I probably lost some of you with the last post, but stay with me. Before I write one more word, or tell one more story, I want you to know that this is a Mommy Blog. This is not a Stay-at-Home Mommy Blog, or a Working Mommy Blog. This is simply a Mommy Blog. I am not here to preach, to judge, or to condem. On the contrary, I am here to unite, to welcome, and to befriend. I have been on both sides of that equation, and from where I stand, Mother’s Guilt, Mother’s Doubt, and Mother’s Worry are Universal-whether you carry a briefcase or a diaper bag. Both are Mom Bags, and both bags are welcome at Playgroups of any kind. 
You are currently browsing the archives for August 2009.
Working Moms, don’t walk out on me just yet…
Playgroup
I’m a big fan of Playgroups. When I first embarked on my stay-at-home-mommy journey, I combed the internet looking for a Mom group. Noone really told me the necessity that such a group would hold for me, but as a now 6ish year veteran of not one, but two playgroups, I will tell you-they are a must for the stay homers. It’s very easy to get sucked into your own little world with your babies, to detach from the realities of things like World News, Make-Up, and Adult Conversation. Once, when my middle child was about 3 months old, I was riding in the car with my husband not knowing what to do with myself-no screaming child, no baby music to find, no bottle to fill. At that point he stopped down, looked at me, and told me to get out more-that WE needed to get out more WITHOUT the kids. The way he said it startled me, but at the same time I knew he was right. I was going a little nutso…enter Playgroup.
I found said Mom group, called the Mom in charge, and on a Tuesday knocked on a stranger’s door. They welcomed me with open arms; they introduced my oldest to the other kids; they fed us both lunch; they told stories of their own children and family lives. They made me feel normal. From that moment on, there was no stopping me from missing Tuesday Playgroup. If we were well, we were there-because yes, the kids had the opportunity to play, but also I formed a connection with these moms. They saw me at my most vulnerable-a new mom, and they still liked me, reassured me, and laughed with me. They gave me advice without sounding condescending. They gave me hugs when I knew I was sending my children into future therapy. They assured me that all the craziness in my life was normal, and that I would gain some control over my surroundings eventually. They said all this because they were in the same place I was-needing the same reassurances thrown their direction. We shared our Tuesday mornings, we shared our children, and we shared our lives. They were a lifeline for me, and I dearly missed them upon our Big Move to the Little D. I mourned that support system. I felt naked with only my crazy thoughts and even crazier children to surround me.
But, slowly, I began to form friendships here, and put out a few feelers to these Moms to see if they would like to meet and play. To my surprise, they jumped on the chance-maybe needing those connections and bonds as much as I did. Last year, we met at McDonald’s and the park. We went on a few fieldtrips over the summer, and this year our little group has really molded into something quite special. We celebrate our blessings, hurt for our hardships, and look forward to that weekly retreat into friendship. A friendship that feels safe, accepting, and fun.
It’s because of the joy Playgroup brought to me, that I want to pass this treasure onto you. I’ve put a link on the sidebar of the menu for a Yahoo! Group site associated with the moms in the Decatur Area. I’ve mapped out a calendar for the next few months, just meeting at a few parks around Decatur. I invite you to go to those parks, and look around for other Moms pushing their kids in swings, or putting their kids in time-out. Either way, you may find a kindred spirit, and just a tad of your own sanity.
it’s all mixed up
My six-year-old has a new aversion to food that’s “all mixed up,” meaning casseroles (including King Ranch Chicken, a Scroggins Family Favorite), soups (minus Cars Chicken Noodle), and salads (even the fun pink fruit salad that all the Grandmas know how to make).
At first, I was ok with my new picky eater. I remember not wanting my food to touch, so I could stretch that thought, and relate it to this “mixed-up food” ideaology. But, it’s getting a little ridiculous. This morning, we mixed eggs and sausage for breakfast tacos. That was a no-go. This evening, I mixed peas and corn. No bueno.
More than his actual dislike of mixed-up foods, is his over-the-top reaction to seeing the foods mixed-up. To put it mildly, total meltdown. Complete with yelling, and a chair slump-or for a more dramatic effect-a slump to the floor. Both equally rude in my book. So, I’ve explained that it’s OK to dislike certain foods; it’s ok to not eat those foods; it’s even ok to put those foods on a “never eat again list” if absolutely needed. What is NOT OK, is that reaction. At home, sure, tell me when you don’t like something. I promise I might not make it again. But, as a guest in someone’s house, eat it. Even if it’s dirt, eat it, and say it was yummy. That’s just good manners.
Every time I think I’ve made headway with this lesson, we backslide a little. Hopefully, it will sink in before he meets his future in-laws as they serve Spaghetti Chicken with a side of Cool Whip Fruit Salad.
Mute Button
I saw a baby with this pacifier earlier this week and thought it was pretty hilarious. My kids were never a fan of the pacifier, opting for thumbs instead. I was always a little jealous of the magic quiet a pacifier would allow, and then the magic of simply throwing them away. It’s a little harder to do that with thumbs-not that I didn’t try.
Rose, Thorn, Bud
A couple of summers ago, I enrolled in a book study under the guidance of Beverly Ross. We read The Power of a Positive Mom, by Karol Ladd. It was a great study focusing on the simplicity of a positive attitude. But the study wasn’t the best part; the best part was meeting with a roomful of other moms and admitting that sometimes we all dropped the ball. But, despite that, we all wanted to be better moms. Everyday we wanted to be better than the day before.
One tidbit I took away from that study came directly from Beverly, and not the book. During a discussion on family traditions, she explained a ritual her family cherished called “Rose, Thorn, Bud.” At the end of the day, each family member shared one Rose (the happiest part of the day), one Thorn (the yuckiest part of the day), and one Bud (something to look forward to the next day). She said that little tradition exponentially increased communication with her kids, and even in the face of a bad day, they were all forced to think of something good.
It seemed like a good idea to me, so we tried it. Even with my little kids (at the time 1, 4 and 6), they got it. Now, it’s our nightly ritual during dinner. Sometimes we don’t have any Thorns, and that’s ok with me. But, we always have a Rose-even on those terrible, no good, very bad days.
They can surprise me with their little moments of happy or sad, too. Tonight, my youngest’s Rose was going to his “Bigger, Stronger School.” My heart did a little happy dance, blooming all over the place, because for me, today, I couldn’t have had a better Rose either.
Bigger, Stronger School
Today, I dropped my three-year-old at his new “bigger, stronger, school” for the first time since we stopped by last week to meet his teacher. I was a little nervous because every time we mentioned the new school, he told me he didn’t need to go; he explained that he could just stay home with mommy. Awesome. But, we kept preparing him, telling him how much fun he would have, and how big he would be. But, he wasn’t buying it.
So, we problem solved, and we bribed him. Bribery, I believe, should only be used in emergency situations. This was one such emergency.
Last night, my husband took my son on a little shopping trip in Decatur. While in the shoe section of Bealls, my son stumbled upon some awesome tennis shoes that LIGHT UP. He was so pumped about the novelty of those shoes, that of course my husband caved. He was smart about it though, I have to give him credit for that. He struck up a deal: shoes for school. My son agreed, and the purchase was made.
He woke up at 2 this morning, and came into my room in underwear and those shoes. Remember, I told you he was broken.
Anyway, this morning, he jumped out of bed into those shoes (again), pulled on his new backpack (courtesy of my sister), and grabbed his lunchbox. He was chattering on and on about how big he was, and how he was going to his NEW SCHOOL.
But, that was before we actually got to the school. When we walked down the hall to his classroom, he began telling me that he didn’t really have to STAY at his school, he just needed to say hi to his teacher. I kept urging him along, again talking about the awesomeness of the upcoming day. When we got to his classroom to join the class, he attached himself to my ankle, and began to whimper. Not totally crying, but not the happy sound I needed. The teacher helped me pry him loose, and get him into the line of kids headed for the playground. He kept looking back at me, unsure of what to do next. I lingered back at the classroom door, also a little unsure. I willed him to look at his shoes and to start having a fantastic day. Yes, I believe in the power of shoes :) When he was finally out of sight, I slipped out to my car, but with a heavy heart.
I know he needs to go to preschool. I know he needs to be big this year. I know he will have a blast once he gets into the routine. I know that in my head; my heart just isn’t so sure. And, I don’t know that Bealls has enough shoes to get us both through the year.
THE FIRST DAY!
So, how’d it go? Did anyone go to a boo hoo breakfast? Did anyone boo hoo in their car after drop off?
I did.
And it totally caught me by surprise. I walked the kids in to their new classrooms, gave hugs and reassurances, and then walked out of school triumphant in all our morning accomplishments.
And then it hit me. Tears. Not so much the snot and hiccuping, but definitely the tears. What was that about? It wasn’t kindergarten; it wasn’t college. It was just your everyday elementary grades. Ugh. Sometimes my sappiness gets on my own nerves! I was sappy before becoming a Mom, but this is getting a little out of hand.
Independent Steps
As most of us gear up for the First Day of School, I’ve found my mind wandering to those Empty-Nesters out there, wondering what you are going through. As a mother of young children, it’s hard to imagine a day when they will simply stay home by themselves, let alone stay in another city, state, or country by themselves. Sometimes I find myself staring at my kids trying to see what kind of adult they might become. But it’s difficult, because usually they wiggle a tooth, pick their nose, or burst into tears for no reason. Hopefully, those aren’t traits that will carry over into their adulthood. But still, I know my time with them is finite. One day, I will be packing them to leave my nest, and I don’t know if I’ll be doing a happy dance or doing a teary dance. Knowing me, it will be the latter…knowing most of the moms I do, it’s been the latter.
How do you even begin to prepare? What kind of support do you give? Do you put on a brave face? Or do you let your guard down and show your child how empty your house will feel?
Maybe you just returned home from the roadtrip to college. Maybe you made that trip earlier this summer, or maybe you still have that drive in front of you. Whatever the case, you will return home without your child, and you won’t see them walking in the back door on Sunday night after an extended sleepover. When they return, they will be different, more independent, and more “grown-up.” They might even be counting the minutes until they can leave your nest again, and return to their new “home.” But, this is what we are striving toward, right? We hope that all these years of time-outs, detentions, groundings, hugs, kisses, and heart-to-hearts have prepared them for the “real-world.” We hope that our success as parents can be measured in their capabilities and happiness as adults. We hope they are ready to live their own adventures, and to follow their own dreams. We hope. And we pray.
But, I can imagine, as you set the dinner table with one less plate, your heart might fail you a little. I can imagine you might be wishing for those dirty diaper, loose tooth, or even moody teenager days. It’s hard to imagine, but I can do it. But, I can also remember being the one dropped off, and feeling a little unsure of what to do next. It’s easier for me to imagine your baby sitting in a dorm room, apartment, or other new home also remembering those everyday days, knowing your love made this moment possible. So, as a little virtual hug to you empty nesters, know that no matter how grown-up or independent your baby gets, there’s no place like home. But keep hoping. And praying. It can’t hurt.
The Kid Collar
As a follow-up to Thursday’s post, I wanted to pass along this real-life story.
Brian recently went on vacation with his 2 1/2 year old daughter. It was their first “real” vacation as a family, complete with a roadtrip and a touristy stop or two. In planning for the event, he and his wife realized their daughter was in an odd stage-the stage between strapping her in the stroller full-time, and letting her walk like a real-life grown up. What to do? Their solution surprised them, and a few bystanders…
We bought a kid collar.
I know that’s not what it is really called – it was actually a plush poodle that clipped around her chest with a cloth rope (the ‘tail’ as I called it) attached to the back. I always said I wouldn’t put my kid in a collar, but there we were in Red River, New Mexico, walking down the street to get ice cream with Audree wearing her pink poodle and daddy carrying the tail. I was just starting to think that, ‘Hey, this isn’t as bad as I thought,’ when my wife told me that someone waiting in line for ice cream made a snarky comment about “I’d never put my child in a collar.”
Even though maybe only a half-hour before, I felt the same way, the comment really offended me and I had to resist the urge to go back inside the store and ask this lady why she thought it was necessary to make unsolicited advice on our parenting skills.
What are your thoughts on the kid collar or kid leash? Any more pearls of wisdom out there?
Baby Steps
My sister’s best friend had a baby on Monday. One of my best friends had a baby in July. I hear someone in Oklahoma City is having a baby any second now. Lots of little fingers and toes making an appearance this summer, and lots of moms to talk about when our angels were just wee folk. Just last night at dinner, a group of my friends reflected on that baby time, and shared their pearls of wisdom. Today, as my sister was pumping me for more wisdom, I realized I haven’t really talked about the babies. So, here are some pearls. Some of these are tried and true Scrogginsisms, and others are observations, but either way, you might come out a pearl or two more prepared for that Year of Baby.
-Take a picture every month of your baby’s first year in the same chair, with the same stuffed animal. You’ll be amazed how fast they grow, and then you’ll be teary at how fast the time went.
-Bottle warmers and wipe warmers are a racket. I was a bottle mom, and kept water in the bottles at room temperature, ready for the formula as needed. Some nursing moms I knew let their milk thaw at room temperature, or used hot water from the tap. Either one worked like a charm. Wipe warmers burn and dry out wipes. If you want, hold the wipe in your hand as you get situated for the diaper change. It’s not perfect, but it is just a bottom.
-Baby food out of jars is just fine at room temperature. I know tepid green beans sound gross, but if you don’t know the difference, then baby-food-on-the-go won’t seem gross either.
-Cheerios rock. With my second two kids, I was literally counting down the days until I could put them in the highchair with a handful of Cheerios. I had at least an hour of hands-off baby time, which was long enough to fix dinner AND have a Diet Coke.
-Baby Music works. I don’t know why, but when you’re in the car with a screaming baby or toddler, pop in The Wheels on the Bus or Going on a Bear Hunt and watch the magic happen.
-Baby backpacks are a must-have for Daddies. Crawling babies were a beat down for me; their dirty knees and sticky hands drove me NUTS. Enter Daddy Backpack. Voila! Put the baby on the Daddy and send them outside to wash the car, clean the garage, etc. Baby stays happy for DAYS, and you have five minutes of alone time for a Diet Coke Break.
-Plastic links were sent from the heavens. You know this if you’ve ever played the “let me drop this and you pick it up” game. Enough said.
-No spill bubble containers. Your baby or toddler will think you are AWESOME when you hold the wand up to the air conditioner and watch the bubbles fly through the car. Use sparingly to increase the magic factor.
-Stroller training. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but little people take little steps. If you ever want to walk with any efficiency across an airport or zoo, strollers are the way to go. I was personally addicted to the stroller. When my second child was born, we did not go ANYWHERE unless they were BOTH TIED DOWN. My oldest was barely 2, the youngest was 0. You get it. Plus, there was a cup holder for my Diet Coke. And again, cups of Cheerios saved the day in the entertainment factor. It’s amazing how much practice it takes to pinch your pointer and thumb together. The things we take for granted.
-Buy a pack-n-play. It’s for more than just packing and playing.
-Drink water, or you may become addicted to Diet coke. Or so I’ve heard.
I feel like I’m forgetting most of the wisdom in my brain, a side effect of Motherhood. So, what pearls of wisdom do you have for that first year?
