It's been almost a year since my last post, which is kind of embarrassing, but then again, it does illustrate how demands on your mommying time changes as your kids get older, and the days get shorter. With baby #2 on the way its got me thinking about why I started this blog in the first place. Mostly...thoughts like, "I am I the only one thinking this crazy thought or it this normal" and "Holy cow, did my kid just do that." It's amazing how overwhelming and life altering having your first child is in the whole scheme of life impacting events. Like a 8.5 on the Ricter Scale.
So often being a mom leaves you feeling somewhere between superwoman and a complete failure. Preparing for the birth of our son in the next 8 weeks has got me reminiscing about how different it feels this time around. Now don't get me wrong - I'm still freaking out about the fact that we are going to be dealing with serious sleep deprivation and a 3 year old in addition to a new born, but some how I find comfort in knowing that I've survived it once and will likely survive it again. My hope is to chronicle again what those first weeks, months, and year bring given how dramatically different our family is since the birth of our first child. Here's counting down...
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Naked Butt
That's what my daugther says every evening as I undress her for her bath. This is usually followed by me chasing her little naked self down the hall at 60 miles an hour. Every mom know what I mean - they may be small, but they've got lightening in their toes! So you may be wondering where she learned a phrase like "naked butt". Me too?! That's not usually typical banter for a 22 month old...she's advanced. Okay, she learned it from me. I now know the error of my ways and am trying to transition her over to the preferred phase "naked bottom". I'm not sure it's going to take. Oh well, so she won't have any manners. You can get through life without manners, right? We'll know better for the next child.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
An Advent Reality Check
Check out the video about the true meaning of advent at www.adventconspiracy.org
An Inspirational Story
(I don't know if this is truth or fiction, but either way it is a good daily reflection.)
We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi."
He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment. I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists.
"Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster," the man said to Erik.
My husband and I exchanged looks, 'What do we do?' Erik continued to laugh and answer, 'Hi.' Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room.
"Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo."
Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments. We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. 'Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,' I prayed.
As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's 'pick-me-up' position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man. Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine.
He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of this baby."
Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that contained a stone.
He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, "God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift."
I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, 'My God, my God, forgive me.' I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was God asking, 'Are you willing to share your son for a moment?' when He shared His for all eternity. The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, "To enter ... , we must become as little children."
Sometimes, it takes a child to remind us of what is really important. We must always remember who we are, where we came from and, most importantly, how we feel about others. The clothes on your back or the car that you drive or the house that you live in does not define you at all; it is how you treat your fellow man that identifies who you are.
We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi."
He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment. I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists.
"Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster," the man said to Erik.
My husband and I exchanged looks, 'What do we do?' Erik continued to laugh and answer, 'Hi.' Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room.
"Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo."
Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments. We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. 'Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,' I prayed.
As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's 'pick-me-up' position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man. Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine.
He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of this baby."
Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that contained a stone.
He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, "God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift."
I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, 'My God, my God, forgive me.' I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was God asking, 'Are you willing to share your son for a moment?' when He shared His for all eternity. The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, "To enter ... , we must become as little children."
Sometimes, it takes a child to remind us of what is really important. We must always remember who we are, where we came from and, most importantly, how we feel about others. The clothes on your back or the car that you drive or the house that you live in does not define you at all; it is how you treat your fellow man that identifies who you are.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
A Tasty Recipe
If you're anything like me, figuring out what to make for dinner some nights is more difficult than 24 hours of labor followed by a c-section. I recently found a new recipe that fit my three criteria:
1) the whole family likes it,
2) it's healthy, and
3) I have everything I need already in the house
This recipe hit all three - home run!
Chicken & Zucchini Risotto Skillet
3 boneless chicken breasts, halved
salt & pepper
1 T olive oil
1/2 medium onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese
1 lemon, zested
2 cups milk
1 can condensed cream of chicken soup
1 large zucchini (or 2 cups of any veggie you like asparagus, green beans, etc.)
2 cups of instant long grain rice*
Season chicken with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add seasoned chicken and then cook for 5-7 minutes on each side or until chicken is no longer pink. Remove chicken from pan; keep warm. Add onion and garlic to pan and saute just to soften. Then add milk, soup, zucchini, cheese, lemon zest. Bring to boil and reduce heat. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Simmer 3 minutes. Stir in rice and then top with cooked chicken halves. Cover pan and remove from heat. Let stand for 5 minutes.
*I don't usually have this in the house, but I did have orzo pasta which worked great! I decreased the amount fof orzo from 2 cups to 1 cup and let it simmer on low heat (covered) until pasta was fully cooked. That took about 10 minutes.
1) the whole family likes it,
2) it's healthy, and
3) I have everything I need already in the house
This recipe hit all three - home run!
Chicken & Zucchini Risotto Skillet
3 boneless chicken breasts, halved
salt & pepper
1 T olive oil
1/2 medium onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese
1 lemon, zested
2 cups milk
1 can condensed cream of chicken soup
1 large zucchini (or 2 cups of any veggie you like asparagus, green beans, etc.)
2 cups of instant long grain rice*
Season chicken with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add seasoned chicken and then cook for 5-7 minutes on each side or until chicken is no longer pink. Remove chicken from pan; keep warm. Add onion and garlic to pan and saute just to soften. Then add milk, soup, zucchini, cheese, lemon zest. Bring to boil and reduce heat. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Simmer 3 minutes. Stir in rice and then top with cooked chicken halves. Cover pan and remove from heat. Let stand for 5 minutes.
*I don't usually have this in the house, but I did have orzo pasta which worked great! I decreased the amount fof orzo from 2 cups to 1 cup and let it simmer on low heat (covered) until pasta was fully cooked. That took about 10 minutes.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
A Bad Hair Day
Since I'm only on my first kid and she's only 18 months old I'm still pretty much grappling in the dark on a lot of things. She's at that age where she cries if I leave the room, but then doesn't want to come home when I go to pick her up from the babysitter (uugghh...knife to the heart!). I just had one of those days where I feel like I'm really not sure I doing that great of a job balancing my responsibilities. I felt like a dog chasing her tail all day, accomplishing nothing at work. I've taken on this huge new job that has me working more hours; which means time away from Cassie? On the one hand it's the opportunity of a lifetime to do something meaningful that is a deep expression of my beliefs, but what about Cassie? I know staying at home isn't what makes you a good mom, but sometimes I think about all the time I'm away from her and it feels like a big rock in my stomach. I could really benefit from some perspective from some moms with a little more time in the trenches...that and a good cry. So I've got the crying covered...anyone?
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Conference Call - Fantasy Weekend
For those of you interested in helping to plan the Mom's Retreat (see June 15, 2008 blog titled "Fantasy Weekend"), a conference call has been scheduled for Wed., Sept. 10th at 9:00pm. If you'd like to join us, please call into the following number:
1-888-617-3400
When prompted, dial passcode: 1005278# (Be sure to include the # when entering the passcode).
1-888-617-3400
When prompted, dial passcode: 1005278# (Be sure to include the # when entering the passcode).
About Breast Cancer
My good friend, Katherine, whose mother died of breat cancer at a young age sent this to me. It is worth watching. Sometimes I get scared by these sorts of reports, but I found this one empowering. Please watch the video link about Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC)below:
http://komonews.s3.amazonaws.com/ibc/komo_ibc.wmv
http://komonews.s3.amazonaws.com/ibc/komo_ibc.wmv
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Creative Parenting
For about 10 seconds I actually thought about it...okay, maybe 30 seconds!
P.S. This is not Cassie!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
When 17 Months is the New 2
Okay, this is a cry for help...my child has been possessed by a demon. My once beautiful, smart, sweet little girl has episodes of the following:
1) She arches her back, kicks her feet when I try to put her in her carseat
2) She runs the opposite direction when I call her to come
3) She flops herself on the ground and throws a fit when I try to pick her up
4) She screams, cries, and whines
5) She tells me "no" and then smirks at me
Have any of you seen these symptoms exhibited in your children? From what I've heard, the screaming and whining might be a characterisitcs that typically manifest themselves in little girls. These episodes are sporadic and seem to be brought on by fatigue, but can happen at anytime without warning. They also seem to be especially pronounced in public. Help!
-Frazzled Mother
1) She arches her back, kicks her feet when I try to put her in her carseat
2) She runs the opposite direction when I call her to come
3) She flops herself on the ground and throws a fit when I try to pick her up
4) She screams, cries, and whines
5) She tells me "no" and then smirks at me
Have any of you seen these symptoms exhibited in your children? From what I've heard, the screaming and whining might be a characterisitcs that typically manifest themselves in little girls. These episodes are sporadic and seem to be brought on by fatigue, but can happen at anytime without warning. They also seem to be especially pronounced in public. Help!
-Frazzled Mother
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Radio Head
Do you know how sometimes you hear something and you couldn't have said it better yourself. After a month of packing, moving, Alaska and remodeling, I can't remember the last time Cassie saw a vegetable - that is unless french fries count as vegetables. Organic...what's that?
This report called "Nuggets" is definitely worth a good laugh: http://podcastdownload.npr.org/anon.npr-podcasts/podcast/145/510130/93015063/KPCC_93015063.mp3
I love it when moms tell the truth!!! Enjoy.
This report called "Nuggets" is definitely worth a good laugh: http://podcastdownload.npr.org/anon.npr-podcasts/podcast/145/510130/93015063/KPCC_93015063.mp3
I love it when moms tell the truth!!! Enjoy.
Monday, July 28, 2008
the baby goes to kindergarten
Auden's first day of kindergarten is tomorrow. So far it looks muddy to me. First, his teacher is in retirement mode and working a 110 contract. This means she isn't starting the school year with the kiddos. She isn't allowed to work in July on this contract, but 110 calendar days... Second, she's a tough teacher, has high expectations, and picky, picky, PICKY. Third, I'm still not sure he's ready. And last but not least, I'm not ready... This is it. The end. Someone else out there has the potential to influence him more than me. And I don't like this teacher. I don't want her to be the one that tears down his imagination, dashes his hopes, or turn him into a bitter, hopeless little boy! I don't want anyone to do that to him. I want him to stay sweet and innocent forever....
Monday, June 16, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Fantasy Weekend
Okay, so I've been dealing with a lot of change in my life lately and it has made me feel very lonely at times. I have found myself really missing my close girlfriends - the ones that I can tell all the screwed up thoughts about myself to without worrying what they're going to think about me. It got me thinking about how hard it is to find time to nurture the relationships with other women that I treasure and how much I really need that nourishment for my soul. I can't lie...what really started me thinking about this was the drink I was going to make myself once Cassie was asleep later that night. This of course, got me fantasizing about those weekends in college where you could go out with your girlfriends and drink yourself silly without having to wait until the baby is in bed or care about the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Keep in mind, this was all happening as I sat in rush hour traffic on Friday afternoon with Cassie passed out in her car seat - just to set the scene. Yes, I was paying attention to the road. I'm a woman; I multi-task!
Anyway, I digress. So I started calling a few of my girlfriends in an effort to talk some of this over before I burst into tears on the 91 freeway. Unfortunately, none of them answered their phones...which got me thinking...their lives are as crazy as mine and maybe I wasn't totally alone in my misery. I'd like to say that this made me feel better, but it didn't. However, about 20 minutes down the road (by the way, this is about 7 miles in 91 freeway time), when the self-pity and self-loathing started to retreat, I got an idea. What if we had a reason to get together once a year for something that was affordable and meaningful enough that we would leave our kids, spouse, and take a day off of work if necessary to nourish our souls?
This got me excited because my next thought was about my bachelorette party. No, we're not back to the drinking again. Unlike many bachelorette parties, my sisters planned the perfect girls getaway with plenty of time for talking and catching up with friends while still making room for some pampering. That weekend was one of those special moments in time that I hold on to because I knew it was one of those moments that couldn't be repeated. It was at this great location on the central coast of California called Sycamore Springs http://www.sycamoresprings.com/. A few of you will remember this place. The area is near the beach, wine tasting, has spa and mineral springs facilities, paths for hiking, affordable lodging, good food...what else needs to be said after wine and food??
So now for the idea - A Women's Retreat Weekend. There would be a loose itinerary allowing time for sleeping-in, reading, catching up with old friends, and making new ones, but would also have opportunities to feed the body, mind and spirit. We wouldn't bring in outsiders to facilitate it; it would be facilitated by the women in attendance. Each woman could participate in as little or as much as she wanted.
Here are some ideas to give you a better picture of what I'm thinking about: yoga session(s), book review, cooking class, arts & crafts (although this would not be a sales opportunity for scrapbooking or stamping), meditation, etc. All this would be coordinated by one or more of the women attending the weekend. There could also be time for things such as spa treatments, wine tasting, and exploring the area. There would also be sometime each day where we would all come together, connect and share.
So I haven't worked out any details beyond this, but does this interest anyone? I'd love to attend something like this, and I'm willing to take the lead, but I would need a commitment from other women to help make the weekend happen - an event committee so to speak.
Post your thoughts and if there's enough interest, perhaps we can work for something next year.
Anyway, I digress. So I started calling a few of my girlfriends in an effort to talk some of this over before I burst into tears on the 91 freeway. Unfortunately, none of them answered their phones...which got me thinking...their lives are as crazy as mine and maybe I wasn't totally alone in my misery. I'd like to say that this made me feel better, but it didn't. However, about 20 minutes down the road (by the way, this is about 7 miles in 91 freeway time), when the self-pity and self-loathing started to retreat, I got an idea. What if we had a reason to get together once a year for something that was affordable and meaningful enough that we would leave our kids, spouse, and take a day off of work if necessary to nourish our souls?
This got me excited because my next thought was about my bachelorette party. No, we're not back to the drinking again. Unlike many bachelorette parties, my sisters planned the perfect girls getaway with plenty of time for talking and catching up with friends while still making room for some pampering. That weekend was one of those special moments in time that I hold on to because I knew it was one of those moments that couldn't be repeated. It was at this great location on the central coast of California called Sycamore Springs http://www.sycamoresprings.com/. A few of you will remember this place. The area is near the beach, wine tasting, has spa and mineral springs facilities, paths for hiking, affordable lodging, good food...what else needs to be said after wine and food??
So now for the idea - A Women's Retreat Weekend. There would be a loose itinerary allowing time for sleeping-in, reading, catching up with old friends, and making new ones, but would also have opportunities to feed the body, mind and spirit. We wouldn't bring in outsiders to facilitate it; it would be facilitated by the women in attendance. Each woman could participate in as little or as much as she wanted.
Here are some ideas to give you a better picture of what I'm thinking about: yoga session(s), book review, cooking class, arts & crafts (although this would not be a sales opportunity for scrapbooking or stamping), meditation, etc. All this would be coordinated by one or more of the women attending the weekend. There could also be time for things such as spa treatments, wine tasting, and exploring the area. There would also be sometime each day where we would all come together, connect and share.
So I haven't worked out any details beyond this, but does this interest anyone? I'd love to attend something like this, and I'm willing to take the lead, but I would need a commitment from other women to help make the weekend happen - an event committee so to speak.
Post your thoughts and if there's enough interest, perhaps we can work for something next year.
If You Give a Mommy a Muffin
Just a little something we can all relate to!!
If you give a Mom a muffin...
She'll want a strong cup of coffee to go with it.
She'll make herself some.
Her three year old will spill the coffee.
She'll wipe it up.
Wiping the floor, she'll find dirty socks.
She'll remember she has to do laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer, she'll trip over boots and bump into the box of Goodwill items.
Bumping into the Goodwill items will remind her she has to get these boxes in the car and out of her basement.
When she puts the boxes in the car, she'll find a bag of groceries and this will remind her she has to cook dinner.
She will get out the chicken defrosting in the fridge.
She'll look for her cookbook (101 Things To Do With Chicken).
The cookbook will be sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the Netflix movie she's meant to mail and the preschool bill, which is due tomorrow.
She will look for her checkbook.
The checkbook will be in her purse that is being dumped out by her one year old.
She'll smell something funny.
She'll change the baby's diaper.
As she finishes up, she'll realize she brought the hand sanitizer down to the kitchen.
While she is throwing away the diaper and searching for the hand sanitizer, the phone will ring.
Her three year old will answer and hang up.
She'll remember she wants to phone a friend not for coffee but a very strong drink.
Thinking of drinking will remind her that she was going to have a cup of coffee in order to stay awake for the rest of the day.
And chances are...
If she finds her cup of coffee (which she has to reheat by now), her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Happy Mother's Day...Belated!
As I was thinking about Mother's Day this last week and weekend I thought, "Well, darn it, your blog is for mothers you've got to write something in honor of Mother's Day!" As I shifted through a lot of bad ideas, I started thinking about my friend Imelda who became the mother of twin girls 8 months ago.
A couple of weekends ago, Scott, Cassie and I drove up to San Gabriel to visit Imelda, Turhan and their two little girls Camilla and Maya. I had met Camilla before, but hadn't had the chance to meet Maya because she had been in the hospital for some time after her birth. Watching Imelda with her girls really touched and inspired me. She tended to an average 8 month old, Camilla, while nuturing tiny little Maya, no bigger than a 4 month old, as she grows bigger and stronger. Imelda went from one task to another, juggling the needs of each one with such grace and confidence...like an old pro. There have been so many times when I have been overwhelmed by the needs of my one little Cassie that watching her left me in awe.
Now I'm sure that when Imelda reads this that she will probably laugh her head-off thinking I must have been smoking something really good that day. Both Scott and Turhan were there and I'm sure wouldn't have any clue about what I'm writing about. Cassie was getting into everything, climbing all over the house and putting every electrical cord in her mouth, Camilla was hungry and letting us know about it, Maya was checking us out as we were all trying to catch up on the last year of our lives. In the midst of it all, Imelda excitedly celebrated Maya 's first cooing sounds. Imelda had the whole scene under control and was still able to keep up a coherent conversation.
Experiencing my second Mother's Day is much different than experiencing my first. I am so much more aware of what it means to be a mother. The last 14 months of my life have created a confidence in me that I wasn't aware I possessed. It's also drawn out my weaknesses, but that seems okay when I put them up against what I've learned about myself since last Mother's Day. Mainly that, I can do it! I can really do this mom thing and be good at it...I can ask for help and not be weak...I can be silly in front of strangers and not care what they think about me...I can love myself with the same tenderness that my daugther loves me...I can appreciate the deep and tender love that my own mother has given me all these years...I can see the competence in another mom and give myself credit for the same. Watching Imelda, I realized that no one but a mom understands the heart of another mother - the sweat, the tears, the doubt, the heartbreaking love, the joy, the strength. Even the most dedicated, involved and loving father can't understand what we mother's appreciate about each other. There is something about being the protectress of the family that binds us together.
I am blessed to know many wonderful mothers and I honor each of you. You inspire me on my own motherhood journey. Thank you for that gift! Happy Mother's Day!
A couple of weekends ago, Scott, Cassie and I drove up to San Gabriel to visit Imelda, Turhan and their two little girls Camilla and Maya. I had met Camilla before, but hadn't had the chance to meet Maya because she had been in the hospital for some time after her birth. Watching Imelda with her girls really touched and inspired me. She tended to an average 8 month old, Camilla, while nuturing tiny little Maya, no bigger than a 4 month old, as she grows bigger and stronger. Imelda went from one task to another, juggling the needs of each one with such grace and confidence...like an old pro. There have been so many times when I have been overwhelmed by the needs of my one little Cassie that watching her left me in awe.
Now I'm sure that when Imelda reads this that she will probably laugh her head-off thinking I must have been smoking something really good that day. Both Scott and Turhan were there and I'm sure wouldn't have any clue about what I'm writing about. Cassie was getting into everything, climbing all over the house and putting every electrical cord in her mouth, Camilla was hungry and letting us know about it, Maya was checking us out as we were all trying to catch up on the last year of our lives. In the midst of it all, Imelda excitedly celebrated Maya 's first cooing sounds. Imelda had the whole scene under control and was still able to keep up a coherent conversation.
Experiencing my second Mother's Day is much different than experiencing my first. I am so much more aware of what it means to be a mother. The last 14 months of my life have created a confidence in me that I wasn't aware I possessed. It's also drawn out my weaknesses, but that seems okay when I put them up against what I've learned about myself since last Mother's Day. Mainly that, I can do it! I can really do this mom thing and be good at it...I can ask for help and not be weak...I can be silly in front of strangers and not care what they think about me...I can love myself with the same tenderness that my daugther loves me...I can appreciate the deep and tender love that my own mother has given me all these years...I can see the competence in another mom and give myself credit for the same. Watching Imelda, I realized that no one but a mom understands the heart of another mother - the sweat, the tears, the doubt, the heartbreaking love, the joy, the strength. Even the most dedicated, involved and loving father can't understand what we mother's appreciate about each other. There is something about being the protectress of the family that binds us together.
I am blessed to know many wonderful mothers and I honor each of you. You inspire me on my own motherhood journey. Thank you for that gift! Happy Mother's Day!
Friday, April 18, 2008
Acid Reflux
You can certainly tell from the lack of entries as of late that life has been a little more chaotic than usual. First it was Cassie's 1st birthday, then Easter, then...yada, yada, yada. I'm in totally uncharter waters is just about every aspect of my life right now and so I've clammed up. I've been hiding. You know that feeling of "if I say anything I'll jinx it". That about sums it up with a some self-doubt and anxiety thrown into it. I'm living on Zantac these days.
Okay, so what's going on? I've been offered a promotion at work and I want to take it. I'm wrestling with how I'm going to maintain the delicate balance I've created (and when I say delicate I mean fragile) with being wife, mom, and professional woman. I've been really proud of myself this past year in how I've felt at the end of each day - tired yes, but fulfilled more days than not. Cassie's thrived and Scott and I have grown closer to each other through our love for her. I'm afraid to mess it all up. Scott is supportive and encouraging even though it means a lot of upheaval for him. It makes me fell like a little girl inside not the competent and compassionate woman that I've become over the past 32 years. I'm afraid I'll fail, that people will see the scared little girl...and then what will I do.
And so the heartburn has started. It's not quite to the same level as when Scott quit his job at Norte Vista right after we got married or when I was pregnant for that matter. But it's there as a reminder that I'm worried. As I'm writing this, I'm aware that I am achieving a goal I didn't allow myself to say out loud for so many years. And I'm crossing a threshold into a world where I don't have a lot of mentors. It's probably the first time in my life where I feel like I can't look at my mom for an example of what to do, how to be. Honestly, I think I'm also feeling selfish for wanting this for myself, and for wanting it my way. I've actually heard myself say (you know in one of those internal conversations), "Who are you to ask for this? You'll never get it...you want too much." I'm afraid that if I ask for what I want that I won't get it and then I'll lose the opportunity all together.
You know, I'm really good at what I do. My greatest strength is helping others to see their own strengths and inspiring them to direct it to a common vision. If only I could apply that principle too myself. I'm on the ride but I'm white knuckling it - I'm not enjoying it. And God, I want to enjoy it! For the first time in my life, I'm grappling with what it means to be a woman as a wife and mother and as myself. I'll keep you posted on how it's going...to be continued.
Okay, so what's going on? I've been offered a promotion at work and I want to take it. I'm wrestling with how I'm going to maintain the delicate balance I've created (and when I say delicate I mean fragile) with being wife, mom, and professional woman. I've been really proud of myself this past year in how I've felt at the end of each day - tired yes, but fulfilled more days than not. Cassie's thrived and Scott and I have grown closer to each other through our love for her. I'm afraid to mess it all up. Scott is supportive and encouraging even though it means a lot of upheaval for him. It makes me fell like a little girl inside not the competent and compassionate woman that I've become over the past 32 years. I'm afraid I'll fail, that people will see the scared little girl...and then what will I do.
And so the heartburn has started. It's not quite to the same level as when Scott quit his job at Norte Vista right after we got married or when I was pregnant for that matter. But it's there as a reminder that I'm worried. As I'm writing this, I'm aware that I am achieving a goal I didn't allow myself to say out loud for so many years. And I'm crossing a threshold into a world where I don't have a lot of mentors. It's probably the first time in my life where I feel like I can't look at my mom for an example of what to do, how to be. Honestly, I think I'm also feeling selfish for wanting this for myself, and for wanting it my way. I've actually heard myself say (you know in one of those internal conversations), "Who are you to ask for this? You'll never get it...you want too much." I'm afraid that if I ask for what I want that I won't get it and then I'll lose the opportunity all together.
You know, I'm really good at what I do. My greatest strength is helping others to see their own strengths and inspiring them to direct it to a common vision. If only I could apply that principle too myself. I'm on the ride but I'm white knuckling it - I'm not enjoying it. And God, I want to enjoy it! For the first time in my life, I'm grappling with what it means to be a woman as a wife and mother and as myself. I'll keep you posted on how it's going...to be continued.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Childhood revisited
Here I go again... Colette (8 1/2 yo) has been coming home for the past few weeks (Wednesdays thru Fridays) "sharing" about friends. Their treating each other badly, poorly, disrespectfully, you pick the adjective. It only seems to come up the end of the school week. Obviously temperments have come to the lower thresholds... Anyway, I've been playing devil's advocate and trying to get her to see the other side without sharing too much of what I do know about the kids' home life. But the last two days I just have gotten frustrated and asking myself, "Why can't she see they're being so mean? Why can't she stand up for herself? What is so attractive about these girls that she needs them? Why is she still hanging out with them?" I see my childhood all over again through these talks Colette and I are sharing. Don't misunderstand - I am SO glad she's talking to me.
This morning before the bus pick up she's sharing again (timing isn't her thing just yet) about yesterday at recess. It was a Thursday so the girls fell into the trend they had set. To make the situation even worse they're all signed up for the talent show together. I asked her to drop out of the talent show. Yes, that's avoidance. But does she really need this nonsense in her life?! She looked disappointed - of course - so I said, "I want you to surround yourself with people that bring out the best in you," and used Rich and myself as examples I believed she could relate to. I first used my treasurer position in PTO. I don't hang out with the other board members. They're great volunteers but - well, let's leave it at that. I don't teach in the building I retired from because the principal and I didn't see issues the same way regarding best practices and such. I shared that Rich surrounds himself with employees that work well together and have their eye on the same prize. But I still hadn't made my point because she still "needed" those girls! So I came up with - "Colette, you are CEO and president of Colette Terese Martinez Inc. " She smiled. She liked that so I kept going. "You need to hire people that make you feel good and make you shine. Who are you going to hire?" She stopped to think and looked lost. So I offered "applicants". Some people she answered yes to with immediancy and others she gave a maybe or a no. This was working! The girls we were just talking about were maybe's or no's.
I was suddenly reminded of a time I was 7 and there was a new girl in the class. She had what we all thought was a rabbit fur coat and thought she was soooooo cool. One day she talked me into going home with her and I did. I didn't call home and came home waaaaay later than school let out. My mother, of course, was in a panic and I was grounded for a period of time, but I still liked that girl and would fall in line with ideas she had - we were in girl scouts together, talent show, slumber parties... I shared the playdate story with Colette. Her eyes got really big, "You did?!" I admitted it along with other ideas Lara came up with at slumber parties. "Should I have hired her, Colette?" "No, Mom. Grammie must have been really worried." I think I made my point.
Lesson = perhaps we shouldn't "curse" our children by saying we hope the have kids just like them when we're mad, frustrated, put out, pick the adjective.
This morning before the bus pick up she's sharing again (timing isn't her thing just yet) about yesterday at recess. It was a Thursday so the girls fell into the trend they had set. To make the situation even worse they're all signed up for the talent show together. I asked her to drop out of the talent show. Yes, that's avoidance. But does she really need this nonsense in her life?! She looked disappointed - of course - so I said, "I want you to surround yourself with people that bring out the best in you," and used Rich and myself as examples I believed she could relate to. I first used my treasurer position in PTO. I don't hang out with the other board members. They're great volunteers but - well, let's leave it at that. I don't teach in the building I retired from because the principal and I didn't see issues the same way regarding best practices and such. I shared that Rich surrounds himself with employees that work well together and have their eye on the same prize. But I still hadn't made my point because she still "needed" those girls! So I came up with - "Colette, you are CEO and president of Colette Terese Martinez Inc. " She smiled. She liked that so I kept going. "You need to hire people that make you feel good and make you shine. Who are you going to hire?" She stopped to think and looked lost. So I offered "applicants". Some people she answered yes to with immediancy and others she gave a maybe or a no. This was working! The girls we were just talking about were maybe's or no's.
I was suddenly reminded of a time I was 7 and there was a new girl in the class. She had what we all thought was a rabbit fur coat and thought she was soooooo cool. One day she talked me into going home with her and I did. I didn't call home and came home waaaaay later than school let out. My mother, of course, was in a panic and I was grounded for a period of time, but I still liked that girl and would fall in line with ideas she had - we were in girl scouts together, talent show, slumber parties... I shared the playdate story with Colette. Her eyes got really big, "You did?!" I admitted it along with other ideas Lara came up with at slumber parties. "Should I have hired her, Colette?" "No, Mom. Grammie must have been really worried." I think I made my point.
Lesson = perhaps we shouldn't "curse" our children by saying we hope the have kids just like them when we're mad, frustrated, put out, pick the adjective.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
It's Hard Not to Think that Parents Don't Care Anymore
Scott and I were at this Catholic conference this weekend. I know that sounds like a real snore, but it really wasn't. We've been to this thing before and this was the first time as parents which meant we were signed up for all the parenting focused workshops. It was actually really wonderful to do something like that together (i.e. working on being better parents together). Anyhow, one of the speakers, Dr. David Walsh, a psychologist who specializes in child and teen development and how the media plays a role in it, was especially great. He recently wrote a book called No. Why Kids-of All Ages-Need It and Ways Parents Can Say It. (http://www.mediafamily.org/store/no.shtml) that talks about the link between school/career success and self discipline...which or course we learn from how we are raised. I think I've had this attitude that some parents just don't care about teaching their children manners or appropriate behavior (and I know that some of them don't), but I came to the realization that parents are so darn scared of messing up that they don't do anything. I have a greater appreciation for how much effort and dedication it takes to be a vigilant parent about these sorts of things. Which, of course, is no excuse for those moms sitting around allowing their children to treat others with disrespect. God, help us!!
Anyway, I don't know what to say to make it better, Staci, except that you are an amazing mom raising the type of children who are going to grow up and make the world a different and better place for the next generation. You know, you've got to feel sorry for those other children whose parents think that discipline and consideration towards others aren't important enough to teach them - like good character just develops in a person like magic.
So I just wanted to say...vent all you want! You're doing a great job mom!
Anyway, I don't know what to say to make it better, Staci, except that you are an amazing mom raising the type of children who are going to grow up and make the world a different and better place for the next generation. You know, you've got to feel sorry for those other children whose parents think that discipline and consideration towards others aren't important enough to teach them - like good character just develops in a person like magic.
So I just wanted to say...vent all you want! You're doing a great job mom!
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Normal?!
So I thought I'd treat Auden to lunch out after story time and before preschool. Not a lot of time in between but I forgot to pack a lunch. So we head to Mickey D's. They have a play place too. So we order the happy meal with dippers and milk and a yogurt parfait and sit to begin lunch that gets many play breaks. Auden takes two bites and runs off, comes back, takes two more bites, and runs off again. Indigestion waiting to happen in my world but not his until he hits thirty or so.
I look up to see what he's up to only to find another kid pushing a hitting him. Auden doesn't want to take the abuse but knows how I am about him returning "eye for an eye" maneuvers. I politely tell the mother of the little girl - yep a girl - that her daughter is abusing my son. She heads straight for her kiddo to put a stop to it. Yea!
But wait not five minutes later she's doing it again pushing Auden down and getting her littler brother in on the action too. So now I'm up in the play place telling them to keep their hands to themselves. Auden comes down for two bites and all is well until a slew of new arrivals run in screaming at the top of their lungs.
Why is screaming okay? I get it if you're outside but we're not in this situation. This was the original question or thought for me, but then some of the new arrivals started pushing Auden around and throwing him into the poles. The other moms just watched! Is that because it wasn't their kid getting pushed around or is this normal?! I'm a bit outraged and because I don't which monster belongs to which oblivious woman, I step in - literally - between two kids and Auden. I explain that there is no need to touch anybody and asked if he'd like it if Auden was doing the pushing to him. The kid stood there and blew spit bubbles at me! Why are these behaviors okay? I tell you, I think it just makes it harder to parent. I'm so disappointed in the mothers that were there today and hope I set a better example without a "holier than thou" attitude.
Just needed to vent and knew this was the place.
I look up to see what he's up to only to find another kid pushing a hitting him. Auden doesn't want to take the abuse but knows how I am about him returning "eye for an eye" maneuvers. I politely tell the mother of the little girl - yep a girl - that her daughter is abusing my son. She heads straight for her kiddo to put a stop to it. Yea!
But wait not five minutes later she's doing it again pushing Auden down and getting her littler brother in on the action too. So now I'm up in the play place telling them to keep their hands to themselves. Auden comes down for two bites and all is well until a slew of new arrivals run in screaming at the top of their lungs.
Why is screaming okay? I get it if you're outside but we're not in this situation. This was the original question or thought for me, but then some of the new arrivals started pushing Auden around and throwing him into the poles. The other moms just watched! Is that because it wasn't their kid getting pushed around or is this normal?! I'm a bit outraged and because I don't which monster belongs to which oblivious woman, I step in - literally - between two kids and Auden. I explain that there is no need to touch anybody and asked if he'd like it if Auden was doing the pushing to him. The kid stood there and blew spit bubbles at me! Why are these behaviors okay? I tell you, I think it just makes it harder to parent. I'm so disappointed in the mothers that were there today and hope I set a better example without a "holier than thou" attitude.
Just needed to vent and knew this was the place.
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