight is probably the biggest factor in my lack of blogging, since I've mostly watched and re-watched it after my daughter goes to bed, which is usually when I blog. :) I'll try to be better, if I can resist temptation...
And for the record...TEAM EDWARD all the way!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Margaritas by 9 a.m.
You know your day is not going well when you feel like downing a couple of margaritas by 9 a.m. in the morning. Especially when you can't remember the last time you had a margarita or alcohol of any kind.
My day started with a jolt as I accidentally turned my alarm off instead of hitting the snooze. I woke up an hour later, knowing I had no hope of getting my daughter to school in time to eat her school breakfast. What is key here is that her school breakfast is her SECOND breakfast of the day...she has milk and a handful of Cheerios when she gets up at home, then, within an hour, she has a second breakfast at school...usually something like milk, a muffin, and a big slice of honeydew melon. She cannot miss the school breakfast. Or any other meal. EVER.
She's not a picky eater, my kid. I am, extremely, so I'm constantly amazed I created this little person who has yet to dislike any food I put in front of her. I feed her all kinds of healthy fruits and veggies and stuff that I don't actually eat myself and she LOVES it. So I try to ensure she always gets to school in time to have the school breakfast. She does not like to miss a meal!
So as I rushed around trying to get ready, I gave her a banana in addition to her regular breakfast since we were going to miss the school breakfast. She scarfed it in less than a minute and wanted more, so I gave her a second banana, which she also polished off quickly, and then I gave her a little extra milk. BREAKFAST ACCOMPLISHED.
Finally ready myself, I thought it would take me my normal 10 minutes to get her ready. Forty-five minutes later, sweaty and defeated, we finally left for school.
The minute I tried to get her dressed, she threw one of the biggest fits I've ever seen. She cried. She crawled away as I tried to change her diaper. She refused all my attempts to put her pants on. I took a break and gave her a minute to calm down, then tried again. More flailing and crying on the floor. Then, I tried my "I'm going to have to leave without you" trick, wherein I say, sadly, "Oh well. If you're not going to get dressed, Mommy's going to have to go ahead and go without you." Then, I take my purse, her bag, my lunch, and other assorted crap to the car, and by the time I'm back in less than a minute, she is usually eager to go with me and very compliant as I dress her. Not today! More wailing and flailing about on the floor ensued. At this point, I began talking directly to and trying to make deals with God. Seriously.
Finally, I wrestled her into her clothes and then put her socks on. She cried and tried to take them back off as if she were in pain from the socks, so totally defeated at this point, I took them back off. Then, she immediately got hysterical, crying, "Socks! Socks!" and put her feet out for me to PUT THE SAME SOCKS BACK ON. So I did. Then I put her shoes on and gave her a paci. And she finally calmed down. (Should've used the paci earlier, but I try to only let her have it in her crib and nowhere else.) Finally calm (both of us), but sweaty and frazzled (me), I took her out to the car. Where she promptly flailed a little as I was going to put her in the car and hit her head on the corner of the car door. And then more wailing ensued. I'm sure my neighbors think I'm an awesome mom.
The 15-minute drive to her school was oddly silent. Neither of us happily sang along to the Laurie Berkner Band as we do most mornings.We were both kind of exhausted and defeated. At school, I hugged her and told her I was sorry for not handling her hysterics well and I was sure she was sorry she didn't just get dressed protest-free as she does most days. I felt it was important for both of us to own our mistakes. I then drove the few blocks to my office, went into my office, and sat down at my desk, totally deflated.
And desperately craving a couple of frosty margaritas. Like, seriously wondering, do they sell margaritas at 9 a.m.? This is San Antonio, home of the best margaritas in the world...surely someone is selling them at this time of the morning?! I'll just say I'm going on a Starbucks run and go hit a bar. I'm obviously not doing well as a mother. I need a drink!
Then, the crap started rolling in at work and I let my mommy guilt go and tried to deal with the work in front of me and get through the day.
At the end of the day, I started thinking about my poor daughter though. She is a child that lives and dies by routine. Not a schedule...just a routine. Like, if I say let's go take a bath, no matter what time of day the bath happens, she has to go get her towel first, then get in the tub, then when she gets out she tells the water goodbye, then she runs naked to her table and puts her arms up for me to pick her up and dress her. Every time. She thrives on routine.
And in the last month, her routine has been off. Way off. First, she spent three days with my parents while my husband was in the hospital. Then, my husband, a super hands-on Daddy, suddenly can't do all the many things he normally does with her and she doesn't understand why. Mommy is doing everything, including all the school runs to and fro. Nana is coming over two nights a week to handle her dinner, bath, and bedtime so Mommy can go to a class and Daddy still can't do those things. This week, Daddy is out of town at a training course, and she doesn't understand where he is. Her life's been kind of turned upside down a bit and the only thing she can do is refuse to go potty on the potty (total regression in potty training since my husband's surgery) and throw a crying fit because she doesn't know why Daddy's not there in the morning to help her get dressed or take her to school.
That's how an almost-two-year-old copes with stress. Her 37-year-old mother just craves margaritas at inappropriate times of the day.
My day started with a jolt as I accidentally turned my alarm off instead of hitting the snooze. I woke up an hour later, knowing I had no hope of getting my daughter to school in time to eat her school breakfast. What is key here is that her school breakfast is her SECOND breakfast of the day...she has milk and a handful of Cheerios when she gets up at home, then, within an hour, she has a second breakfast at school...usually something like milk, a muffin, and a big slice of honeydew melon. She cannot miss the school breakfast. Or any other meal. EVER.
She's not a picky eater, my kid. I am, extremely, so I'm constantly amazed I created this little person who has yet to dislike any food I put in front of her. I feed her all kinds of healthy fruits and veggies and stuff that I don't actually eat myself and she LOVES it. So I try to ensure she always gets to school in time to have the school breakfast. She does not like to miss a meal!
So as I rushed around trying to get ready, I gave her a banana in addition to her regular breakfast since we were going to miss the school breakfast. She scarfed it in less than a minute and wanted more, so I gave her a second banana, which she also polished off quickly, and then I gave her a little extra milk. BREAKFAST ACCOMPLISHED.
Finally ready myself, I thought it would take me my normal 10 minutes to get her ready. Forty-five minutes later, sweaty and defeated, we finally left for school.
The minute I tried to get her dressed, she threw one of the biggest fits I've ever seen. She cried. She crawled away as I tried to change her diaper. She refused all my attempts to put her pants on. I took a break and gave her a minute to calm down, then tried again. More flailing and crying on the floor. Then, I tried my "I'm going to have to leave without you" trick, wherein I say, sadly, "Oh well. If you're not going to get dressed, Mommy's going to have to go ahead and go without you." Then, I take my purse, her bag, my lunch, and other assorted crap to the car, and by the time I'm back in less than a minute, she is usually eager to go with me and very compliant as I dress her. Not today! More wailing and flailing about on the floor ensued. At this point, I began talking directly to and trying to make deals with God. Seriously.
Finally, I wrestled her into her clothes and then put her socks on. She cried and tried to take them back off as if she were in pain from the socks, so totally defeated at this point, I took them back off. Then, she immediately got hysterical, crying, "Socks! Socks!" and put her feet out for me to PUT THE SAME SOCKS BACK ON. So I did. Then I put her shoes on and gave her a paci. And she finally calmed down. (Should've used the paci earlier, but I try to only let her have it in her crib and nowhere else.) Finally calm (both of us), but sweaty and frazzled (me), I took her out to the car. Where she promptly flailed a little as I was going to put her in the car and hit her head on the corner of the car door. And then more wailing ensued. I'm sure my neighbors think I'm an awesome mom.
The 15-minute drive to her school was oddly silent. Neither of us happily sang along to the Laurie Berkner Band as we do most mornings.We were both kind of exhausted and defeated. At school, I hugged her and told her I was sorry for not handling her hysterics well and I was sure she was sorry she didn't just get dressed protest-free as she does most days. I felt it was important for both of us to own our mistakes. I then drove the few blocks to my office, went into my office, and sat down at my desk, totally deflated.
And desperately craving a couple of frosty margaritas. Like, seriously wondering, do they sell margaritas at 9 a.m.? This is San Antonio, home of the best margaritas in the world...surely someone is selling them at this time of the morning?! I'll just say I'm going on a Starbucks run and go hit a bar. I'm obviously not doing well as a mother. I need a drink!
Then, the crap started rolling in at work and I let my mommy guilt go and tried to deal with the work in front of me and get through the day.
At the end of the day, I started thinking about my poor daughter though. She is a child that lives and dies by routine. Not a schedule...just a routine. Like, if I say let's go take a bath, no matter what time of day the bath happens, she has to go get her towel first, then get in the tub, then when she gets out she tells the water goodbye, then she runs naked to her table and puts her arms up for me to pick her up and dress her. Every time. She thrives on routine.
And in the last month, her routine has been off. Way off. First, she spent three days with my parents while my husband was in the hospital. Then, my husband, a super hands-on Daddy, suddenly can't do all the many things he normally does with her and she doesn't understand why. Mommy is doing everything, including all the school runs to and fro. Nana is coming over two nights a week to handle her dinner, bath, and bedtime so Mommy can go to a class and Daddy still can't do those things. This week, Daddy is out of town at a training course, and she doesn't understand where he is. Her life's been kind of turned upside down a bit and the only thing she can do is refuse to go potty on the potty (total regression in potty training since my husband's surgery) and throw a crying fit because she doesn't know why Daddy's not there in the morning to help her get dressed or take her to school.
That's how an almost-two-year-old copes with stress. Her 37-year-old mother just craves margaritas at inappropriate times of the day.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
I'm 37, But I Don't Want to Be an Older Mommy
I'm 37.
I turned this age over two months ago, but I find myself thinking about it a lot lately, especially as I am reading other people's blogs. I'm fairly sure the majority of bloggers I read are in their late 20s/early 30s, and many of them are moms of small children. And in my head, I totally think of them as my peers, but then they sometimes make a comment that tips me off to the fact that they are younger than me. And it's a little depressing, because I am also a mom of a small child, but I am an OLDER MOMMY.
Here's the thing... my mom had me when she was 24. When she was 37, she was having a full hysterectomy and I was 13, in junior high, angsting over whether any boys would ever grow taller than me, and listening to Tears for Fears and Heart.
Now, I'm 37, possibly peri-menopausal (why the heck else am I so darn HOT all the time? I used to be a cold person!), with an almost two-year-old, who is in day school, ignoring boys, and listening to Elmo and the Laurie Berkner Band.
I don't want to be an OLDER MOMMY. I still feel like a cool, vibrant young person most of the time--I stay up with the latest technology and movies and pop culture and all that. I tweet, FB, text, etc. I watch Glee and listen to Lady Gaga and Katy Perry. I know who Justin Bieber is. Granted, I'm just now catching up on the Twilight movies, but in my defense, the first movie came out the year I gave birth. I was kind of busy then and have been ever since. But I am trying to catch up on all of that because I don't want to be an OLDER MOMMY not with the times like the woman I'll call Mrs. S.
When I was 11, about sixth grade I guess, I had three close friends: K, J, and R. My mother was 35 at the time, as was K's mom. J's mom was only about 30, possibly a little younger, as she had her as a teenager. R's mom, Mrs. S, was 45. She was an OLDER MOMMY.
My mom and most of my friends' moms let us watch MTV* and knew all the latest bands and singers we liked--Hall and Oates, Huey Lewis and the News, Michael Jackson, Duran Duran, etc. Mrs. S never let R watch MTV or popular movies or anything like that. She didn't let R watch the premiere of Michael Jackson's Thriller video! Only the biggest cultural phenomenon of our time, the Thriller video, and she was not allowed to see it! Her mom just didn't understand any of that stuff.
*Note to younger readers: Back in 1983-84 when this story takes place, MTV actually played music videos 24-7. Seriously. IT. WAS. AWESOME. None of this Snooki-Jersey Shore crap.
So anyway, we always felt really sorry for R because her mom seemed so much older than our moms, and so out of touch with the times. And as I do the math, when my own daughter turns 11, I am going to be 46. One year older than Mrs. S was at the time--EEK!
I don't want to be like Mrs. S, an OLDER MOMMY! I mean, 40's the new 30, right? Look at the Sex and the City gals! I want to be tuned in to the latest trends and music...not in a way that will embarrass my kid or anything (I mean, Madonna's rocking and still awesome in her 50s, but I kind of think she should give up the leotards, you know? And cover up her arms--they kind of freak me out!), just in a way that she can relate to me and will think I'm a pretty cool Mommy when I'm picking her up from school with all the 20- and 30-something moms of her classmates LOL.
I kind of hope that tattoos and body piercings (other than ears) are out of fashion by the time my daughter is older, because if she wants those, I really will sound like an OLDER MOMMY. I can't help it--it was instilled in me by my proper Southern mother that nice girls just don't do those things LOL. The one time my mother seemed like an OLDER MOMMY to me was when I wanted to get one (ONE!) extra hole pierced in one of my ears (whichever one was the cool ear to do so, I can't remember now). She balked at this initially, but finally relented on the condition that I get one extra hole in BOTH ears, so as not to look lopsided or asymetrical, which kind of defeated the whole purpose. (Seriously. I am not making this up!)
So to my Future Tween and Teenage Daughter, I make this promise: I will try hard to be young at heart and up with the times so that you want to talk to me and share your world with me, but not so into it that I embarrass you. I will let you watch the cool cultural phenomenon-type events as they occur and take you to concerts by your favorite bands.
I only ask two things of you in return: (1) Please stay my little girl as long as you can--you have the rest of your life to be a grown-up, and (2) Please only pierce your ears and don't get any tattoos. Please. For me and for my mother, your Nana. OK? :)
I turned this age over two months ago, but I find myself thinking about it a lot lately, especially as I am reading other people's blogs. I'm fairly sure the majority of bloggers I read are in their late 20s/early 30s, and many of them are moms of small children. And in my head, I totally think of them as my peers, but then they sometimes make a comment that tips me off to the fact that they are younger than me. And it's a little depressing, because I am also a mom of a small child, but I am an OLDER MOMMY.
Here's the thing... my mom had me when she was 24. When she was 37, she was having a full hysterectomy and I was 13, in junior high, angsting over whether any boys would ever grow taller than me, and listening to Tears for Fears and Heart.
Now, I'm 37, possibly peri-menopausal (why the heck else am I so darn HOT all the time? I used to be a cold person!), with an almost two-year-old, who is in day school, ignoring boys, and listening to Elmo and the Laurie Berkner Band.
I don't want to be an OLDER MOMMY. I still feel like a cool, vibrant young person most of the time--I stay up with the latest technology and movies and pop culture and all that. I tweet, FB, text, etc. I watch Glee and listen to Lady Gaga and Katy Perry. I know who Justin Bieber is. Granted, I'm just now catching up on the Twilight movies, but in my defense, the first movie came out the year I gave birth. I was kind of busy then and have been ever since. But I am trying to catch up on all of that because I don't want to be an OLDER MOMMY not with the times like the woman I'll call Mrs. S.
When I was 11, about sixth grade I guess, I had three close friends: K, J, and R. My mother was 35 at the time, as was K's mom. J's mom was only about 30, possibly a little younger, as she had her as a teenager. R's mom, Mrs. S, was 45. She was an OLDER MOMMY.
My mom and most of my friends' moms let us watch MTV* and knew all the latest bands and singers we liked--Hall and Oates, Huey Lewis and the News, Michael Jackson, Duran Duran, etc. Mrs. S never let R watch MTV or popular movies or anything like that. She didn't let R watch the premiere of Michael Jackson's Thriller video! Only the biggest cultural phenomenon of our time, the Thriller video, and she was not allowed to see it! Her mom just didn't understand any of that stuff.
*Note to younger readers: Back in 1983-84 when this story takes place, MTV actually played music videos 24-7. Seriously. IT. WAS. AWESOME. None of this Snooki-Jersey Shore crap.
So anyway, we always felt really sorry for R because her mom seemed so much older than our moms, and so out of touch with the times. And as I do the math, when my own daughter turns 11, I am going to be 46. One year older than Mrs. S was at the time--EEK!
I don't want to be like Mrs. S, an OLDER MOMMY! I mean, 40's the new 30, right? Look at the Sex and the City gals! I want to be tuned in to the latest trends and music...not in a way that will embarrass my kid or anything (I mean, Madonna's rocking and still awesome in her 50s, but I kind of think she should give up the leotards, you know? And cover up her arms--they kind of freak me out!), just in a way that she can relate to me and will think I'm a pretty cool Mommy when I'm picking her up from school with all the 20- and 30-something moms of her classmates LOL.
I kind of hope that tattoos and body piercings (other than ears) are out of fashion by the time my daughter is older, because if she wants those, I really will sound like an OLDER MOMMY. I can't help it--it was instilled in me by my proper Southern mother that nice girls just don't do those things LOL. The one time my mother seemed like an OLDER MOMMY to me was when I wanted to get one (ONE!) extra hole pierced in one of my ears (whichever one was the cool ear to do so, I can't remember now). She balked at this initially, but finally relented on the condition that I get one extra hole in BOTH ears, so as not to look lopsided or asymetrical, which kind of defeated the whole purpose. (Seriously. I am not making this up!)
So to my Future Tween and Teenage Daughter, I make this promise: I will try hard to be young at heart and up with the times so that you want to talk to me and share your world with me, but not so into it that I embarrass you. I will let you watch the cool cultural phenomenon-type events as they occur and take you to concerts by your favorite bands.
I only ask two things of you in return: (1) Please stay my little girl as long as you can--you have the rest of your life to be a grown-up, and (2) Please only pierce your ears and don't get any tattoos. Please. For me and for my mother, your Nana. OK? :)
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