To Party Or Not To Party

That is the million dollar question of the day.

This morning when I got to work I found an invitation to a students 3rd birthday. I walked over to my sons file and found that Animal had also been invited (along with the whole class). I immediately thought two things.

1) She doesn't realize he's my son.

2) I have a dilemma.

The party happens to be on the last Sunday in May at 1:30. Posing a few problems. The time is during Animal's nap time. We put him down at 1. If he sleeps he's down till 3-4 missing party. We could skip nap, he's kind of transitioning out of them. The problem is he needs it. In fact he's hard to tolerate without one that I'm afraid to have my highly excitable toddler out in a yard full of other hyped up 2.5-3.5 year olds.

It's a kid's birthday party, and to me that means sugar. You may or may not know how I feel about that, but the short if it is it is, we keep that shit down to a minimum. We don't serve juice in our home, I bring water to any event we attend and I water it down when I'm forced to give in. The hubby and I don't allow fruit snacks or marshmallows, and we keep other sweets to one on special occasions.

I don't say anything to anyone else about it. I don't make loud (or even quiet) comments about why or how. We just say, no thanks. Does Animal happily shrug it off? Sometimes, but he's a toddler and sometimes he cries when we say no to a second helping (or a first). It's hard because he's two, he wants, what he wants, when he wants it. It's also hard because we provide a lot of nutritious food and we don't limit it. We don't force him to eat either. If he takes two bites of lunch and says "I'm done", we say okay. He'll eat when he's hungry. It's an issue for some people. Maybe they think we're dicks. Maybe they think  we think they're bad parents. I don't ask you to defend what you feed your kid, and I would appreciate not having to defend what I don't feed mine. It's just easier not to deal with it.

The fact that we got two separate invitations let's me know these parents (and I know they're not the only ones) don't know Animal is my son. The teachers son. I'm not in the mood to broadcast that. Especially when he'll most likely be batty from no nap.

Last, the last Sunday of every month is family day. My siblings and I go to my parents house and have a meal together, and catch up. It's a rare occasion we are all in the same place at the same time. Or it was until family day started last year. I don't want to miss it.

What say you? Please comment or tweet I really need opinions. Am I just being selfish? Or do you agree there will be other parties?

I Do It Too

You know what really chaps me hide?

When a kid is crying and a well meaning adult says, "You don't need to cry about that". Or some variant sentence that means shut it down. It bothers me so much.

The worst part is I do it too.

Children cry for so many reasons. Sadness, confusion, feeling misunderstood, left out, scared, exhaustion, to release pent up energy. Why do we devalue their feelings? Why for our own comfort or sanity do we ask them to bottle up their too big emotions? Sure sometimes the little buggers are just trying to manipulate us into giving them their way. Of course we should not give in to the tears, but why not just let them cry? What's the real harm? Is there real harm?

I know it grates on your nerves, as it does mine, when your little person is crying cuz it's nap time/diaper changing time/ time to turn off the God forsaken Bubble Guppies, but can't we just send them to cry in their room/a chair/or some other area when we can't tune them out?

Could our need to stop their tears come from our desire to spare them pain?

OR...

Do you hate cry babies too?

I really hate whining. I don't want my kid to be a whiner and I don't want him to cry over every little thing. Sometimes life is disappointing. Sometimes people are assholes. Sometimes you gotta just get on with your life and not care about every little thing.

Plus there are better ways to deal with things than sitting and crying. Better ways to ask for what you want.

The thing is don't you need to cry, to learn that doesn't solve the problem? Or to see tears don't make people do what you want. They (our children) are just learning by trial and error.

Just like we understand we'll be changing many, many, many soiled diapers, then washing many wet (please only wet) underwear, pants and floors before finally graduating to, in the toilet every time.

Lest you think this analogy doesn't apply, I'm not saying that you'll listen to all this whining and crying till your child finally learns to control their emotions and then it's over. Home free. No. I'm not saying that, I'm saying just like with potty training, it gets better. There will still be surprises and hiccups, maybe even lifelong ones.

Just like with potty training, I need to have some patience and I would wager I'm not the only one.  

Candles Lit, Warm Wishes

Last night we, a few women, lit a candle. It was a candle for a woman who had begun her labor. 

We lit them in hopes it's light and our wishes for her and her babe would reach them and give them both strength.

Last night as it's light flickered I thought about my own beautiful delivery and baby boy. I wished for her the same love I had surrounding me that night. I went to bed trying to send, across all those miles all the strength I could muster for this new mama. 

I fell asleep smiling. Thanking God for all our blessings. Remembering the weight of my baby boy the first time he was in my arms. I slept so soundly and peacefully.

In the morning I checked my phone, no news.  I watched the candle and hoped all was well. 

My son is two now, life is so different than when he was an infant. 

I planned my day and went about my business. Still waiting.

Tomorrow I'll get to spend time with a good friend who is awaiting the birth of her little girl. When she goes into labor I will light another candle, and send her all my love and prayers. I'll spend lots of time thinking of my own baby. Funny how pregnant women and newborn babies always flood us with memories of ourselves and our own children (0r is that just me?). It's a beautiful reminder of how connected we truly are as women.

When I got the news that her son had been born this morning at 10:16 am, 8 lbs 10 oz, 21.5 inches. I was so happy for her. I celebrated by blowing out the candle, wishing them the best and then drinking a great bottle of wine and some outstanding brie. Just two of the things I missed most during my pregnancy (and the wine for much longer). 

Women thank you. Thank you for your beauty, strength and grace. Mommies, sisters, friends and fellow humans. Without you we would all suffer.

The Escape Artist

I had been waiting for this day since the day we moved Animal from his bassinet to a crib.

I had been waiting for the morning, or night, that we found him wandering around his room, instead of in his crib where we left him. 

All children do this eventually right? I've seen it in movies and TV shows, and you know what? It's way cuter when it's not your kid, but I'm not gonna lie, it was pretty fucking cute. 

Still adorableness aside, I don't want him wandering around his room when we can't watch him. 

You know those Martha Stewart moms, who's houses are immaculate? 

The children's rooms are perfectly decorated and no sharp corners are left exposed? The decor is color coordinated and they hand made all the wall art?  I'm not that mom.  I'm crafty, the hubby's an artist, but we are the biggest procrastinators. 

Before Animal, his bedroom was our catch all room. It was also our art/craft room. All the hubbies art supplies, a large table, futon, my scrap booking supplies and everything we ever bought that we didn't know where to put just yet, were housed in that room. Oh and it was filled to the brim. It looked like an Episode of Hoarders in there, minus the pizza boxes, bottles of wine and dead pets and/or rats. That room is what gave our home some semblance of tidiness. 

Literally the weekend before he was born we boxed up our Hoarders episode and moved it into it's new home, the garage. 

His room has furniture we want out and/or is not safe for a toddler. Like a full size futon. Boxes of clothes, to sell, to keep and to donate. Books, not just his board books on his shelf but art books, dictionary's, anatomy, scrap books, and his dad's sketchbooks. There's a metal easel, The outlets are covered, but Animal either has a death wish or really wants to be electrocuted, he's always trying to get to the plugs to do God knows what.

Anyway, one night we tuck Animal in for bed as usual. There is silence coming from his room. We feel safe that he's down for the night. I open a bottle of vodka and pull out the laptop. We here a little cry, wonder if something woke him up. 

Silence. 

I keep drinking. The hubby decides to jump in the shower. He heads down the hall. He comes back a little later and says, "this guy has torn his bed to shreds, I can hear him in there. I'm going in." I raise my glass and say, "Okay". 

The next thing I know the hubby shouts for me. I panic, we don't talk when we go into his room so I imagine the worst; Animal covered in shit that he dug out from his own diaper smeared all over the crib and himself. 

What I see when I get there is my son standing in the middle of the room, clothes, blankets, and wipes strewn all around the carpet. The wipes box in one hand and a wipey in the other. An impish grin on his face, and a gleam in his eyes. 

His dad picked him up and checked his diaper. In the meantime I picked up the wipes. Threw the clothes in a drawer and got is bed ready again. I walked out. The hubby tucked him back in and walked out.

After he shut the door the hubby said, "Well you knew this day would come". I said I did. He was nearly 20 months old, it was about time. I was proud of him in a way. He was a little person, more and more each day. Doing what his heart desired. Being a little rebel. I only wish I could know what he was thinking and watch it happen. 

The thing is, his room is not roam free territory, but it needs to be. We listened at the door.  He climbed out 4 more times that night. Each time we went in, didn't say a word and put him back in his crib. It took about 45 minutes after that first time before he stayed in bed and finally fell asleep. 

The following night we did the same, only we were misjudging and were going in before he actually climbed out. We decided to buy a video monitor on day three. 

Guess what? The little fucker went right to bed. We walked out, turned on our expensive little toy and that little punk didn't even move. Just closed his eyes and went right to sleep!

Es Que?

Es Que?

Guys. Animal is 22 months. Almost two years. I can't believe how fast the time has come and gone. He's huge. More than half my height. I still think of him as a baby. Not just because he can barely use a spoon with any real proficiency, and not just because he's my baby. 

It's mostly because his verbal skills are still not what Baby Centers emails lead me to believe is "normal". 

I'm not as freaked out as I used to be about all this. 

Animal is almost two, and two year olds, I know. I know them well. 

Animal 's vocabulary is not very big. At this point he has 10 words/phrases. He says: Hola, Hello, Bye, No, Oh no, Car, Ball, Es Que? (that's: that what? in English) On ta? (instead of Donde Esta? (where is it? in English).  Hi-ya (as in K is for karate kick; hi-ya)

That doesn't worry me the way is used to. I have had so many two year olds that only say No. Or Mom. Or wah wah (for water)  in Sept/Oct when they start the school year and by the end of the year you wouldn't have known they started with less words that their peers. 

I'm actually feeling pretty confident that he'll be fine and that by his second birthday he'll have about 2 dozen words. He understands a lot. In English and Spanish. If anything I'm worried that he'll lose the Spanish as English becomes more and more the predominate language. I find that I try to speak more and more Spanish as we get closer and closer to starting preschool. I'll be pushy like my parents were about him keeping up his other native tongue. 

So funny how I went from feeling like a crappy mom because my son hardly had a word, to being super scared he'll lose his bilingual status in the next few years. 

Growing up I didn't realize how important it was that I spoke, read and wrote in Spanish. Now I can't express how fearful I truly am that he wont share those skills with his grandparents, me or his extended family. 

Now as an adult I can appreciate what my parents gave up coming to the United States. 

I can't imagine leaving everything you know to go to another country, in hopes that your offspring will have more opportunity's than you could offer them in your own land. Can you fathom it?

I've never asked my parents if they realized they would create these hybrid children. Who speak another language, identify with a different culture, and are like strangers. Even more so than is the natural scheme of things as children grow into adolescents and into adulthood.  Literally not speaking the same language as your children?

That's too deep for me today. 

We'll talk about that another day. 

Raising a Scorpio

I have always thought of Astrology as good clean fun.

Something to giggle at and make snarky jokes about. Even though secretly, I enjoy being an Aries and think the descriptions fit me rather well. Still, I take it with a grain of salt, and reason that if I read the descriptions of other signs I would find some similarities in those as well, because they are all rather general. Right?

Recently I noticed that while I have friends from all walks of life, the one thing we all have in common is that we like to drink. This has given me a lot to think about. Is it that I don't want to be judged? They don't either, so hanging out with me is perfect Or is it that all the social gatherings at my place include me mixing drinks? During my musings I thought about the hubby's friends (the ones before me) what do they all have in common? Are they all party animals? Bohemians? Mostly, but actually what they have in common is they are highly educated and most are educators. When I mentioned this to him he laughed and said that was true, but the other thing they had in common is that they are "into" Astrology.

I laughed and said I didn't believe him. Then he said, "You wouldn't believe how often one of my friends says, of course Animal did that...he's a Scorpio". Really? I was intrigued. So I Googled "Raising a Scorpio boy". I was honestly surprised by the plethora of articles.

More surprising was how much of the characteristics of a Scorpio sound like my son. Here are the things that all the articles said, that describe my son (and many other strong willed toddlers). He's intense (has an intense gaze). Charming. Secretive. Physically strong. Strong willed. High energy. Sensitive. Needs lots of discipline. Can be vindictive and manipulating. Or forgiving and generous. Smart. Determined. Testy.

I'm not going into great detail because that would be giving to much credit or thought to something that just doesn't merit it.

Reading through them was a little surreal in that they sound so much like him. He has a need to destroy read one, saying my son would benefit from having magazines to shred and blocks, later legos to build and destroy. When I want to occupy Animal (since infancy, remember he's always been alarming strong) I will give him paper to destroy. Old magazines, ads, receipts. Few things delight him more than destroying a piece of paper. Ever since he had control of his arms and could begin to crawl, I would build things and he would knock them down. We bought him Mega Blocks for Christmas and his greatest satisfaction is from taking the blocks apart.

That is just one silly example.

The parts about how important loving but firm and consistent discipline are for him, are the ones that really got to me. I'm that kind of adult, but when it comes to Animal I feel as though I'm failing him. Not because I don't discipline, but because he doesn't seem to take me seriously. I don't know how to get through to him. The hubby says it's that I'm disciplining him with a weak tone, that I'm not putting my heart into it. Maybe that's true. I'm so conflicted with being gone for so much of his day that it's making me too patient, and ineffective. When the hubby disciplines him, Animal is visibly at attention and you can see sadness flash over his face at his fathers strong tone and intense gaze (Animal often lashes out in anger or excitedness, and his father will say "It's okay to feel angry/excited/hurt, but hitting/biting/yelling/throwing is not how we deal with things. Use your words. Never hit/bite/scream for attention/throw). He listens to his father. He cleans up for him. He calms down for him. He stops his aggressive behavior for him. I have to step up to the plate and do my part to help raise a good kid.

Now, am I reading into it? Maybe. I read through some other signs, he doesn't sound as similar to any other signs. Will I take it to heart? Or with a grain of salt? With a grain of salt, I think. But is my son a Scorpio? As much as mommy is an Aries. We're destined to be friends, it's written in the stars, and I'm not going to lie, I like that.

Microsoft Office Site

It's Over

Of course I always knew the time would come when we would be here. When it would be over, and I couldn't wait. Except now that it is. It's so bittersweet.

Animal stopped nursing completely this week. He's been self weaning for a couple of months now. Only nursing before bed. We have this routine, we turn on his little turtle that puts stars on the ceiling, then we turn on his gentle giraffe (womb sounds) finally I pull out our boppy and we sit in our special chair across from his crib. When he's done nursing I lay him down and tuck him in before walking out.

A few days before Mother's day after turning on his stars and sounds, I pulled out the boppy and he waved goodbye to me very sweetly. It surprised me, but I went with it. Half expecting him to reach out to me crying when he realized I was going to just lay him down and walk out. He smiled at me angelically as I put him down and tucked him in. I said, "Good night, I love you". He babbled softly and pulled his blanket up to his chin. Then I walked out, and he went to sleep. I teared up. It was over. I didn't have a baby anymore.

Of course he's been a toddler for the better part of a year. But at least once a day, he was still my baby. And of course he always will be, except he isn't.

I always knew I was going to breastfeed, but I had never expected to nurse past his first birthday. Once we read all the material on breastfeeding, the hubby and I just agreed that I would nurse him until he was done. Or he turned two. I didn't want to nurse a preschooler. Then I met all these women that are crunchy granola moms not crunchy granola lite, like me that I kinda admire. I'm such a hippie at heart. It just seemed less and less strange, and more and more natural that we would self wean.

Then he shocked me. He's been self weaning for months, and it's just done. He just grew up. It seemed so natural and pretty much seamless how it just ended.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to have my body back. It's great to have the extra time and that the hubby can put the baby to bed without me any night now. I'm especially excited to NOT have to look at the clock to decide if I can have a glass of wine.

It's bittersweet.

Yadda, it kind of sucks to be done with the baby days.

This is post is brought to
you by the letter 'Y'

Listen Yuckbuddies, yadda is like bleep for the bad word. C'mon it's the letter Y, there is little to choose from as far as "bad" words go.

Well Rested Mama

This post is brought to you
by the letter 'R'

Rested. 

Some mornings I am, but WELL rested...

I think since having Animal, I have been well rested a handful of times. Sometimes (more often than I would like to admit) it's my fault. 

He's been sleeping through the night for almost eleven months, and I stopped getting up to pump nine months ago. The thing is, if I want to have time to write. Time to catch up on all the trash and sitcoms I love to watch. Time to hang out with the hubby, just us. Time to get chores done, uninterrupted. I have to stay up past my bedtime. Before I became a mommy I would go to bed about 9, sometimes 8:30. Now I go to bed between 10-11. 

If I want to have time to run. Time to eat breakfast. Time to have a tasty, HOT cup of coffee. Time to shower, time to pee without interruptions. Time to make and pack lunches. I have to get up by 6, 5 on my running days.

You know what, I don't even always care. Sure it means I have to drink a cup of coffee if I don't want to stumble through my day like a *retard, but being constantly sleep deprived (at this point, with newborn life still fresh in my mind) seems well worth it.

I can't afford to go to Starbucks everyday, but I also can't handle instant. The price is right, but the taste is less than ideal. I can do the Nescafe if I have some flavorful creamers. The problem with that is I just added like 200 calories, and 5 grams of fat. That is just not cool. NOT COOL.

So, I'm gonna share my secret to faking a well rested morning. 

First, work out if possible. No joke, the least awesome part of my day is waking up to a fucking alarm clock. Often though, the best part of my day is my run, and the burst of energy it provides.

Second, come home and warm up 1 cup of fat free milk and 6 oz of water.  While that's warming up, in a stainless steel tumbler add 1 package of Via, currently I'm rocking the blonde because it seems to pack less of a caffeine punch and so I can still get a good nights sleep. Add 1 pack of splenda or a tablespoon brown sugar. Lastly, poor hot milk/water into your travel mug. Seal and enjoy. The milk is a very important component to this beverage. It not only adds a richness that makes you feel like you're treating yourself, but for a mere 90 calories your adding 9 grams of protein, calcium and vitamin D. 

The tumbler is key for us mommies for two reasons. First it enables you to finish your cup hot without the need to zap in microwave 10 times, until finally, defeated you throw half the cup down the sink so that you can get to those pesky dishes that have been waiting all morning to be washed. Second, you don't have to worry about a mischievous child, spilling, breaking, tasting, or worse burning themselves on a hot cup of Joe left unattended to handle some other pressing matter.

Lastly, use some Erase Paste by BeneFit.

Follow these tips and you will look well rested and perky. You're welcome.

*This post is part of ABC's of Swearing Challenge and I'm sorry if I offended anyone with the use of the word retard, but rimjob was the only other bad word I could think of, and I just couldn't think of a way to include rimjob into this post. Also, yesterday I used queerdo, which I was equally conflicted about. This challenge has truly challenged me, but has been a lot of fun and I hope you are enjoying as much as I am.

How Mommies Do It

Today's post is brought to you
by the letter 'E'

So how do mommies do it?

Get your minds out of the gutter, this is not about how we moms get down in the boudoir, it's about how we express ourselves.

Now I'm not going to lie, I occasionally curse in front of my son. He's 1 and a half and doesn't yet really talk, so I don't really feel too guilty. However, my years as a preschool teacher have been getting me prepared, I don't ever curse at work. So how do we mom's try to shield our children from our potty mouths?

Well there's a fair amount of spelling "Eff U", comes to mind. As does this old favorite "H-E-double hockey sticks". "He is such an A-S-S-H-O-L-E". You get my drift.

Also we change words for other words that are never as satisfying or even make sense. Fudge instead of Fuck. Shut the front door, instead of shut the fuck up. Silly instead of stupid or dumb, or  crazy (when did crazy become a bad word BTW). Shoot instead of Shit. Suddenly I'm drawing a blank, but you get it. (Feel free to add your own favorite/most used substitutes in the comments)

We're creative. We do what we have to do, and occasionally we fail.

Eff me it's hard!

"Normal" Phase

This weeks topic is about non-traditional parenting choices, what do you do that's "unusual"? Jenn asked.

Animal is a year and a half old, at this stage I don't really think I do anything that is "unusual".

When he was a baby there were a few things. Like his crib was in our room until 10 months, I exclusively breastfed till six months, I made my son's baby food (using only organic produce for a long time). I gave him peanut butter on his first birthday and eggs just before he turned 1. Except for tasting some fresh fruit juice from Sweet Tomato, he only drinks milk (mine and organic cow milk) and water. We're self weaning (is that unusual?), but we're almost done. My bodies still making milk, but he nurses a total of 5 to 20 minutes a day. We're almost done there. I tried not to let him watch TV, but we all know I failed there.

I would say that we are currently very traditional. So he can't drink soda or juice. That's totally normal. He watches a little TV, normal again. He eats pretty healthy and we make sure he gets a chance to be active and the opportunity to rest (even if that means our life revolves around his nap schedule) that's what parents do. He's not allowed to go to strip clubs. He can't hang out on the corner getting smashed and smoking pot. And absolutely no bitches over after bedtime.

Even though his daddy and I don't get flu shots and tend to believe in natural remedies before a prescription, our son's vaccinations are up to date and complete and will remain so. We will give him over the counter drugs when needed and be at every well baby visit. Normal again, right?

I foresee that it will be a few years before our unusual methods emerge.

I really wanted to home school, but I haven't finished school, and we can't afford for me to stay home.

So, when Animal starts school, the hubby and I plan to enhance his education with some field trips, home lessons, debates and our own reading material. I don't know that teachers will appreciate our public education plus plan. And I don't care.

I don't want to lie to my son, and while there are some subjects where I will have little to add (think math), there are other subjects like social studies, art, physical education, English (not grammar or spelling obviously) and science (think life/biology) where I think the hubby and I will have a lot to contribute.

When he starts learning about the missions, we're gonna take him to the same mission his school will take him to, but we'll be sure to include the mass "Indian" graveyard, and to discuss the Catholic church's roll in the genocide of the native people.

When he studies the Mexican/American war and the treaty of Guadalupe, we'll talk about it from both perspectives.

We'll provide yoga, and other physical activity at home. When he's old enough I'm going to take him on family fun runs and with me in the mornings so we can pound the pavement together.

We'll go to art museums, poetry readings, protest, concerts, the ballet, and provide creative outlets.

We want Animal to be curious, to question everything, to think. Both the hubby and I think those are invaluable skills. When he wants something we don't agree on, we'll ask him to convince us. With an essay.

It's hard to say all we'll do, because those times aren't here yet.

We don't know what curve balls life will throw us. What things we'll add, and what will be omitted.

Whatever our methods, they'll be the norm in our home. I'm looking forward to it.


Click the TT button to read more or join in.
 Today's letter is B.

TT Expert Advice

This week it's my job to give you advice on something that I am an expert at.

I asked the hubby what he thought I could give advice about. What am I really good at? His suggestion?

"You're really good at being passive aggressive", he said.

Well.

As good as I can be at that, it doesn't seem like the kind of advise any of you are looking for.

Then he said, "You're really good at being prepared".

"How so?", I asked because I was honestly surprised by his answer and figured he was being sarcastic.

So he totally surprised me with some sweet words on how I handle situations as they are arising as examples. For instance, I had been petrified of ever having a baby, since fifth grade when I watched a birth video in sex ed. When I discovered that I was growing a human, I was so happy and so scared. So I started doing what I do best.

Researching!

When faced with an important decision, I find that the only way to move forward is to learn as much as possible. Think about how I would feel and then go with my gut. I try to anticipate any surprises, so that I can be prepared to change my plans if I need to. I don't want to be completely caught off guard. So here's how to come up with a birth plan, like a boss.

First if your terrified like me, find out what a doula is, what she does and hire one.

Next, or first if you are not terrified. Start researching. Research everything.

Start with who you want to deliver your baby.

Watch documentaries. Read books. Google. Talk to moms. Visit baby center.

Download some birth plans and then research everything on those plans, especially all the things that the mom to be would like to avoid.

Listen to every one's advice but make your own choices based on what's best for you and your family. Talk to your partner. You should agree on as much as possible.

Once you have planned what you ideally hope for, start talking about what you will do if something unexpected happens. Like if you don't want to be induced, but your 10 days over due. At what point do say uncle? What if you plan to get straight to the hospital and get an epidural, but you get to the hospital and your Dr says it's too late, no drugs for you, how will you cope?

Go over your plan with your Dr, they may have a compelling argument to change your mind about some idea you have. Or you may have to give a compelling argument about it being your body, your baby and your choices. Either way, you want your Dr.s green light.

A birth plan is not a concrete plan set in stone, it is a just a guide for as many scenarios as possible. So that you can have some reassurance knowing that if something less than ideal happens, everyone there knows how you would like the situation handled, when you were cool headed and not in the throes of pain or a heightened emotional state.

When my water broke, I was ready for whatever adventure I was about to have. I had spent a better part of my life being terrified of child birth, but I was totally calm the last few weeks leading up to my sons birth. Because I felt prepared for any surprise.


This post is part of a multi blogger collaboration. To read more expert advice or share your own, just click the TT button.

Dropping The Ball

Since I started writing again, I've made time for it every weekend.
Because:

I love it.

It's me time.

It helps me clear my head of the non stop chatter that is my mind.

It helps me feel connected, to other moms, to other writers, to the world (even if only a handful of people read).

This weekend was a marathon of getting shit done.

I bounced around from one commitment to the
next, only stopping to play and enjoy family time. While it was happening I was rather happy that I was getting plenty of time with Animal and the Hubby (I'm still glad about that) but I was a bummed to see that I didn't notice till my eyes were shutting from exhaustion that I hadn't even noticed that I hadn't carved out ANY time to write.

I'm gonna work harder to find it.

TT Parenting Style

Parenting Styles. That's the topic this week. I've mentioned before that I'm not comfortable with labels. I certainly wasn't embracing the label that seemed to me getting thrown at me once I became a mom.

I'm a, do what works, kind of mom.

I don't think there's a "right" way or a "wrong" way to raise a child (as long as you don't neglect their needs and love them). As a seasoned child care provider I have had a chance to see many styles in action. I have my favorites and my not so favorites.

My least favorite are the parents who let their children do what ever they want. Let them treat others however they want. I don't like the kind of people that produces, unruly, ill mannered, little terrors. I have never understood these parents. No one (including them it seems) wants to be around their little darlings, so why not do themselves, and their poor child, a favor and draw some clear boundaries for them? I just couldn't fathom it.

I am not that kind of parent, but I can understand those parents a little bit now. For one, they (mostly) don't have my vast experience or knowledge of how children grow and develop. Secondly, we are all different people, they may not of the patience to deal with the amount of testing a child can procure (or for the sometimes insane amount of tantrum that can come forth from such a small human) or know the rewards that come from letting their child have the meltdown and sticking to their guns. Lastly, parents are tiered, often second guessing themselves consistently (or not nearly enough), and if you work full time like the hubby and I do, it sucks to have to spend the little time you get with your small love, disciplining them.

I get it. I do, but that isn't me.

I have been described as a loving, firm but fair teacher. I think that sums me up pretty well. I love my kids, and I love my son, but I am firm and (mostly) fair (I am human after all).

All of the children in my care know I love them. I think it comes across not only through the love and affection I bestow upon them of course, but I firmly believe that it comes across in the limits I set and that they know what the answer is (once they have asked once) always.

For children, limits, rules and boundaries make them feel safe and secure. Nothing makes a child happier than knowing they are loved and that they are safe and secure. Nothing. (Unless they're a toddler, then playing with a remote control or cell phone could top the list. Wait, no because they still have to feel loved, safe and secure to really enjoy that remote or phone)

I read a question on twitter this week, Are you the mom you thought you would be?

I am honestly not. I am in the sense of being loving and setting limits, but my son has a mind of his own and test me every day. EVERY. DAY.

I hoped I would be a crunchy granola lite kind of mom, but I just didn't think I had it in me. A natural birth, breastfeeding, no kid tv till two, making baby food, cooking meals staying away from junk food, being active with my son, sort of mom. That was gonna be way too hard for me.

Those were some lofty ideals, thought I.

I could never do it.

 I kinda admire the moms that could, and I don't have anything against the moms that don't. Those things just fit better with the kind of person I am. No matter who you are, this is the key, YOU have to be true to the person YOU are. Kids can smell a phony a mile away. They don't respect phonies (and can you blame them).

One of the coolest things about being a mom for me, was discovering that I could do all those things. I could be that mom. I CAN be the loving, limit setter I am, AND the crunchy granola lite mom I wanted to be. I don't even mind that it's not easy, that I'm tiered. I'm the mom I didn't think I could be.

Other people would say to me, "You're gonna be a great mom". I didn't believe them. I didn't think I would be, but I am.



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For Women Only Edition

This post was updated today. So that I could use in the ABC's of Swearing, because when I Googled curse words that begin with the letter V, all I found over and over, was Vagina and Va JayJay.

Vagina? Really? Can I just say that offends me as a woman that Vagina would be considered even on one list a bad word. Va JayJay? maybe, if only because it isn't proper.

Without further ado,

Is my vagina broken?

The first thing I do after I start menstruating each month is find my hubby (if it's the weekend) or wait for his call so that I can say, "Guess who's not pregnant? Me!". Then shortly after using my first tampon, I ask this question: Is my vagina broken?

 I'm not trying to be funny. I really, honestly ask myself this question every month.

Before baby, I had a really light period. 3 days and done. Now after baby, it's still basically 3 days, and only the first day is heavy (just like before) but now, I leak. I don't mean I pee when I sneeze or laugh, like at 9 months pregnant. I mean that I have to wear a panty liner for the entirety of my cycle, and the reason I do is because no matter how light or how recently I changed my tampon it leaks.

WTF? Is this normal? Am I going to go through the rest of my life going through a ton of panty liners and tampons? I'm considering just using pads. Am I crazy? At first I thought maybe I'd forgotten how to use a tampon. I even re read the instructions. I'm doing it right.

So what's the problem? I haven't googled for fear of what kind of sights it might refer me to, but I have a consultation for tubal ligation with my Ob/Gyn coming up and I plan to talk to her about it then.

In the meantime. Every time I get my period and leak I want to tweet, Is my vagina broken? I restrain myself, but as this post was written specifically for the Honest Mom hop, I decided to share.

Anybody have any ideas? The hubby says I'm just old now. Is that it?

UPDATE: My Va JayJay is just fine. The consultation was rescheduled (by the doctor, not me), but I started trying different brands, and I found one! I found one that works. I'm so happy. Thank you to all the women who left comments when I first posted this.

This post was brought to you
by the letter 'V'