motherhood Archives - Page 3 of 4

November 4, 2017

#20 – A Day of Understanding

I’m sitting on my couch tonight reflecting on my day, and feeling very grateful for understanding mothers. It was not an awful day. In fact, it was a pretty good day minus about 30 minutes. But I encountered a few mothers who were understanding of one mother trying to shape her daughter to be a good person.

I took Girlie grocery shopping today. Every Saturday morning she comes shopping with me while hubby and Sweet Boy clean up around the house. I call her my shopping buddy. Girlie is not that child in the store who you see sitting quietly in the front seat while mom compares the labels on the granola bars. Girlie is in the front, in the carriage, holding my hand, helping me push, riding on the back and holding onto the side. She lasts about 2 minutes in each position and repeats her cycle a few times each trip.

Today she wandered away to see a box of oatmeal with a pumpkin on the front and squeezed her way past a couple looking at the cereal across the aisle. I reminded her to say excuse me when she walks past someone, so she looked at the couple and said excuse me in her cutest little voice. They gave her the biggest smile and told her it was okay. This mom really wants to thank that couple for taking the time to engage with my child as I try to teach her some manners.

As we got to the end of the trip, Girlie was getting tired and craving half of the food in our carriage. We came to the grapes and I started to pick a bag. She pushed past a woman and tried to take a sample of her favorite fruit. Again, I reminded Girlie to say excuse me and I apologized for my daughter pushing her. Girlie said excuse me, not quite as cutely as the first time, and the second woman told her, “That’s okay, sweetie.”

The woman then turned to me and said, “Don’t worry about it momma, I’ve got three at home. I’m so used to kids bumping into my legs, I don’t even feel it anymore.”

Again, another parent who engaged with my child to help her learn manners. But this mother also showed me kindness and understanding. She understands life with littles, and wasn’t upset that mine pushed her for a grape.

The Tantrum

Now back to that ugly 30 minutes. I brought the kiddos to a birthday party today. It was at a crowded campground, and parking was both tight and improvised. Both kids were really tired and cranky and I could tell that either one of them could turn into full-blown tantrum mode at any second. Hubby was at a different party, so I decided that we should leave early.

The mom who had to move her car so we could get out was so patient. Sweet Boy was whining about leaving, but he knew that I wasn’t changing my mind. Girlie took the turn I knew was coming. Full-blown, screaming, twisting, turning, flailing tantrum. It took me a good 10 minutes to get her in the car. I apologized to the mom waiting to pull into my spot. She smiled and said, “I’ve got a toddler. I completely understand. Take all the time you need.”

That third example of patience, kindness, and understanding absolutely made my day. That woman could have been totally put off by how long it took to get Girlie in the car. But she wasn’t. And it was the third time I’d seen that same kind of understanding in one day.

Look. Raising little people is hard. Very few kids come out with good manners and impulse control. It takes a lot of time, consistency, and patience to instill those qualities. So when total strangers help your kiddos learn manners and understand when your kids are not perfect, you really have to be grateful.

So, ladies and sir – from this Old Mom, thank you.

Photo by l4anyrat

Photo by Daniel Hughes

November 2, 2017

#19- Making it all Work for a Working Mom

Most days this working mom goes from 5:00 AM to 8:30 PM with no breaks unless you count my commuting time. 5:00-6:00 AM is my time. Shower, breakfast, and lots and lots of coffee. I also try to squeeze in a load of laundry and empty the dishwasher.

When the kids are up before 6:00, they go see Daddy. Most days he gets at least one of them dressed. Then we get them fed, teeth brushed and a last 10 minutes to put on shoes and coats before we head out.

We drive half an hour to daycare then I drive another half an hour to work. I try to have good heart-to-heart chats with the kids during our car time because it’s important to me that those chats don’t get lost in the runaround. I do mental lesson planning and meal planning during the quiet half hour.

My work day is so fulfilling, but so physically and mentally exhausting. I get to teach children through musical play (the way its supposed to be done if you ask me). We sing, dance, play circle games, play instruments. I love it all, but I’m 41, and it takes a lot of energy to get through the day.

During the commute home, I reflect on my work day. What went well, what can I do better? I pick up the kids and we talk about their days. On the good days, they can make it halfway home before the tired, hungry monsters take over and they argue about everything from what actually happened at daycare to where the moon is tonight or whose turn it is to sing 5 Little Ducks.

When we get home I cook supper and try to pick up a bit and maybe get one more load of laundry done. We push through bath time, story time, and stagger the bedtimes. Any time left over I use to exercise and prep my lunch for the next day. I sit and relax for a few minutes with my husband and then go to sleep and repeat.

Making it a little easier

I have a few kitchen tools that help manage the craziness of my day. My slow cooker is my biggest kitchen helper. I made sure to get one with a timer so when I’m out for 10 hours, the food can sit on warm for the last two hours. It’s also great for cooking in big batches so I have leftovers for lunch or to put in the freezer for another day.

The second thing I use all the time is my hard boiled egg cooker. You don’t have to watch a pot waiting for it to boil so you can time the eggs. You just put them in with some water, push the button and it beeps when it’s done. I can prep breakfast ahead for a few days or make egg salad for a family lunch, all while finding something else that needs to be done. Yay, multi-tasking!

The last thing I’ll share are these cute little reusable containers. They are just 1/2 cup which is perfect for snacks. I use them for crackers, baked oatmeal servings, dressing for my salad, nuts. And I like to put those containers together on the weekend so I can just grab a few containers to put my lunch together every night. Such a cool size for a reusable container.

Being a working mom is hard. What secrets do you use to make the most of your mom time?

Photo by rankun76

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October 24, 2017October 24, 2017

Find a Daycare You Love – How We Got a Good One and the Mistakes We Made

My first year back to work was really difficult. Sweet Boy had his health issues, but I was also very suspect of the care he was getting. Being a teacher, I was all for the large daycare model to prepare my child for his school years. But the large center was not for us.

Problem #1- Don’t ignore your gut, or in our case, your husband’s gut.

When I went to visit the local daycares, I fell in love with the two infant teachers at the largest center. They were warm, caring women who were also very knowledgeable about infants. My husband did not like the overall vibe he got from the center, but I loved those women and we signed the papers.

Problem #2- If the staff is hinting that a place is a germ factory, it probably is.

Over the six months, they took care of Sweet Boy, they were so good about giving me a gentle push when I needed it, whether it was about feeding, teething, or even getting Sweet Boy to a specialist. More than anything, I appreciated their candor about the number of families sending sick children to the center. They knew he got every virus and he got it worse than most. Really, they knew he was in the wrong place. I loved those women and still keep in touch with them today on Facebook.

Problem #3- If it’s important to you and not to your child care providers, run!

When Sweet Boy was one, he moved up to the toddler room. I was less happy during his four months with those ladies. Every time I came in, the lead teacher was distracted. Most mornings she had her head in a magazine. Sometimes it was work related, but it was more shopping magazines. She rarely greeted me or my child, and that REALLY bothered me. How would my boy learn basic manners from someone who didn’t have them herself?

The toddler room was also a lot more open with the rest of the daycare, and we found ourselves making a lot of trips to the pediatrician for issues that were not necessarily related to Sweet Boy’s health issues. Pink eye, stomach bugs, rashes. I know its typical kid stuff, but getting pink eye once a month is not really typical. Plus with all of the colds going around the center, his asthma and ear infections were pushed to the max. He started needing shots of antibiotics because the oral ones weren’t strong enough anymore.

Problem #4- If they are only telling you about his negative behaviors, and never have anything nice to say about your kid, they probably don’t like kids.

As the months went on, Sweet Boy had some issues with one of his peers. He would grab toys from her, and she would in return bite him–every day. As tragic as it may seem to a new mom, the teacher in me had enough Ed. Psych background to know it was pretty normal toddler stuff. Kiddos are pretty instinctual at that age with very few words to use. I got plenty of reports of him being bitten and even more of him having trouble sharing.

So after seven bites in one week, I calmly asked if they had any strategies for keeping the two away from each other to prevent the issue. I knew my child was a part of the problem, but that doesn’t mean I want him to get bit. The lead teacher snapped at me saying it was all Sweet Boy’s fault because he was the bully in the situation. I know Bully has been a buzz word for a few years now, but I really couldn’t believe she called a 15-month-old a bully. I could tell from the other teacher’s faces that they all knew she had crossed a line.

We pulled Sweet Boy out at the end of the month and the directors got a very detailed letter describing the many reasons we were leaving. They haven’t changed anything and that teacher is still there three years later, while all the teachers we liked are not. So, I know now that the problem was more systemic than just a one-person problem.

The new search

That whole summer I was nervously searching for a new daycare. I remember Sweet Boy’s infant teachers gently pushing me to find a smaller placement for him. And after a very difficult year in the center, my husband put his foot down. We were going to find a home daycare this time. A friend of mine mentioned to me that one of her former co-workers now had a home daycare and I should check her out. My friend told me that this woman was very detail-oriented and thorough and she would absolutely trust her with her kids.

Step one- check. Get a personal recommendation.

When I went for a visit, a few things struck me right away. It was considered a large home daycare. 13 kids and three adults. My fears about my kid getting into trouble when the teacher had to pee were not relevant here (and yes, I had those fears before I had Girlie). I also loved that the director’s husband was one of the teachers and later worked as one of the subs. Men and women are different with kids and I think it is important that kids know both.

They were also confident that they could meet the needs of his reflux diet. They served healthy meals, and right on the spot, she had a few healthy switches she could easily make to keep him healthy. After that first visit, I was confident that this was the place for my boy.

Step two- check. Visit and see your personal values in action.

In his first year, Sweet Boy was encouraged to use his words, pushed to pursue his love of learning, showed how to work out problems, and never treated like a bully as he was still learning to share and take turns. He had a few rough patches during the winter when his asthma meds affected his personality, but the staff was very sensitive to the side effects of his medications. I never got a report that was all negative. There was always a bright spot to his day, and I always heard about it.

Step 3- check. Make sure they actually like kids, in all their stages.

They saved a spot for us when they learned I was expecting. Girlie had an amazing first year with them. They gave us suggestions for dealing with Girlie’s lactose sensitivity and snuggled her during those 7 miserable months where she got 16 teeth.

As both my kids go through the “terrible twos” and the “Why threes?” the teachers guide them to be good people. They teach them about letters, numbers, colors, dinosaurs, planting, cooking, animals, and outer-space. And all that is wonderful. But teaching them to be good people is what is most important to me. Studies show that self-regulation and social skills are crucial in being ready for kindergarten, and I am so glad that is what my kids are getting.

As a working mom, knowing my kids are at a daycare with amazing teachers who have the same values and priorities makes sending my kids there so much easier. And having seen the other side of the spectrum, I am so grateful for our daycare family.

Photo by U.S. Embassy, Manila Philippines

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October 19, 2017October 19, 2017

Sweet Boy’s Humor

Like most 4-year-olds, Sweet Boy is a big fan of Paw Patrol, Spider-man, and Hot Wheels. But having older parents who like to explore Amazon Prime and YouTube means he also has a more eclectic taste in cartoons.

I teach music, so of course, I like to share classic musicals with the kids. We started with Mary Poppins (my favorite). By the second day of the rental, they had half of the songs memorized, and were using a British accent. We tried Chitty Chitty Bang Bang next. If you’ve never heard a 2 and 4-year-old try to sing Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, you’ve seriously got to try it.

He loves classic Peanuts movies. We showed him Snoopy Come Home a few weeks before his third surgery. In the movie, Snoopy returns to his original owner, Lila, while she is sick in the hospital to help her recover. While in the hospital, my husband watched it with him on a continuous loop.

He loved the “No Dogs Allowed” song, and maybe the only kid in America who can correctly pronounce the name, Thurl Ravenscroft. I may be married to the only man in America who would teach his three-year-old son to pronounce the name, Thurl Ravenscroft. At any rate, listening to a three-year-old try to do an impression of No Dog’s Allowed might be the cutest thing in the history of the world.

We also got him a stuffed Snoopy to take with him to the hospital to comfort him. A year later, Sweet Boy still looks for Snoopy when he’s not feeling well.

Daddy’s Favorites

My husband takes great pride in choosing shows that will challenge our kids. Hubby’s favorites are often his father’s favorites, so many of them are 50 years old or more. Only the George Carlin episodes of Thomas were good enough. Sweet Boy has tried Rocky & Bullwinkle, Underdog, Danger Mouse, Tennessee Tuxedo and The Ant and the Aardvark. Honestly, I hadn’t heard of half of the cartoons he was showing him, and I’m the older one in our marriage. As Sweet Boy has gotten older, Daddy now shows him Mystery Science 3000 and select clips of Woody Allen movies (very select clips–or mommy gets cross).

Sweet Boy loves all of the older stuff, but his sense of humor often out-dates even his pre-school teachers. I hope that when he goes to school his humor will be appreciated because he really is quite clever. Maybe he can find some friends who also have an older mom and dad.

Photo by collectpeanuts

October 17, 2017

#17- The Return of the Sleepless Nights

If you’ve been following this blog, you probably know that girlie is a climber. We put her in a toddler bed just before she turned two because she was climbing out of her crib.

For the first few months, she did great. We were pleasantly surprised. But over the summer she started doing what we would have expected – coming to visit in the middle of the night. Sometimes she just stares at us until we wake up. Other nights she climbs over my husband’s face to come snuggle with me.

With the boy, I was a pro at going right back to sleep after taking care of his nightly needs. But since I turned 40, I just can’t go back to sleep.

Last night she came in, and all she needed was one snuggle and one song to go right back to sleep. I was up for three more hours. Hot flashes, mind racing, Candy Crush frustration, Pinterest. Everything was keeping me from going back to sleep.

Usually, after an hour or so, I start cleaning. Tonight I did the bathrooms and organized the playroom. My husband knows when he smells bleach in the morning to give me some space until the third cup of coffee has kicked in. He offers some compliments about the playroom. I just look up from my coffee and grunt. He gets the kids dressed. I look up again and mumble, “Thanks”. He changes Girlie’s diaper and I make a snide remark about how many I change.

Just keep the coffee going, please. Put on Amazon Prime so the kids keep quiet while the caffeine is slowly bringing my body back to its human form. At this point, hugs and compliments are nice. Coffee is better.

The day goes on. The kids play outside while I watch from the deck, reading a book and counting the minutes until nap time.

Photo by Ben124.

September 19, 2017September 22, 2017

#13-There’s Something About September

It’s September which means Old Mom really can’t sleep. It’s not from being back to school. I’m on my feet all day dancing with the school kiddos and running around trying to get everything done around the house for the few hours a day that I am home. My body is absolutely exhausted. I really can’t sleep because September is an awful month for Sweet Boy health wise. Some years it’s croup. Some years it’s asthma. But Sweet Boy always has a hard time in September.

As a teacher, I’m fortunate to have a good bit of sick time. I rarely used it for the first 15 years. I only see my students once a week. Sometimes they get a sub for me. Sometimes they don’t. But my students very rarely have a quality musical experience when I’m not there. So I always feel pressure to be at work unless it is an absolute emergency. Not from my fellow teachers, but from the sweet faces that ask why I missed their music day.

Then came my boy. My Sweet Boy who suffers from Asthma, Acid Reflux and complications from a cleft in his larynx. September is a nightmare for him. Here in Connecticut, it can be 45 degrees when you wake up in the morning and 80 when you go out to play in the afternoon. And we get a lot of very humid days. And the ragweed makes allergy sufferers miserable. The rapidly changing temperatures and poor air quality are a nightmare for children with breathing problems.

It all starts with the first sniffle or sneeze. From that point, my ears are on high alert just waiting for the worst. I know that his coughs will be at their worst at night, so I always feel like I’m just waiting for the worst. As soon as the first cough arrives, the nebulizer treatments begin. The preventative treatments, for lack of a better word, SUCK! They keep him awake way past his bedtime, but they also make him very moody. His usual demeanor disappears and he starts arguing with everyone- family, friends, teachers.

Sometimes the preventative meds work and the cold will pass after a week like normal kids. But it never seems to work that way in September. Usually, the September cold turns into croup and we end up in the ER. We’ve been pretty blessed this year that his cold has “only” turned into an asthma week. His cough escalated to the point where he struggled to breathe and would get red in the face. Time to start the next level of meds.

This is the crazy kind of relief that only an asthma parent can really understand. I always feel a bit relieved when it’s time to move him up to the Albuterol treatments. Crazy right? But I know that if that doesn’t help him in a few days, we’ll be off to the doctor to get him the high-dose steroids that will quickly knock out the cough. I also like the Drunk Squirrel version of hyper-boy much better than the Angry Bull version of hyper-boy. But with either medicine, he struggles to sleep. Or should I say, we struggle to sleep?

Eventually, October comes, and Sweet Boy starts to feel better. We put the medication back in the cupboard and we both get some much-needed rest. I try to play catch up at work and give my all to those sweet kiddos who missed their music day. I feel like the teacher who flakes out every September, but I know I’m really the mom of a boy who needs me every September.

Photo by Andreanna Moya Photography

September 17, 2017October 17, 2017

#16- Just Play in your Room Until 6

My kids get up early. Because of my commute to work, we leave the house at 6:45, so they are usually up by 5:30 or 6:00–if I’m lucky. During vacations and on weekends, we try to get the kids to let us sleep until 6:00. Sweet Boy knew his numbers pretty early and has always been able to play independently, so putting a digital clock in his room was all that took. He would play with his toys unless there was a problem.

Girlie is a different child. Not better, not worse, just different. A few weeks ago, I asked her to go play with her brother until 6. So she did. She grabbed my glasses and played – in the bathroom. She played hide and seek with those glasses. She also reorganized my towels all over the floor. She played climb and discover to learn about Daddy’s razor (she didn’t touch the blade, Thank God). She learned about cylinders as she unraveled all the toilet paper. She had a great time playing, learning and discovering until six.

The Search

I was really mad about the mess, but my biggest concern was my glasses. I’m blind as a bat without those glasses, and of course, all of this went down the week my eye doctor was closed for vacation. My husband searched for a few minutes and handed me a pair he found under the sink. I couldn’t see very well, so I was sure they were an old pair of glasses.

We searched for a good 10 minutes. My husband calmly and methodically looked in each room, while I ran from room to room tossing towels, pillows, stuffed animals, anything that was in the way of me finding those glasses. My husband calmly told the children to stay in one room while he looked in another. I was screaming, “For crying out loud, where did you put those glasses?!?!?! (She still says that phrase to her toys on difficult days. That’s why I don’t swear in front of that one).

I finally stopped for a second to think. I looked in the mirror and pulled up a photo on my phone. In that moment of shame, I realized that I was wearing my glasses the whole time and the reason I couldn’t see was due to them being covered with tiny fingerprints. I hung my head low and softly said, “Honey. You were right. These are my glasses.”

My husband sent me downstairs to cool down and have some coffee while he cleaned up the bathroom and life went on. I have to say, this was one of his REALLY good days.

Not one of my finest Old Mom moments. But definitely one of our family’s funniest stories.

Photo by serenejournal

September 16, 2017September 16, 2017

#12- My Monkey Girl

My Girlie is quite curious. And adventurous. And fearless. A “fun” combination for an already anxious mother. She was walking one week and climbing the next. I’ll share with you a few of our adventures.

At her first birthday party, she impressed our families by climbing the 5-foot rock wall on our playscape. All the grandmothers and aunts were ready to run to catch her and yelling for me to watch her while all the uncles were saying how cool Girlie was and debating which side of the family she gets it from.

She loved the stairs–even after falling down six of them followed by a few hours of “special mommy time” at the ER. After we got the gate up, she would stand there and wait for us to let her try again. “Don’t carry me!” She would say. Miss Independent, indeed.

The stove. Another of her favorites. One day I went upstairs to get dressed and came back downstairs to find her inside the oven. Yes. Inside the oven. Thank goodness it was a cereal day for breakfast. Another day I left some pizza on top of the stove and she stood on top of the broiler drawer to get another piece. It was good pizza.

By the end of the toddler summer, she was climbing to the top of the dome of monkey bars. My mom just watched her with her jaw dropped. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like her.” Those first six months after she started walking were pretty wild. She never got seriously hurt, but not for lack of trying.

The Club

Some of my work friends had a club. The second daughter club. It seems that when you have a son first and a daughter second, the girl has a tendency to be fearless in one way or another. They feel the drive to keep up with their older brothers and don’t want to be told that they are too little to try something. Some of the girls were dramatic, others were talkers. Some had an artistic flair in their adventures. Mine was the climber. My little monkey girl.

My poor boy. That summer was really hard on me, but I think it was even harder on him. I keep the kids home with me during the summer– one of the nice parts of being a teacher. Sweet boy was away from his friends, and old enough to realize it. Meanwhile, mommy could not take her eyes off of his little sister. You never knew when simply checking Facebook or the Amazon Deal of the Day could lead to a trip to the ER. Sweet boy was not getting the attention he needed, and he was not very happy that summer. His sad little face broke my heart. And some days, his frustrated antics broke my patience.

Like everything else, it was a phase that passed, although Girlie is still curious, adventurous and fearless. I think that was the biggest lesson of that summer. Each phase will pass. It may seem incredibly intense at the moment, but it will pass and a new phase will begin.

September 14, 2017September 22, 2017

#14- Be Good to Yourself

The summer after Girlie turned one, I went for my physical. My doctor is a kind, but pushy older woman who switched from OB/GYN to family practice. When I went in and she saw my labs and my face, she let me have it. I had been neglecting self-care.

Four years of being pregnant and breastfeeding had taken its toll on my body and at 40 it’s much harder to recover. I had multiple vitamin deficiencies and my anxiety was clearly out of control. She got me on the right supplements and we had a long talk about how hard motherhood is. It’s emotional, exhausting and demanding. Then put together a sick boy, an energetic and adventurous little girl, a husband who works 60-80 hours a week and a 40 year old body that is on a hormonal roller coaster without any fuel.

I needed to stop expecting myself to feel normal and start asking for more help. My husband stepped up as much as he could. We both just assumed I had been so tired because I didn’t get enough sleep. Neither of us realized how out of balance my body had become. He would take Sweet Boy to some of his family-style work outings so I could rest while Girlie napped. He helped pick up a little more around the house. We made it work so I could truly recover.

Finding Jen

I starting finding a few projects that would make me happy. I started painting the inside of our new house. My husband looked at me like I was nuts every time I enjoyed a newly finished room. But the calmness of our now buttery rooms made me feel so much better than the chaos of our rainbow rooms. (Seriously, mint green, mauve, lavender, yellow and aquamarine all on one floor.) I fixed up our gardens. I had never been a gardener, but we had them, and it made me feel better to learn something new and bring some beauty to our yard. (Always keep learning. It’s good for your soul.) It felt so good to bring some sense of order and beauty to the chaos that had been the previous three years. And it felt amazing to give myself the time to do something to make myself happy.

So moms, take care of yourselves. Listen to your body. Give yourself some personal time. Trust me. I spent three years giving my all to my kids and taking zero time for myself. I hit rock bottom physically and emotionally. But I’m on my way back. One flower, one painted room, one workout, one diary at a time.

September 12, 2017September 12, 2017

#11 – Baby Girl’s First Year was “The Blur”

The best way I can describe Girlie’s first year is “The Blur.” Between Sweet Boy‘s asthma and Girlie’s teething ear infections, there really was no time to be anything but a working mom. And I really didn’t feel like I was doing either part of it well.

Girlie had an ear infection on the weekend of my 40th birthday. My poor husband couldn’t do anything right. He offered to take the kids to day care so I could have some quiet time, and I snapped at him because it was half an hour out of his way. He offered to take the family to dinner and I told him I just wanted to stay home after five hours of sleep in the previous two nights.

At least I can say I was too tired to have any sort of 40ish mid-life crisis.

Mommy, Mommy, Mommy

Girlie was not easy when she wasn’t feeling well– still isn’t. She would only sit with me or her favorite day care teacher, and even that would only bring the crying down to a barely livable volume. If I left the room, everyone knew, including the neighbors. She got 16 teeth in eight months with an ear infection each time. She was really uncomfortable and really miserable for the first year. I think Girlie was about 18 months old before my husband felt like she didn’t hate him.

Sweet Boy’s asthma was really bad that year as well. He was on a three-tier preventative treatment program, but he still ended up at the pediatrician for steroids four times that winter. Poor kiddo was completely bonkers all winter. All that medicine left him completely unable to handle his emotions–something that is pretty difficult for a healthy 3-year-old.

It all became too much for me to handle. The doctor’s appointments, the weekly trips to the pharmacy, the exhaustion, the commuting, the non-stop crying, a husband with a very time-consuming job. I needed help, but there really wasn’t anywhere to turn.

Photo by quinn.anya