The Mommy Esquire Diaries

A good fit?

2011-10-12T12:41:00.000-04:00

It’s been a looong time since I’ve walked in somewhere and felt like I had the word “newbie” stamped across my forehead. But, last night, I walked into a box (a.k.a. a CrossFit gym), after asking the first person I saw, “Is this CrossFit?” because I was confused by the MMA octagon inside (apparently, they share space with a fighting school), received a chuckle and sat down on the first piece of furniture I saw. Completely intimidated.

First, let me mention that intimidation is not really in my vocabulary. On a daily basis, I’m in the company of judges, lawyers, nasty witnesses, defendants - -and it’s almost always in an adversarial arena. I argue for a living, so there is no room for fear, self-doubt or wimpiness. So, for me to be scared to start an exercise regime is kind of laughable. Unless, of course, you’re talking about CrossFit -- which, I am.

What I know about CrossFit has been gleaned from reading AndreAnna’s blog and FaceBook updates (the pictures of her CrossFit injuries are not really encouraging, but the pictures of her muscles are SUPER encouraging) and from my husband’s past several months of going. Now, my husband is athletic, has always worked out, is a runner and otherwise enjoys exercise. So, when he comes home every single time, after many months, from the box and I ask him how his workout was and his answer is “hard” every.single.time, that is seriously intimidating.

I had told a few people (who are not crossfitters) that I was thinking of starting CrossFit and they all looked at me like I was crazy. They told me I had no weight to lose, so why would I want to do it? Here’s the thing. I lost all the weight I was looking to lose when I began eating primal-style in July 2010 (again, thanks to AndreAnna, my younger sister-from-another-mister). But weight loss alone does not a hot body make. I was feeling pretty good about myself until this summer. Since I was buying size XS bathing suits, I thought I’d be really confident at the pool, but the truth was that I was only buying one piece and ones with skirts because I was so self-conscious about my thighs and stomach. You can still be thin and flabby at the same time.

I eat pretty well, so I don’t believe there’s much more I can do on the diet front that will change my appearance. Which means it’s time to start exercising. And, I don’t like to exercise. I haven’t had the motivation or discipline to keep at it at home, so it made sense to join somewhere. And, after seeing the results in AndreAnna and my husband, I know that if I put in the time and effort, CrossFit will work for me, too.

So, after only an EIGHT minute workout last night (the rest of the time was instructional), I was beyond gassed. My arms and legs are still feeling like jello today, which shows how far I have to go. However, I am ABSOLUTELY going back tonight! To quote a wise lady, “today is the first day of the rest of your fit body.”

Amen.

Take Two

2011-10-07T10:16:00.000-04:00

My dearest little Monkey,

You are two. TWO!!! As in, not a baby anymore. Not "the" baby in the house. In fact, there's very little that's babyish about you. To say that you have brought joy into our family would be a gross understatement. You haven't just brought joy, you ARE joy. There is an underlying sweetness in everything you do. So much so, that when you start throwing your newly-done temper tantrums, Daddy and I laugh because it's so unlike you.

Your favorite things in the world right now, besides your brother, are the iPhone, iPad and puzzles. You still love your milk (which we still heat up for you because you're the spoiled baby of the family), but that's one of the last remnants of your babyhood. You are Mr. Independent and can do more than I would have thought possible from a 2 year old. You try your very hardest to keep up with Bear and he thinks you are SO funny!

You wear a 3T shirt and 2T bottom - you're a very big boy. You still make me carry you up and down the stairs ("uppies") which is killing your mama's back. If you give Mommy a kiss, you must immediately give Daddy a kiss, you have no favorite.

Honey, there aren't enough words in the world to describe how loved you are and how you deserve every ounce of it. Please don't get to three too fast, my heart can't take it!

Your birthday cake, made with love by your Aunt

Love,

Mommy

And then he was five

2011-08-29T14:58:00.000-04:00

So, it appears that the only thing that can make me come back to this (poorly neglected) blog is my Bear’s birthday. Tomorrow, my son turns five. To say that it blows my mind that five years ago today I was in labor with my first-born son is an enormous understatement. The time went in a blink. Next week, Bear starts kindergarten. Tonight, he starts playing soccer. There are so many firsts right now, my mama heart can barely stand it. So, here we go:

Dear Bear,

Tomorrow, you are a WHOLE hand old. Or, as you keep saying, “a real big boy.” And, you are. You are so smart, so independent, so kind to your little brother and the funniest kid I ever know. I always tease Daddy that you’re just like him, but the truth is, you’re YOU. But, you have you’re Daddy’s ability to make me laugh, even when I’m trying to be serious.

You are the most rough-and-tumble boy I’ve ever met, but can be ridiculously sweet. You're going through a mommy-phase right now and I am clinging to it, as you've been all daddy's for the past 3 years. You don’t like anything that is even remotely “for girls.” You love superheroes and action shows. You love marshmallows and cheese puffs. You loved being in camp this summer, which gives me high hopes for how well you’ll do in kindergarten.

In honor of your 5th birthday, you had a Pirate Party. I chose the theme, but you went right along with it. Thanks to a hurricane that was due to hit our home on the day of your party, at the very last minute, we rescheduled it for 1 day earlier. The look on your face when you came down the stairs Saturday morning and saw the house all decorated for your party was worth the lost minutes of sleep for Mommy and Daddy Friday night.

Kids dressed up in bandannas, hats, eye patches, swords and then got tattooed.

You couldn’t stop telling me the next day, “I loved my pirate party. I love all my presents.” You may ask for an awful lot, but you are grateful for what you get.

The cutest pirate

Pirates attack Bear's Pop Pop

My sister always makes my boys' cakes. This year's pirate ship was the BEST.

Yesterday, we had a lazy day on the couch while everyone recuperated from the hurricane. I couldn’t help but squeeze you and ask, “Do you know how much I love you?” You said, “like something really big.” You sure know your mom! And then you said, “Mommy, I love you bigger than the highest number.” And my heart was full.

I love you, Bear. Happy birthday my big boy.

Life Lessons

2011-07-06T15:24:00.001-04:00

So, I’m learning some things about myself. Well, maybe not learning so much as recognizing.

For example, this job that I thought I wanted SO badly out of? Allows me to (1) not be billable (since I work on a contigency fee, I don’t have to charge my clients by sending them bills for the hours spent on their cases. In other words, no one knows exactly what I’m doing every minute of the day. If I was billable, that wouldn’t be the case); (2) leave by 5:15 every night to go get my kids out of daycare; (3) take vacation and NOT be bothered by anyone from my office; and (4) have an 8 minute commute which leaves me more time to work and gets me home quicker to my kids.

All of those intangibles are rating pretty highly when I see what’s out there (or, really WHERE) job-wise. Also, I realized that I can put my ego/pride/ambitions aside when it comes to being there for my family. A job that wouldn’t allow me to actually be home at a decent time because of requirements or commute is NOT a job I could consider taking.

Also, I am realizing how much I NEED to kiss my children both “goodbye” and “hello” at the beginning and end of every day. Bear is at a daycamp right now, which is closer to Hubby’s office. Which means Hubby has drop-off and pick-up duty for Bear, while I’m doing the same for Monkey who is in daycare directly across the street from our house. It is KILLING me that I won’t be picking Bear up from camp today. I want to hear how his day was, the second he’s done with it. Not after he’s been in the car for 15 minutes and has already told Hubby about it. When he gets in the door at home, it’s too late. He’s headed straight for the couch and his “mimi” which he stuffs in his mouth and zones out until dinner’s ready. I also hate not dropping him off in the morning.

I’m truly feeling more and more that, in a perfect world, I’d be home with my kids. Maybe not forever, but definitely for now. This is astonishing to me, because being a successful attorney has been my goal since I was 14 years old. I’ve always wanted to be a mother and never saw either choice as being mutually exclusive. I’m just feeling that I’m not accomplishing either job (and yes, I believe being a mommy IS a job) the way I’d like.

Unfortunately, staying home (or working from home or even part-time) is not an option for me. I appreciate all the things (and I don’t just mean tangible “things”, but experiences, security, peace of mind) that my salary brings to our family. And, those many years ago when I chose to go to law school, I pretty much gave up my option to stay home because of the six figure debt I incurred in doing so. I’ve been paying that loan down for 10 years now (gulp) and it’s STILL six figures! There are other factors at play, also, that makes staying at home impossible (inability to sell our house and get a smaller mortgage) not to mention lifestyle choices that are not impossible to change, but nice to have.

So, the goal is to make the situation I’ve got not only do-able, but desirable. I’m not yet sure how that’s going to happen, but it has to. Would you change anything if you could? Or, are you right where you want to be?

An Early Father's Day Post

2011-06-17T15:29:00.000-04:00

When you carry a baby inside your body for all those long, hot, mostly uncomfortable months...

When you go through the agony of delivery (no matter what method or how many drugs are utilized - there is no “easy” way for that baby to come out)...

When you nurse, nourish and sustain the very life of your sweet little babies...

...it’s hard not to think of them as “mine” when, in actuality, they are “ours.”

I have to remind myself (often) that Hubby hasn’t been a Daddy one day longer than I’ve been a Mommy. Meaning, I don’t know any more about this child-rearing ride we’re on than he does.

I have to remind myself that Hubby was once a little boy. Who grew up into a damn fine man. So, he has a little more context than I do (at times) as to what my little boys need. He had to get me used to bruises and bumps, dirt and “gross-out” humor.

So, honey, for all the days I haven’t given you enough credit - here it is. You are the father that our boys need. You are the person that they want to play with all day, every day. You are their buddy, their rock, their jungle gym and their hero. In their eyes, there is nothing you can’t do and there is no man who is taller, stronger or better than their Daddy.

And, they are right.

I love you for the man you are, but I love you even more for the father that you are. I never knew you could be so tender with our little boys while, at the same time, showing them what it means to be a true man. As lucky as I am to have you, they are luckier because you get to influence the people that they will become.

Happy Father’s Day, my love.

Universe, do with it what you will...

2011-06-08T17:01:00.002-04:00

There’s probably a name for the notion of putting your dreams, your heart’s desires, out there so that they may come to you. I’ve seen on t.v. (ok, on Oprah!) that some people create a wish board (or is it dream board?) where they put pictures of what they want -- nice house, children, money, whatever -- and by putting it out there, the universe delivers.

Now, I’m not about to get all artsy crafty and start cutting pictures out of magazines and put them on a piece of posterboard and hang it in my foyer. But, I do have this blog.

So, I’m putting it “out there.” Here.

I see myself in a new job. One where my skills are appreciated. One where I am able to be the wife, mother AND lawyer that I want to be. I see myself in a better place, both physically and mentally, than I am right now.

I have to believe that the change will happen. I have to trust that it will happen and that I’m doing what I can (and bless Hubby for doing all he can) to make it happen. I’m not waiting for anyone to hand me anything. I’m doing my best to go out and grab it.

But, if I can get a little luck, fate, karma, what-have-you, on my side, I certainly won’t turn it away.

What’s your take on “putting it out there?”

What's done is done

2011-06-03T15:57:00.001-04:00

I found out 2 days ago that I wasn’t being put up for partner.

Definitively.

Throughout the entire meeting I almost bit a hole in my tongue because I was NOT going to cry in front of my bosses. As you can imagine, it’s not easy to talk while biting your tongue and trying not to cry, so it was less of a conversation and more of me listening to “You’re not going to make partner this year. The reasons are [bullshit] blah, blah, blah. So, next year is your year!”

I am not a victim and hate feeling this way, but a huge part of me feels like a loser. I tried for something, I fought for myself and, in the end, I didn’t win. “Life’s not fair” apparently isn’t a lesson only for children.

On that note, I feel like I have no choice but to leave. I am praying that I can find something better, as I don’t want to jump ship just for the sake of jumping. It’s still a crappy job market, I have pretty specific salary demands and I must have time to spend with my family. There’s a reason I had no problem working 6 days a week for 4 years and crazy hours -- I was young and single. You just don’t do that when you’ve been practicing for as long as I have and you have children you want to get home to.

I’m sad. I’m angry. I’m SICK about how I’ve been treated.

I wish I could fast forward to the part where all of this happened for a good reason and I landed a WAY better job somewhere else. Because this part, sucks.

All Quiet on the Job Front

2011-05-26T10:51:00.001-04:00

There’s really nothing new to report. And yet, I’m reporting it. Anyway, my boss hasn’t sat down yet with the managing partner to discuss my nomination, so I’m no further along than I was the other day.

Except, I am further along mentally. I found out some more associates that are going to be put for partner who, in my estimation, are less-qualified, not the best attorneys and not even all that profitable. Given that information, I am now incredibly fired up at the fact that MY name should be on that list. And, not for the 2nd-class partnership track that I was willing to accept. Nope, I truly believe now that I should be up for the regular partnership track that all those other associates are getting on. The only difference between them and me is that they have a partner who is pushing for them. I’m hoping that mine will do the same, as he has now promised, and that it isn’t too late.

My jaw is killing me from my stress-induced teeth clenching. I typed up a “cheat sheet” of my accomplishments and abilities for my boss to use in his meeting with the managing partner. In doing so, I realize that I’ve been selling myself short for quite some time. I’ve allowed others to make me feel like I wasn’t working as hard (or not putting in as many hours) simply because I’m the only one in my whole department with small children and a working spouse. Now that I’ve had time to reflect on what I’ve done over the last 9 years I realize that having children has NOT held me back. No, I don’t stay at work until 7:00 every night and I rarely work on saturdays, but I work harder during my day to get it all done. I’m not doing less just because I make it home every night for (and to cook) dinner.

So, I’m ready, able and willing to fight for what I deserve. I just really do hope that it’s not too late.

How it's going down

2011-05-24T08:30:00.000-04:00

In light of what happened at work last Friday, I REALLY didn’t want to come into work on Monday. But, I’m a professional. And, my clients count on me to advocate on their behalf, not to sit at home pissed off at my bosses. So, into work I came, knowing that I would confront my boss.

Here’s a little thing to know about me. I HATE confrontation. I know I’m a trial attorney and I have absolutely no problem doing it for someone else. But, for me -- I hate it. Hubby and my friends used to laugh when they would imagine the two of us arguing (he’s a lawyer, too), but I always told them, Hubby wins. Because I won’t argue. I really hate arguing.

Regardless, I knew for my own sanity, I would have to say my piece to my boss. After 9 years at this firm and 7 of those as his associate, I thought it was appropriate for him to know how I felt about the situation.

So, with a pit in my stomach, I came into work and waited. I didn’t get an opportunity until around 11:45 to speak with him. The conversation was short and not what I expected. I’ll spare you the line-by-line, which I emailed to Hubby immediately after, like a transcript, but it essentially went down like this:

I told him I was SICK about the fact that I wasn’t put up for partner when we had just discussed this last December and now I’m being told it’s too late by the other partner in our group because those decisions were made back in January (even though the vote isn’t until June). So, my concern/frustration/hurt is coming from not knowing whether I was merely overlooked or whether you (my boss) has concerns about my abilities.

His response was that I was right, that it shouldn’t be too late and that he would go speak with the managing partner directly. To his credit, he did go to speak with the head of the firm, but he was out yesterday. My boss told me later that he would “definitely” meet up with him today and keep me posted.

So...we’ll see. In my mind it’s just as bad that I wasn’t put up because of negligence v. “them” thinking I don’t deserve to make it. In fact, I think it’s worse because it shows little to no regard for my career in a place where you can’t make it on your own. You need the support of your partner. I’m glad he’s going to step up now, but it may be too late.

Either way, I’ll keep you all posted...

This just in...

2011-05-20T14:29:00.001-04:00

I was just told, in a very casual way, that not only was I not going to be put up for Partner this year, but there are several other people who will be. Out of all those “other people” none have more seniority than me and some I have heard some VERY uncomplimentary things about. When the shock was written all over my face, the informant realized that, perhaps, it shouldn’t have been revealed so casually. She had no idea that I expected to be put up for partner this year. I don’t know why, as this is my NINTH year at this firm! (I was “eligible” at 7 years).

I can’t even put into words, accurately, how I feel right now. To a certain extent, I feel betrayed, overlooked, hurt, angry and like I have wasted a whole lot of precious time.

I wasn’t expecting this information today. I thought decisions weren’t made until June. Apparently, the vote occurs in June, but as far back as January the “campaigning” for who would be put up for partner began.

And, I had no idea.

And, my boss did not campaign for me.

I am working for a person who does not care to see me advance in any way whatsoever. Not out of malice. Not out of any ill-begotten sentiment towards me. Rather, it’s out of a lack of interest or lack of relevancy to his own life that has allowed him to overlook the fact that the only way for me to advance at this firm is with his help. Without a partner to advocate for me, there is no chance of being put up.

There are many things I like about my job: the commute is ideal (8 minutes from home); my bosses are very nice; I know what I’m doing (after several years of practice); and I’m not billable (I don’t have to keep track of my hours).

But, none of this stacks up to being unappreciated, unnoticed and unconsidered. The only form of recognition at my firm is to make partner. That’s it.

And, I didn’t make it.

Again.

On Being Mindful

2011-05-19T14:48:00.000-04:00

There are a lot of changes I’ve made to my life over the years. I didn’t eat red meat or pork for about 3 years (those days are done), I now don’t eat (often) wheat, grains, artificial sweeteners, processed foods. I try to buy products that are good for the environment, natural and don’t leave a big carbon footprint.

I often fail in these endeavors.

But, doing something, even if it is a small thing, has to be better than doing nothing, right? Once you start looking for ways, for example, to be more “green” you may realize that there are a million things you AREN’T doing and that can be very discouraging.

So, here are some things that I am proud of doing, that I do often and that I believe reflect my own mindfulness of the way I’d like to live:

- I use reusable bags at the grocery store
- I belong to a CSA, organic farm
- I make my own chicken broth from free range, organic chickens
- Hubby and I have completely given up cereal, oatmeal and any other kind of packaged breakfasts. I cook eggs and bacon or we make a smoothie every day.
- I buy all-natural cleaning supplies, including dishwasher tablets
- I’m growing my own herbs (parsley, basil and mint) and they’re coming along beautifully!
- I’m really trying to improve my photography by taking more pictures and have finally used my Photoshop Elements program after downloading an amazing tutorial.
- I give my kids vegetables at lunch and dinner
- I only buy grass-fed ground beef, organic chicken and nitrate-free, uncured bacon

Things I want to start doing:

- compost
- plant a vegetable garden (that will wait until next spring, but I may do some potted tomato plants now)
- make my own yogurt (WHY do I find this so intimidating?)
- ease the processed foods out of my kids’ diets (current faves are chicken nuggets, mac n’ cheese, tortellini, cereal bars and marshmallows)
- EXERCISE (currently, I don’t do a lick)
- buy a ½ or a ¼ grass-fed cow and have my freezer stocked

What are you doing that you are proud of? What would you like to be doing but haven’t started yet?

Memories -- Or Lack Thereof

2011-05-18T13:35:00.001-04:00

I don’t have a ton of childhood/teenaged/college-years memories. I know that seems like a weird thing to say, but it’s true. I don’t know if it’s because I only remember the really “big” events, like certain birthdays or family vacations, or if it’s because I’ve blocked stuff out. Not in the I-have -traumatic-memories-and-can-only-function-if-they-are-cut-off-in-my-brain kind of way, but just in the there-is-only-so-much-room-in-my-head-and-the-last-10-years-are-pretty-much-taking-up-all-the -space kind of way.

For example, one of my sorority sisters will start talking about some party we were at (15 years ago) and talk about funny things that happened and I have NO recollection. Not of the party, not of the specific funny things, not of the people she says was there. And, I don’t know why I can’t remember. While those memories aren’t particularly important to me, I can’t remember, or remember very well other things that I feel I should.

I was on a daily prescription drug for my migraines for over 2 years, that had some major side effects. I really wouldn’t be surprised if memory loss was one of those side effects. Or, I could just be a bad rememberer.

But, it bothers me. I don’t like having these gaping holes in my history. I don’t like not knowing if something was really the way I remember it (vaguely) or if it was something entirely else and my brain is just trying to fill in the blanks.

Are you a good rememberer?

The New Normal

2011-05-17T13:17:00.002-04:00

We’re on day 2 of the boys being at the dayhome across the street. So far, so good. Instead of getting a phone call telling me what went wrong during the day, I got a voicemail at 11:30 yesterday just to let me know that the boys were “doing beautifully” and that Monkey had eaten all his lunch and was already fast asleep for his nap. This morning at drop-off, Monkey fake cried for a little bit and the owner texted me a little later to tell me he stopped crying about 30 seconds after I left and he was happily playing.

So, I’m feeling good about this change.

It will all change again, come July 1st when Bear starts at daycamp, but that’s another change that he’s looking forward to. And it will change again when he starts kindergarten in the fall. Because, that’s the thing with kids -- it’s ALWAYS changing.

Last weekend, we drove 7 hours each way to watch my sister in law receive her Master’s degree. It’s the longest car trip we’ve ever taken with the boys and I was nervous about the drive, about staying in a townhouse with my other sister in law, my in laws and Hubby’s uncle. It was going to be cramped quarters and my kids are on nap and meal schedules, but they surprised me and did FANTASTIC. And, that’s including the 6 hours we spent on campus at graduation ceremonies.

Monday morning, Bear was looking through his backpack to see what I was sending with him to the dayhome. Bringing a lunch box and backpack are new for him, as everything was provided at his previous daycare. He saw that I had extra clothes and a few pairs of underwear. He pulled out the underwear and said he didn’t need them. I told him they were in case he had an accident and he, very insistently said, “I’m NOT going to have any accidents!” I told him I agreed, but that it was a school rule to have extra clothes. It made my heart swell with pride to hear him be so adamant and self-confident that there would be no accidents. And, knowing Bear, if he’s made up his mind not to have any, I think that’s the way it’s going to be.

I love my boys so much and just feel so incredibly blessed that they’re mine. Sometimes I wonder how it is that I got so freaking lucky.

The 2011 Mother's Weekend (not just a day) Recap

2011-05-09T14:23:00.001-04:00

I can’t remember if I blogged about it, but last year’s Mother’s Day was the PITS. So, this year, I took matters into my own hands (somewhat) and celebrated MD with my parents and sister’s family the day before so that I could have my own little family all to myself on Sunday. I cooked a lovely brunch and really enjoyed that time with my extended family.

I had grand plans of Hubby building me a raised garden bed so I could finally start my vegetable garden. But, I hadn’t really done enough research into size, what I would need, where it was going, what I would plant, etc., so that idea didn’t get off the ground. We did take a trip to a store and bought a couple of wooden planters and some herbs that I put on my back patio. So, I’m starting a little herb garden - just some basil, parsley and mint - to get things going. It’s a little late in the Spring to just be starting a veggie garden, but now I’m really committed to having one next year. I may plant a few other things in pots and see how that goes.

On Saturday - the brunch with my side of the family day - Hubby dropped Teddy off at the groomer’s. He walked back in the door with 3 bunches of flowers (peonies and tulips - my favorites!) AND had gotten my car washed! I told him my MD was complete, he needed to do nothing else.

Then came Sunday. I slept in -- yeah right!! We were up bright and early when I was given cards from Hubby and the kids and a beautiful new necklace. We went out for breakfast at a local diner (we do that often) and then went food shopping and to the garden store. The weather was beautiful and we spent most of the day outside. Hubby and I did some yard work while the kids were napping and when they woke up they ran through the sprinkler (brrrr) for a little while. Hubby grilled up some rib-eye steaks for dinner, which my only-eats-”kid”-food Bear tried and declared, “This is SUPER yummy!” I finished up the night watching some Real Housewives and felt very blessed and loved.

Of course, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Both my son and the dog had accidents yesterday. Equally gross, in my book. There were moments of disobedience. There were moments of exhaustion.

But, that’s motherhood. And, I’ll take those moments, so long as I can rest my head at night feeling blessed and loved. And, so lucky to have such wonderful boys to love back.

Evolution

2011-05-05T10:51:00.000-04:00

When I first started reading blogs, I was drawn to the “mommy” blogs. That’s not exactly earth-shattering as I was a first time mom to a newborn at the time. I “discovered” the blogging world while home on my maternity leave and became more and more entranced with each blog I read.

I noticed a dearth in blogs written by full-time working moms and that’s why I began my blog. Turns out, I don’t blog all that much about work (beyond my frustration at my inability to advance at my firm, which could be a thesis statement for “mommy tracking”). And, even though I have LOTS of interesting clients and experiences, because of attorney-client privilege, I’m loathe to share these stories even without listing names, dates or places. I am VERY careful about protecting my clients’ privacy.

My next area of interest in blogland extended into cooking blogs. I LOVE pictures of delicious foods that I would never attempt to make (I’m looking at you, Bakerella) and I love even more the step-by-step instructions food bloggers are now offering to encourage you to try their recipes. Some of “my” best dishes now come from food blogs instead of one of the many, many, many cookbooks I have sitting on my shelf.

Once I started reading and keeping up with several blogs, I began using my Google Reader (love it!). I created a “Food” folder and filed the food blogs in there, all the rest (mostly mom blogs and a few dad blogs- Hi SciFi Dad!) remained uncategorized.

Then, last July I went Primal and really started reading lots of blogs. I now needed recipes that don’t call for flour (unless it’s coconut flour or almond flour), sugar (natural sweeteners only, thank you very much) or low-fat/reduced fat anything (easily remediable - yay for heavy cream!). I needed to read the success stories of how people’s lives changed when they began eating primally. I really needed some encouragement when feeding small children on how to cut out the sugar and carb-based diet they were on (and still are on, my cavebabies are not yet primal).

As such, I have another folder, creatively labeled “Primal.” That folder now has the largest number of blogs in it. I’m 19 months in to having 2 children and 4 ½ years into working full-time with a child. I’m not saying, by any stretch, that I know it all or that I have parenting “down” but I’m finding the primal journey much more interesting these days than even the very things I blog about.

I cook a lot and yet, I’ve never offered a recipe on this blog. I don’t photograph my food - except for 2 nights ago when I took a picture of my “meat pie” and texted it to AndreAnna (her recipe, with some modifications). I don’t feel qualified to tell other people how or what to cook, even though I consider myself a good home cook. I am very interested in how people handle the work-children balance and yet, I don’t post a whole lot about that either.

I guess I find it funny that the things that interest ME are not really what I spend time blogging about. Which is why I’m always SHOCKED to see any comments on my posts because I can’t believe someone finds what I’m writing about even remotely interesting. Which begs the question(s): What “kind” of blogs do you like best and do you blog about the same topics you’re reading about?

Shhhh

2011-05-03T15:29:00.002-04:00

I am a person who NEEDS quiet. When I was a teenager, I used to lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, alone with my thoughts for hours. Sometimes I’d have music on, sometimes I wouldn’t. Even if my family was being noisy, I could tune it all out and just turn my thoughts over and over in my mind. I think that having the time and space to be self-reflective allowed me to really “know” myself long before a lot of my peers did.

Now, if I can grab 10 minutes of quiet in a day, that’s a win. And, even those few minutes are generally not quiet. If I can steal up to my bedroom alone - Hubby always understands when I say, “I need to be alone right now.” - I usually end up turning on the t.v. Or folding laundry. Or reading.

Rare are the times that I am alone.

Even rarer are the times that I’m alone with my thoughts.

Today at lunchtime, I ran off to a local mall for some sushi and quality time with my kindle. It was heavenly. No one needed me. I wasn’t problem-solving. I wasn’t multi-tasking or trying to be efficient. I was just...being.

I hope it doesn’t sound sad that I like to be alone. It’s probably because it’s such a rare commodity in my life that I treasure it so much. I crave time with my husband and my boys. But, every now and then, the chance to be still -- or to just “be” -- is awfully nice, too.

Done with the showers and ready for some flowers

2011-05-02T14:48:00.001-04:00

The storm clouds are rolling in as I type this, BUT, we enjoyed such beautiful weather this weekend. We were outside playing at the boys’ great-grandfather’s birthday party, at a farm and at a fair.

After months and months over agonizing about what to do about Bear’s daycare situation, we have finally made a decision. We will be pulling the boys out (after the required 2 weeks notice - they have my money, so 2 weeks it is!) and putting them in Bear’s old daycare. We’ve told Bear and while he has said that he will miss his friends, he also said that he’s “always in trouble” at his current daycare, which just breaks my heart.

I SO wanted it to work out at his current daycare. We pay through the nose for it and the facilities are beautiful. The boys are fed hot lunches (nutritious and delicious) every day. I don’t have to send diapers, wipes or anything for Monkey. They have a weekly music teacher come in and there is a “curriculum.”

But. But, for all those bells and whistles, my boy wasn’t happy. So, back to his one-room, crowded, noisy dayhome-across-the-street. Back to where his teacher loved him and he loved her. Back to where he can look and see our house (and Teddy in the window) when he plays outside. Back to where he was happy.

This momma has certainly learned her lesson.
He will only have about 6 weeks there before he goes off to daycamp. Even still, that is a long time for a little boy in a class where (I think) the teachers don’t like him. Or don’t understand him. Whatever the reason, that daycare is just NOT a good fit for my Bear.

I am worried about Monkey who HAS been perfectly happy at his current daycare. I’ve had no complaints about his teachers or his care. At this point, however, it’s a matter of principle. I’m not going to continue paying a daycare that I don’t think is doing right by one of my children. Also, he is getting ready to move into the toddler room (sniff, sniff) so he’d have to get used to new teachers anyway, so the timing is working out well.

Returning to the old daycare means me packing lunches and snacks again (this time for 2 children), sending in diapers and milk and wipes, dealing with it closing because the 1 teacher is sick, having to pick the kids up by 5:30. But, it also is giving me a peace of mind that I didn’t have at the current daycare. I know I won’t get a phone call almost every.single.day telling me, “Bear’s ok. BUT, he bumped/scratched/hit/banged his knee/arm/leg/head. He’s ok! We washed the area with soap and water and put ice on it.” I’m not kidding - this is every day. If he’s OK, DON’T call!!!!

Only time will tell how the transition goes for the boys. But, for now, I’m at peace with the decision. Bear is happy because he has said goodbye to several friends and is looking forward to the goodbye card his class will make for him. Monkey has no idea what’s going on, but I think he’ll be just fine. Both boys will miss their friends, but will make new ones. And, in Bear's case, reconnect with some old ones. I'm just looking forward to seeing some smiles at the end of the day, not tears.

"Exhibit A" or I hope I never need to re-read this

2011-04-22T11:07:00.000-04:00

Dear Bear and Monkey,

I feel the need to put this in writing because someday, I may need to see these words in black and white. You should be happy I’m doing this because I’m giving YOU the evidence you will (hopefully never) need should I become unreasonable.

Here’s the thing. I don’t ever, ever, ever want to be the source of your stress. Don’t get me wrong, if you break a rule, or do something that you know I will disapprove of (with good reason on my part) and you are stressed that I am going to be upset with you -- I can live with that. What I can’t and won’t live with is you getting a knot in your stomach when you see my number on your caller ID. Because you think I’m calling to criticize you or give you unwanted advice. I hope there never comes a time when you don’t want to talk to me.

Right now, it’s easy. You are 4 ½ years old and 1 ½ years old. Your “mistakes” if we can even call them that, are little ones. They are not life altering. In fact, it’s near impossible for either of you to do anything wrong in my eyes, as I am so head-over-heels enamored with you. I am well aware, however, that can change as you get older. Not the enamored part, just the consequences of your actions.

What won’t change is that I will always be your biggest fan (along with Daddy, of course). I will always support decisions that I know you are making for the right reasons. Even if I don’t agree with them. So long as your decisions aren’t harmful to you or anyone else, I will support them.

Truly, I don’t have your futures mapped out in my head. I don’t have professions, or even a list of “acceptable” professions, picked out. I don’t know where you will live or who you will love. I DO know that I want you to be happy. I will consider it my greatest achievement in life if I can raise children that are wise enough to know what will make them happy as adults and follow those paths.

Basically, don’t let your Momma stress you out. Because I love you. Today, on April 22, 2011, on the very day that you are reading this, all the days in between and every day after that. It’s that simple. So, in the unlikely event that I do stress you out -- let me know. Chances are, I didn’t mean to and I’d much rather work it out with you than have you slowly edge me out of your lives. I don’t want to be on the fringe. I love you.

Love,

Mommy

Pass Over

2011-04-20T14:52:00.002-04:00

There is probably no holiday, event or time I associate more with my grandfather than Passover. I am so grateful to have had so many Seders where he sat at the head of the table, reading Hebrew faster than I could keep up (and I was pretty quick when I was younger), re-telling the story of the Jews’ Exodus from Egypt.

He did not skip pages in the Hagaddah (the book that tells the story of Passover and contains the prayers for the Seder) and there was no shortening the Seder for the benefit of small children at the table. We dressed up for the occasion, my Nanny set the table with her best china, silverware (real silver) and Waterford crystal wine glasses. My cousin and I had wine long before legally being allowed to - if Manischewitz can really be called “wine”. For those of you that haven’t had the privilege, it really just tastes like grape juice although it IS alcoholic. We never partook of the required 4 glasses of wine, but always aspired to.

I miss the icy blue-eyed glare my Pop Pop would send to any errant person at the table. He expected silence and respect. For the most part, he got it. My Nanny would sometimes sneak some of the younger children food, as most of the Passover service took place before the meal was served. While it was the youngest child’s “job” to ask the 4 questions for Passover, for a very long time I was the only one who could read it in Hebrew so that task fell to me, despite being the 2nd oldest of 9 grandchildren at the table.

I remember dreading the first Passover Seder after my Pop Pop died. The whole family knew that no one could fill his shoes. My uncle made a valiant effort, but there were definitely parts of the service that were skipped and most of the Hebrew wasn’t read. Each year thereafter the service got shorter and shorter and there were less and less family members around the table. No one felt the pull to come back for the Seder when it was so different than it used to be.

Last night, I went to my parents’ house for a 2nd night Seder. I’m using the term “seder” loosely as we barely read from the Hagaddah at all. We read a few blessings, for the wine, for the food. We didn’t focus much on the meaning of the holiday -- which is thankfulness for Jews’ freedom and the hope that all people everywhere will one day be free. There were only 9 of us around the table and three of them are children.

While it was a lovely family dinner, it didn’t have the Passover-feel that I remember. It’s easy for others to say, “make your own traditions.” It’s much harder to actually start that. Someday, I would like to host Passover at my house, with me leading the service. I would lead it using my Pop Pop’s old Hagaddah. I know I would make him proud.

Having a Seder isn’t easy. It’s a lot of work to make the meal, to get everyone together and then to have your guests pay attention to a service while they’re stomachs are rumbling for food. But, being Jewish has never been easy. Next year, I am going to invite my extended family to MY home and have Passover the way I remember it.

Is your family successful at keeping traditions alive? Or have some traditions died off when the matriarch/patriarch of your family could no longer do it?

Re-Cap of the Good Stuff

2011-04-19T15:59:00.000-04:00

You know how when it rains it pours? Well, it seems that the same holds true for GOOD things too. I have spent the last 3 months missing Hubby, exhausted, cooped up from bad weather and generally in a funk.

Well, my friends, things have changed.

First off, we had some sunshine on Sunday. At the end of my street is a pen with 2 very old and tame horses. As a personal injury attorney, I used to think the owners were nuts for not posting ANY kind of warning or sign about not feeding the animals, or not climbing the fence or just generally BEWARE.

After observing these incredibly slow and gentle animals over the last 5 years or so, I realized that there was no need. If anything, the horse owners should probably post a sign to protect the horses, not the people who might want to touch or feed the horses.

People like Bear.

On Sunday I also interviewed a lovely lady (who came with a glowing recommendation) to clean my house. I’m sick and tired of never being satisfied about how clean it is (or isn’t). I have gone so far as to take off from work just to have time to clean it -- which is ridiculous! I hired her on the spot and she came back yesterday to clean.

I walked into my home, saw the gleaming hardwood floors (promptly kicked off my heels), breathed deeply and yelled, “YES!!!” My house smelled of cleaning products (the “green” kind) and looked amazing. My baseboards are washed, several of my windows are washed, the crib was pulled off the wall so it could be vacuumed under (that hasn’t happened since it was assembled 1 ½ years ago) and the house is CLEAN again!

I was so impressed I’m even able to put aside my neurosis about everything not being put back exactly where I left it. Because that means she MOVED things to clean behind them!

Also, yesterday was Tax Day, which means I get my Hubby back! He was home in time for my delicious Passover meal. Today he took off and I was kind enough to not call him, even once, OR leave a “honey do” list. He deserves some down time after the crazy hours he’s been putting in the office.

Tonight we’re headed to my parents’ house for Passover Seder. My sister, BIL and niece will be there. I’m really looking forward to some nice family time. I’m crossing my fingers that the kids behave enough so I can eat my dinner while it’s still hot.

Today, I’m definitely feeling blessed.

Bringing Hubby Back

2011-04-13T15:34:00.000-04:00

From the time Bear was 6 months to 1 year old, Hubby had to live in a different city than us during the week for his job. As a full-time working parent, this was not easy as I had to go to work and come home and handle all the kid and house stuff alone. Not to mention that Bear still wasn’t sleeping through the night, so it’s not like I was doing it well-rested. When his six month “tour” ended, I joked that he shouldn’t have done it because now I know I could be a single mom (not that I want to be) if I had to.

Fast forward to the present. Hubby is no longer at the previously-mentioned job, but he still works in the same industry. He gave up that particular job to work much closer to home and have a better home life. That being said, he has a 3 month long “busy season” every year. The mandatory requirements during busy season are 2 late nights during the week and working every Saturday. The closer it gets to the end of busy season, every night becomes a late night (out of necessity) and he ends up working 7 days a week.

The end is now in sight.

In a few more days, I will have Hubby back. Excuse me. Bear, Monkey and I will all have Hubby back. And we will all be happy for very selfish reasons. Bear and Monkey will be thrilled to see Hubby not just in the morning, but at dinner and for some playtime afterward. We’ll have full weekends together back.

And I will have my partner back. Not “partner” like my significant other. But my partner in parenting, in fun, in EVERYTHING.

Frankly, I’m exhausted. It’s a lot to go to work every day and be solely responsible for the kids every night. The end of the day is their worst time. I haven’t been able to do much cooking because there’s no one to watch the kids while I do it. I’ve had to food shop with 2 kids and no Hubby (we always do it together) every Saturday because I don’t want to waste precious family time on Sunday running errands. The other night, just as I was walking upstairs to put Monkey to bed, he threw up all over me. All over. And, there was no one to hand him off to so I could pull MY vomit-soaked clothes off and hop in the shower (it was all in my hair, ewww). Nope, I had to take care of the baby first, who now needed another bath even though he was previously ready for bed.

I know there are both moms and dads out there who do it all alone all day, every day. My hat is off to you, truly. And, even though I CAN do it all on my own, I’m so glad that it’s only 3 months out of the year that I have to. Because I don’t like it. My family definitely works best with Hubby around.

An Un-happy Day

2011-04-08T14:00:00.000-04:00

I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t going to write this post. I wasn’t going to be sitting at my desk, choking back tears. And yet, here we are.

I should be calling her today and hearing her deep-throated chuckle when I wish her a happy birthday. I should be planning a trip down to D.C. to celebrate the milestone of 35 years. I should be shopping for that perfect, snarky, semi-obnoxious t-shirt to send her in celebration.

Instead, I’m just wishing she were here.

I’m sharing memories with other friends who are also missing her.

There’s no sense to be made of it. There’s no platitude that will make me feel better. Nothing will change the fact that I wish my beautiful T was here to celebrate the day of her birth, instead of the constant reminder that she’s no longer here.

*I'm closing comments so you don't have that awkward moment of not knowing what to say. There are no words.

Putting it in Print

2011-04-06T11:06:00.001-04:00

I’ve been writing on this blog since January 4, 2008. I’ve posted pictures, chronicled the big events and the mundane ones. I haven’t yet decided if I’m keeping this blog, taking it in a different direction or starting over somewhere else.

The biggest reason I haven’t yet hit “delete” is that I don’t want to lose these memories. I look back at some of the pictures and stories and I would have COMPLETELY forgotten them, had I not blogged them. I have always wanted to make this blog into a book so I would have something concrete (like a journal), but now that I’ve started looking into doing it, I’m feeling overwhelmed.

First, what company to go with? There are a few out there that will link to your blog and insert it into your book. I would like one with some editing capabilities so I can move pictures around, if necessary and delete pages. I’ve looked at blurb.com and blog2print.com. If you have some experience with this, please share!

Second, what to include? I guess that all depends on who will be seeing this book. I certainly don’t want to have to lock it up in my safe because I blogged about how my parents are the WORST gift givers or how the holidays stress me out or how I am not loving my job right now. I want Bear and Monkey to be able to read about how I wrote about things they did, how I felt about them at very specific points in time, etc. But, again, I don’t think they also need to read about my sadness over losing my best friend or my miscarriage.

So, I’m thinking of printing a book that is just Bear and Monkey appropriate stuff. All of the pictures I’ve taken are of them and those are the stories I want to share. But, it will be leaving a whole lot out - all of my personal stuff about work, friendships, family.

Maybe down the road, I’ll go back and print out MY stuff. Which will not get put on the bookshelf, but somewhere private for me to pull out if I ever want to look back.

Have you done this? Do you have any suggestions? Should I go back and change the “Bear” and “Monkey” to their real names in the book or leave it as is? Would you print the whole thing or heavily edit?

Stay on Task!

2011-04-04T15:10:00.002-04:00

I’m always curious how other people’s homes operate. Do you have set tasks in your house? Meaning, it’s YOUR job to do the dishes, but it’s your spouse’s job to cook the meal? Or, does it rotate?

There are certain things in our house that are mostly me:

Cooking (always me)
Toilet bowl cleaning
Dusting (usually)
Bill paying (except for a few that I don’t want to see the amount on - such as, the cable bill)
Appointment-making
Birthday present buying/remembering/sending
Nail cutting (for the children, Hubby takes care of his own nails)

I would say that we split kitchen cleaning, laundry, child care and vacuuming pretty evenly.

Tasks that are mostly Hubby’s include:

Garbage/Recycling taking out
Sheet changing (I can’t do hospital corners, no matter how many times he shows me how!)
Light bulb/Battery changing
Toy assembly
Video game playing -- YES, I consider this a “task” as I’m not into video games. It’s his job to play
X-Box with Bear. Sometimes, I’ll play the Wii with him.
Getting the mail (I can’t be bothered to walk to the end of our not very long driveway to get it)

We just fell into a rhythm years ago with who does what. There are times we will “cover” each other’s tasks, but by and large, we don’t deviate. If I notice the garbage needs to be emptied, I won’t do it if Hubby’s home, but will ask him to take it out. And, he doesn’t (seem to) mind because there are other things that I do (like COOK) exclusively.

How does it work in your house? Any tasks you wish your significant other (or children) would take over for you? Is the division of your tasks as gender-obvious as ours?

Baby on the Brain

2011-04-01T14:03:00.002-04:00

The “plan” if you can call it that, was to decide if we would add a third child to our family when Monkey was two years old. Two days ago he turned 1 ½ and I can’t get the discussion out of my head as to whether or not our family wants/needs/should have another baby.

Here are the competing factors:

I turn 35 at the end of the year. I don’t think I would want to go past age 36 for having a baby. I don’t have any health issues (knock wood), it’s just my personal preference from an age, energy, health standpoint.

I have 2 healthy (knock more wood), beautiful boys. I am beyond grateful for this. WHY does it seem like I’m tempting fate to have a 3rd, healthy child?

Both Hubby and I come from a family of three kids (2 girls, 1 boy). I never thought I would have “only” 2 children. I always saw at least 3 in my future. Now that the future is here, it’s not like 2 kids don’t keep me plenty busy, sleepless, happy or broke. But, I still think there might be room for a third in the family.

I feel like it’s not just what Hubby and I want that’s at stake. Despite a difficult pregnancy, delivery and recovery with Bear, there was NEVER any doubt in my mind that we would have another child. That was our gift to Bear - a sibling. He is more than thrilled to have his brother and has adamantly stated that he wants no more kids in the family.

I’m worried that Monkey will get the least amount of attention. Since day 1, it’s been the “Bear Show” in our house. Monkey was such an easy, undemanding, happy baby that not much changed with his arrival. I already feel like he, generally, gets less of our attention than Bear (mostly because he’s pretty independent for a baby and isn’t upset by a lack of attention). I can’t see how that wouldn’t diminish even more with one more child and the same amount of time available for us to parent. I finally understand the middle-child syndrome thing (and, I’m a middle child!).

I really want another baby. I think there will always be a part of me that will miss never being pregnant again, never holding my newborn baby again, never nursing again. And, I think I will have that even if we have a 3rd baby. But, wanting a baby and wanting a child are two different things. I can’t give the baby back after it’s no longer a newborn - we’d be in it for life, obviously.

I worry that I would one day look at a third baby and think, “What were we thinking? We had it so good with two kids. This is too much.” I have NO doubt I would love and welcome another child. I worry that I am underestimating the disturbance in our lives another baby would cause and regret it, in some small way.

Having another baby is a HUGE decision. Ideally, I wouldn’t want to get pregnant for another 6 months or more, so it’s not like I have to make a decision today. But, it’s on my brain. A lot. It’s hard for me to picture my family’s life a year from now, without knowing if I’m going to be having another baby. One of my girlfriends told me that it’s hard to move on with your life when you don’t know if you’re done - and, that’s how I feel. Every night as I’m rocking Monkey before bedtime I wonder, is this my last baby?

Do you know if you’re done having kids? How do you know if you’re not? Are 3 kids much harder than 2?

Thank you very much!

2011-03-28T11:46:00.000-04:00

Every Sunday night, our country club has a “family night” dinner buffet. Once a month, one of those family nights is specially themed, with an activity for the kids (always REALLY well done by the staff). The schedule is always the same -- arrive, feed the children from the buffet, send them off to the supervised activity, parents eat in peace.

Lately, in a effort to become even more family friendly, our club has increased those special nights. Unfortunately, we had to leave the last two we attended because Monkey threw up at the table. Gross, I know. Especially for the other people sitting at the table with us. Not only did I feel bad for Monkey, but I felt bad for Bear who had to leave in the middle of whatever craft/activity was going on at the time.

Last night was make-your-own-pizza night. It was adorable and the pizzas, which were cooked while we were eating the buffet dinner, were delivered to our table in a take-out pizza box. Bear was VERY proud of his pepperoni/sausage pizza (that neither he nor I would eat, but Hubby said it was good!). This activity was unusual because it was the first thing he did, instead of eating dinner, which meant the kids were at the table while we were eating. Bear is generally difficult to keep sitting quietly and still once he’s finished with his dinner and, of course, I forgot to bring any kind of toys to occupy him.

All pictures taken on my iPhone - sorry for the quality!

With Monkey strapped in to his high chair and Bear already finished his meal, Hubby and I were eating our dinner. Bear had no activity left to disappear to and his little friends were still eating their dinners, so there was no one available for playing. He hopped out of his chair and, staying close to the table, was alternately playing by himself and talking to us. Hubby was feeding Monkey in between bites of his own dinner.

An elderly lady came over to our table. She looked warmly at my kids and said, “I just want to compliment you on how relaxed you both are, considering you have one baby at the table and a child here. I remember when we would bring the grandkids, we were frazzled trying to keep them entertained while we ate.”

I laughed and told her that Hubby and I were determined to have a good time. She replied that it looked like we were succeeding.

I really took her remarks as a high compliment. Admittedly, I expect a lot from Bear and he doesn’t always meet those expectations - which may at times, be a little high for a 4 ½ year old. Sometimes, right before going to these dinners, Hubby and I both get stressed out, anticipating how the kids are going to behave. No one can enjoy a dinner when their kids are misbehaving, refusing to sit or eat. Despite the “family night” theme and casual attire, it still is a country club, in a beautiful dining room and not everyone there has small children.

It’s no small comfort to me that at no time, have my children ever been the worst behaved. Even that night, once all the kids were finished eating, some kids began a game of tag. I shut down Bear’s participation immediately, as I don’t think it’s appropriate to run around a dining room. It was hard for him to abstain, while watching other kids (and older kids) chasing each other around. But he and a few other kids went back in the pizza-making room and continued on playing with the dough.

I’m so glad we’re at a point in our parenting where we can sit back, take a deep breath and relax enough to enjoy a dinner out. It was also really nice that someone else noticed. We’ve come a long way!

Rules of Etiquette

2011-03-23T15:38:00.000-04:00

When I was in 7th or 8th grade, I had to watch a film (remember actual film on reels?) on etiquette as part of my home economics class (do they still have home ec.?). I LOVED it. I’m not joking -- I loved that there were rules for behavior. I’ve always been very big on knowing what the rules are, which is why it was no surprise to anyone that I became a lawyer.

Naturally, I own an Emily Post book of Etiquette -- not the original, one that was re-written by her great-granddaughter in-law. I bought it when I was engaged and wanted to make sure invitations, seating arrangements, thank-you notes, etc., were all “right.” So, yes, I know which fork to use, how to properly word an envelope when one spouse is a doctor and one is a lawyer and other bits of etiquette that probably very few people care about.

That being said, I would like to update Ms. Post’s book with some timely “rules” of my own.

Here are the Mommy Esquire Rules of Etiquette:

Don’t talk on your cell phone in a public bathroom. Ever. Can’t it wait 2 minutes? Besides being unhygienic, I’m grossed out for the person on the other end of the call.

If you have coughed or sneezed in the past few hours and have not sanitized your hands, REFRAIN from shaking hands with others. I wish we could do away with handshaking altogether and just go to a bow or nod. Germs, ew.

If you are in a restaurant that has a children’s menu, between the hours of 5:00 - 6:30 p.m., it is poor manners to shoot mean looks at the frazzled couple next to you with 2 rambunctious children. Go somewhere more expensive or eat later, trust me, people with kids won’t be there.

Along with never asking a woman her age or weight, it is never acceptable to ask her “when are you due?” Even if she looks 9 months pregnant, it’s not worth the risk.

Don’t ever tell a woman she looks “tired.” Tired is code for “you look like shit.” Rude!

Do not send email forwards that threaten bad things if the recipient doesn't continue to pass them along. The 21st century version of the chain letter is JUST as annoying as its predecessor, yet even more prevalent, since it is not even the price of a stamp.

RSVP to children’s birthday parties, especially if they are at a party place. Always. There are minimums, people. And, a B-list might need to be invited if there aren’t enough people on the A-list. Have consideration for those B-listers. And for the people paying for the party.

Don’t text your congratulations or sympathies on big life events. It trivializes the event. Don’t want to make a telephone call? Send a card. Texting is NOT always appropriate.

Hold doors for those immediately behind you. But, not if you would have to wait for more than 3-5 seconds for them to come through the door. Unless you’re a paid doorman. Otherwise, it’s unnecessary.

What would make your list?

The Thoughts In My Head

2011-03-22T09:20:00.002-04:00

I have a long list of things to do. Time-sensitive things. Important (to some people) things. I am paid to do these things. I am paid to not only do them, but to do them well.

Sometimes, payment isn’t enough motivation to get a job done. Sometimes, feeling like you’re wanted, or needed, or important, or special is all the motivation necessary.

I am seriously lacking in motivation.

I need to get my ass in gear. I need to DO my job. I need to stop dawdling, stop dreaming, stop thinking “what if?” I’m a grown-up. There is no what-if, there is only what I’ve got. And, maybe, where I’m planning on going. No one is going to hand me the perfect life in a package. It’s mine to make. Mine to decide what MY perfection will look like. It likely won’t look like yours. Or even mine of a few years ago.

That’s the thing about perfection. Since it doesn’t exist, it isn’t stagnant. It isn’t stuck in one spot. Like me. Right now.

Whirlwind

2011-03-21T13:33:00.000-04:00

It was one of those weekends. The kind that’s filled with lots of stuff, none of which is bad on its own, some is even fun, but jam-packed into one weekend is just TOO MUCH.

Saturday - Hubby has to work Saturdays and is out of the house by 6:15 a.m. until around 4 or 5:00. That’s a long way of saying that on Saturdays, I’m on my own with the kids. Here’s how it went down.

8:00: rush out the door (with 2 dressed boys) to go to the bagel shop before going to an event that I had to help out with.
8:15 - 8:30: eat (the kids, not me) at bagel shop. Get adoring looks from all the elderly people there that early.

8:30 - 9:30: head over to the event that I was pretty much useless at since I showed up with 2 kids. I had them outside with me, ostensibly directing traffic (there wasn’t any) and then we high-tailed it out of there.

9:45: arrive at grocery store. Scream at Bear for running away in the store (he was looking for the stuffed tiger they hide. Kids get a prize for finding the stupid tiger that is now the bane of my shopping existence). Profusely thank the lovely woman who helped Bear “find” the tiger so we could leave.

10:30: go straight to toy store to purchase gift for birthday party. Am stressed about the gift because it’s for a 5 year old girl who doesn’t like pink or purple, loves superheroes and puzzles. Got her 3 superhero puzzles and some superhero figures (one was the Scarlet Witch). Was proud of Bear for not begging for everything in the store. Worried about my food sitting in the car.

11:00 - 12:00: got home. Unloaded children and car. Put away food. Make lunches. Watch Monkey scarf down lunch, watch Bear completely waste the PB&J he begged me to make. Put kids down for a nap.

12:30 - 1:30: enjoy relative peace and quiet while vacuuming and dusting the house during nap time. Wrapped gifts. Hear kids wake up WAY too quickly from naps.

1:30 - 3:00: kill time before we have to leave for birthday party. Have Bear make birthday card. Stop Monkey from playing in dog’s water and food bowls. Clean up the same mess 5 times. Start laundry, clean bathroom, blah, blah, blah......

3:00 - 4:00: drive to East Bumblef*ck for this birthday party. Hit a detour, so was 5 minutes late.

4:00 - 5:30: lost some hearing at gymnastics birthday party. Saw some old friends. Chased after Monkey who desperately wanted to participate, but was way too young. Listened to Bear yell, “Hey MOM! Watch ME!” fifty thousand times. Followed by, “Did you SEE that???”

5:30 - 6:20: drive home. Watch kids fall asleep in car. They sure are cute when they’re silent.

6:30: I make dinner, since neither of the kids ate the pizza at the party like they were supposed to. MIL shows up to babysit the kids. Remembered that I hadn’t showered. Crap.

6:45-7:15: shower, get ready and try to look reasonably hawt for dinner date with Hubby.

8:00 - 9:15: enjoy dinner at our Club with Hubby. Listen to acoustic guitarist, sip on a glass of wine, enjoy the adult time.

10:30: in bed to get a good night’s sleep. Hooray!!!

2:00: PSYCH! Monkey has other plans. Screaming, won’t go back to sleep. After an hour of being up with him, he comes to bed and sleeps ON me for the rest of the night.

--I won’t bore you with the details of Sunday, but suffice it to say, we had another birthday party, more shopping, dinner at home and two kids who didn’t nap well for the second day in a row. Followed by another night with Monkey not sleeping.

I’m exhausted. How was your weekend?

And yet...

2011-03-17T13:46:00.000-04:00

***I am beyond touched at all the kind comments I received on my last post. YOU all are the reason it’s so hard to hit “delete.” I still haven’t made a decision, but I will keep posting until I do.***

I grew up in a house that was perfect. Physically perfect, that is. There were no fingerprints anywhere, no one was permitted (guests included) to wear shoes in the house, dust dared not land on any surface, crumbs were cleaned up after dinner and the pots and pans were washed before we even sat down to eat.

Suffice it to say, my mother kept an immaculately clean house.

She didn’t do it alone. My job was the dusting - and I’m not talking about dry dusting over what was visible. I had to do light fixtures, blinds, surfaces I couldn’t reach from the floor. If it took me less than 2 hours, I was told I didn’t do a good job. There were times I couldn’t sleep at my friends’ houses because then I wouldn’t be around Saturday morning to help clean.

My brother was supposed to do the vaccuming, but after breaking a vacuum, he was absolved of that responsibility. My mother did the bathrooms and floors (which really weren’t dirty anyway, see the first paragraph). And, there you had it.

The secret to keeping a “perfect” house while working full-time and raising three children.

My take-away lesson from growing up that way was, I’d rather have a messier house with happier occupants. As a child, I had NO appreciation for how clean my home was. I just knew I wasn’t allowed to leave anything anywhere, my bed always had to be made, my room always had to be clean and it wasn’t worth having friends stay over because I had to constantly be picking up after them.

And yet...

I beat myself up for not having an immaculately clean house. For a few years, I had a cleaning lady, but I stopped that because I felt like she didn’t clean good enough. The state of my house is a constant source of stress for me because it never looks “perfect.” The highest compliment I’ve given my own home, in the last 2 years is “pretty good.”

But, why isn’t that good enough?

I have never walked into someone else’s home and thought any less or differently of them because of how clean or messy their house was. Ever. I don’t know why I think that others would do that to me.

And yet...

I feel like accepting the current and usual state of my home is giving up. Even though I never thought I was striving for my mother’s level of perfection. I don’t know why I can’t cut myself some slack. I work more than 40 hours a week (as does my husband) and am raising two children and a very large dog. But, I see the fingerprints on the sliding glass doors and the dust on the chandelier (that I can’t reach because it’s 2 stories up) and I really wouldn’t recommend eating off of my floors.

Having it all is impossible. And for me, it seems that having an immaculately clean house and happy children and my sanity is impossible.

And, as soon as I get my house clean enough for a new cleaning lady to come look at and give me a price, I’m getting some help!

Finding My Way

2011-03-15T10:43:00.003-04:00

When I first began this blog, I was in a very sad place. I was lonely, I was grieving and I needed an outlet. I started blogging in January of 2008. I had lost my best friend in the summer of 2007. I felt a need to put my thoughts “out there” wherever that was. I look back at some of my earliest posts and I’m surprised that, in most of them, there is no sense of my sadness from that time. Some of my posts are pretty funny - most are mundane, but they are little snapshots of what was going on in my life at that very moment.

Through this blog, I’ve met some awesome people. I’ve formed friendships - some that are online only and others that live and in person. Along the way, I lost some of my anonymity. Not just through the people I’ve met, but through ones that I’ve known for a while who read (or at least know about) this blog. I realized that I’ve been censoring myself. That I’ve been holding back more than I would if I was truly anonymous.

I like posting pictures of my kids. I think they’re adorable and love hearing that you think so, too. I like asking for (and receiving) advice when I need it. Sometimes just getting some support is the best thing - no one really likes to feel alone, right?

I feel like I’ve read the exact post I’m writing from a hundred different bloggers. Every blogger asks the questions: is it time to throw in the towel? Is it time to go in a different direction with this little piece of the interwebs? Am I just looking for comments? If not, why do I hit “publish”? Shouldn’t I just keep a journal?

And, that’s where my head is at. I’m thinking of deleting this site and keeping a journal on my computer. There will be no pressure to edit myself, but there will also be no comments from the outside. I’m not yet sure if that’s a good thing or not. It will be nice to be able to comment on other people’s blogs as myself, not as Robyn of momindisguise.

I’m not quite ready yet to hit “delete.” But, I’m getting there. Who knows, maybe I’ll be back with different kind of blog - either completely anonymous (as much as is possible these days) or completely open.

For now, thank you for reading. You have all meant the world to me.

What's Best?

2011-02-16T15:01:00.000-05:00

I would be lying if I said that every decision I make is made with my children’s VERY best interests at heart. If that were the case, I would probably never let Bear stay up 30 minutes past his bedtime and I would always make him finish his vegetables.

Sometimes, the decisions I make are made because they make my life easier, they keep the peace, I’m too tired to do the “right” thing or it’s just way more fun than the alternative. That being said, I want to make it clear that I certainly do NOT make decisions that are detrimental to my children’s well-being. At least, not on purpose.

I’m struggling right now with decisions that need to be made with respect to Bear’s child care and potty training issues. And, I’m well aware that no decision (i.e., status quo) IS, in fact, a decision.

I have always been sure that my working full time was what was best for my family. It’s the way I grew up and I never felt that my childhood was lacking for my mother working. In a two person income family, money isn’t as much of an issue as it might otherwise be. Truth be told, after 3 years of law school loans and a bar exam loan, I didn’t have all that much choice in whether or not I would work after kids. But, I never thought I wouldn’t want to work.

I still don’t think that I want to be home 24/7 with my kids. Does that sound horrible? In some ways, they are getting more from daycare than they would get from me. I’m not artsy-crafty, I don’t play instruments, I’m not an educator. They get all that at daycare. They get the benefit of my patience at the end of the day (mostly) because I missed them all day. On the weekends, when we’re together non-stop, my fuse is definitely shorter.

For a moment, however, let’s forget about what I want. Bear has repeatedly been telling me that he wants to be home. His behavior at school reflects that he doesn’t want to be there. All of this may be tied in with his potty issues (and aching stomach). It may not. This could all just be a 4 year old being melodramatic. Or not. See what I’m working with?

10 hours a day, 5 days a week is a lot of time to spend anywhere, let alone at daycare. For the past 4 years. I think it’s wearing on him. I am considering letting my parents have the boys one day a week (my parents would be over-the-moon excited to do it, that’s not the problem), but that raises its own complications - too numerous to get into. I’m considering asking the head of my firm if I can work from home 1 day a week (no one does this so it would be highly uncharted territory). I’m trying to figure out a way that Bear (and Monkey) can be in daycare less, while I can still have my job.

I don’t know if him being there less will help anything. But, I know I need to start trying SOMETHING to change this situation.

The Real Poop

2011-02-09T14:23:00.000-05:00

I have been going back and forth about whether or not to even write this post. As Bear gets older, I’m loathe to post anything that might embarrass him. In light of the fact that I have spent hours scouring the interwebs for any information that could help my family, I decided that the greater good outweighs any possible embarrassment that Bear might feel from my insignificant and fairly anonymous blog, many years from now.

So, here we go...

It’s been no secret that we have had a horrific time of getting Bear potty-trained. At one point, before he was 3 years old, he was 100% trained. No accidents, no issues. At 3 years and 1 month, Monkey was born. 3 months after that, we switched his daycare. It was no surprise to any of us that he regressed and began having accidents. (BTW, when I refer to “accidents” I mean number 2. Sorry. There’s no nice way to say “poop”).

More than one year later, he is still not fully potty-trained. With rewards and incentives, he could go for a certain period of time (anywhere from a week to a month) without an accident, or at least daily accidents. Then, there were instances where he would sit on the potty for some time, get up and poop his pants. There was never a fear of the potty and it didn’t seem to bother him in the least to sit around in dirty underwear.

It was beyond frustrating to have a child who was otherwise developmentally perfect in every way - but to have the potty issue always hanging over our heads. I never anticipated having to carry around extra pull-ups or underwear, plus a change of clothes for my 4 year old, every time I left the house.

I was CERTAIN the issue was behavioral. Bear is a strong-willed, smart kid who likes to be in control of every situation. I had always heard that the only thing a child can truly control is eating and pooping. I read the articles on “potty resistance” when a child just refuses to use the potty and there is no discernible fear or phobia. That sounded like my kid. We tried everything. Rewards, punishments, ignoring the entire situation. I would be surprised if there was something you’ve heard about that we didn’t try.

At his 4 year well-visit, I told the pediatrician about my concerns. He wagged his finger in Bear’s face and said, “Big boys put their poops in the potty. Stop pooping your pants.” And that was it. No examination, no telling me to follow up with him. Just the usual spiel I got about boys being late-bloomers and it’s not unusual (even though I didn’t know ONE other kid this age with this problem) for 4 year old boys to poop their pants.

At my wits end, I called a different pediatrician (I no longer liked or trusted the one I just wrote about, thanks to an incident with Monkey) and asked for a referral to a behavioral psychologist. He wouldn’t give me one. He said he wasn’t so sure that the problem wasn’t medical. He insisted on an examination. I went home, told Bear and miraculously, Bear didn’t have an accident for a week (confirming my suspicions) so I never made the appointment.

Hubby, Bear’s teachers and I have all noticed a link between Bear’s good behavior days and bad days. The days he doesn’t go in the potty or has an accident he tends to misbehave. The days he gets it all in tend to be his good days. Again, confirming my suspicions. At the end of my rope once more, I called the (good) pediatrician and set up an appointment.

Last Friday I took Bear in and talked to the doctor. He felt Bear’s stomach and asked lots of questions (he didn’t do anything invasive). He’s convinced that Bear is constipated and has been for so long he no longer can feel the sensation of having to “go.” He said that the problem likely started out as a behavior issue, but has now developed into a medical issue. We are spending the next 2 weeks “cleaning” Bear out. He’s on a laxative, eating fruits and drinking apricot juice, cutting back on dairy and bananas. And, sitting on the potty only 3 times a day, for 5 minutes at a time. He also suggested a high-fiber cereal in the morning, but Bear is pretty picky and I’m not sure that increasing his gluten levels is going to help anything. So, that’s the one piece of advice I’m not following. I think the laxative and fruits are enough.

So far, things are going pretty well. I’ve noticed a difference in Bear’s behavior about the potty in general. He understands that it’s the RULE to sit on the potty after every meal. This is not negotiable. He knows he will be allowed up after 5 minutes, so it isn’t a “you won’t get up until you go” proposition. He knows we’re not going to get upset about accidents - which I’m not, now that I don’t think they are on purpose and I know he can’t feel when he has to go. His behavior at school has been excellent this week. He has had some minor accidents, but promptly sat (with success) after them.

I’m trying to focus on the good points right now. I keep replaying in my head every time I got frustrated, lost patience or thought my child was openly defying me by pooping himself. I feel terrible that he likely has had a stomachache (not that he ever told me) for quite some time. The mommy-guilt is big on this one. But, guilt doesn’t do anyone any good.

I’m feeling good that we’re taking steps to fix this problem. I’m feeling confident that we will fix it and the kindergarten deadline doesn’t look quite so scary anymore. I hope that someone out there who may be in a similar situation will take a few minutes and call their pediatrician and not assume, Iike I did, that the problem is purely behavioral. I’m sure in some cases, it is. But, if it’s gone on for as long as ours has (over a year), it may have developed into something more.

I can’t wait for Bear to have the confidence and independence that comes along with being a big boy and not having any more accidents. I can’t wait for the day that we clear the pull-ups out of his cubby at school. I really can’t wait to buy him brand-new underwear (he loves superhero underwear) which we’ve stopped doing because they all get so gross from the accidents.

We go back to the doctor in less than 2 weeks. I’m feeling hopeful, which is a lot better than how I was feeling last week.

Skiing, Lounging and Spoiling

2011-02-08T15:42:00.000-05:00

We took Bear skiing for the first time, this past Sunday. We put him in a “ski school” program for half the day and (after a tearful goodbye), he loved it! I just think he looks adorable in his ski clothes.

On the way home he asked if we could go skiing again. Tomorrow. I told him that it was a school day and we would try to get back out one more time this winter. It’s hard to go, since someone has to watch Monkey, it’s a long car ride, it’s expensive and Hubby only has one day off a week right now.

I’m so glad we can give our kids these special experiences. My parents never took me skiing, or ice skating or did anything remotely sporty with me. We want to expose our kids to a variety of activities, in the hopes that they will find something they love and/or that we can all do as a family. That being said, I’m always wondering if we’re spoiling them. I’d much rather my kids have experiences than “things” but it still sets a certain expectation when you’re exposed to one great experience after another.

In 2 weeks, Bear will be going to the circus for the first time (thanks to my parents who are taking him). I’m hoping a kid can’t be spoiled by experiences because there’s just too much fun stuff out there, and we want to do as much as possible.

This last picture is proof that we can be lazy. We're very complicated people, I know.

Actually, 1 minute after taking this picture, Monkey was off the couch and tearing up the living room. So much for lazy!

Feeling Lost

2011-02-03T10:20:00.001-05:00

I’m hoping that writing this down will help lift some of the heaviness on my heart.

I am 100%, completely distraught about Bear’s daycare situation. Quick recap: Bear’s been in daycare since he was 4 months old. He started at a “big” daycare, I moved him at about 1 ½ years old to an in-home daycare, then moved him to a different “big” daycare after Monkey was born (where they go together), when Bear was 3 years old. Bear is now 4 ½ years old.

We’ve had “issues” with the current daycare since he started. We knew there would be a settling-in period. We knew it was vastly different than the in-home daycare he was previously at. On the “pro” side there is: a music teacher who comes in weekly; way more space than the in-home daycare; hot meals cooked and provided for lunch, plus 2 snacks; field trips; a weekly sports class (that we pay extra for); a curriculum; a beautiful playground; an indoor gym for bad weather.

The “con” side: a million policies we have to deal with; almost-daily phone calls interrupting my work day (“Bear’s ok, BUT he hit his head, banged his knee, scratched his arm, etc.); weekly show and tell BUT the kids can’t bring toys (what else do kids have? you can only bring in so many books!); a 2 hour nap time that he seems to have outgrown, but must lay quietly during.

And, the biggest “con” is his behavior. He was fully potty-trained before starting this school. Now, even at 4 ½ years old, he’s not. I’m CERTAIN this is a behavior issue (although I still need to get him to the pediatrician for an evaluation, just in case it’s not). He also acts out in ways at school that he has never done at home.

I am not blind and do not think that Bear behaves perfectly all the time. Nor, do I expect him to. But, the ways in which he’s acting out at school seem, to me, to be a reaction to something going on at school. I have no idea what and he’s not articulating it. I don’t think anyone’s hurting him or there’s any kind of abuse in ANY way going on. But, I just find it odd that his behavior is so different at home than at school. It used to be that he would only misbehave for us and was almost always good at school.

Some of this could be timing. We moved him to a new school when I came back from maternity leave. So, it could have been an adjustment period for having a new baby - but, I can’t believe that’s still the case almost 1 ½ years later. It could be his age, but I kind of doubt it. He’s not acting like the big boy we know him to be at home.

I’ve had endless discussions with his teachers. Nothing is changing and I don’t know what to do. Since the only reason I moved him out of the dayhome was because I didn’t think they could adequately care for newborn Monkey (and he’s now a toddler), I’m seriously considering moving him back. He starts kindergarten in the fall (although possibly not if we don’t clear up the potty and behavior situations) and I don’t want him to have to start somewhere totally new now and then again in 7 months.

I hate not knowing what to do. Last night, Hubby said that he wished there was a manual. It’s so frustrating to think that you could be “messing up” your own child even when you’re trying to make the best decisions you can. There’s no guarantee that moving him out of his current situation is going to change a thing. But, I think it’ll make me feel better to know he’s spending his day with a woman who loves him (and who he loved too) and that at least I’m trying to change the status quo. At this point, I’m more concerned about his social/emotional development than whether he’ll be able to read before he goes into kindergarten.

I just don’t know what to do.

Another First

2011-02-02T14:13:00.000-05:00

I knew it was inevitable.

At some point, sometime, my beloved son would turn on me. ME! His number one fan, his cuddle buddy, his “mom mom.”

I naively thought it wouldn’t happen until he was at least a tween.

Apparently, refusing to buy him a pair of scissors because of his poor behavior in Target warranted my first, “I hate you Mommy!” Complete with dagger-eyes and pouty bottom lip.

I always thought that those words would rip my heart right out.

In all honesty, it was too cute to get upset over.

WHEW! That’s like getting the first scratch on a new car out of the way.

One Best and More Worst

2011-02-01T15:58:00.001-05:00

The Best:

Hubby used to work in a City that took him at least 3 hours a day, roundtrip, to commute. At LEAST 3 hours. For the past 2 years, he’s been local and I love it. Other than him being able to come home for dinner most nights, the best thing is how we can meet up for lunch. The kids are in daycare, so it’s heavenly to be able to get out (without any additional arranging of childcare) for an hour and actually be able to talk. And eat. While the food is still hot. Without cutting it up for anyone. Or taking anyone to the bathroom. Or getting interrupted 5 million times. Or...you get the picture.

Our lunch dates are absolutely precious to me and it brightens my whole day to get to see him in the middle of it.

The Worst:

I haven’t talked to a very close friend in months. No particular reason, we just haven’t talked, emailed or otherwise caught up. This is not good. In fact, it’s the worst. I’m going to remedy the situation immediately. [update: as soon as I finished the next paragraph, I picked up the phone and called M. I feel much better now. She is the BEST and I can remove this from “the worst.”]

I HATE working out. Hate it. I like being fit and healthy. Hate working out. Hubby and I have been working out at home, at night, together. This makes it a little easier, except when I slack off (like last night) and lay in bed and watch my DVRed shows (Real Housewives of Anywhere) and drag him right down with me. Then, I have the guilt of my not working out, coupled with the guilt of encouraging (though silently) Hubby not working out.

The weather. I’m over it. I actually, usually, like the winter. But, when every single snow storm happens during the week, all it does is create chaos with getting to work. We’ve had no playing in the snow, no sledding, no snow men. By the time the weekend rolls around, the snow is icy and dirty. I’m DYING to go skiing and haven’t done so since before Bear was born.

Tax season. Hubby has 2 mandatory late nights and mandatory Saturdays until April 18th. This leaves us with ONE day a week for the family to be together. The next few Sundays we have a fundraiser to attend and a birthday party, so it won’t even be alone-family-time. I HATE tax season (but, not as much as Hubby).

Ok, I’m done complaining. My one thing in the “best” category actually trumps all of the items in the “worst” category. Clearly, I’ve got nothing to complain about. And, of course, my kids go in the “best” side. Mostly.

Monkey's sick day

2011-01-21T13:36:00.000-05:00

I was home yesterday (and most of this morning) with a sick Monkey. He was really sick this morning, but yesterday he still had enough energy to make it look like a hurricane ran through my house. Without Bear around to distract me, I had a few opportune photo ops.

With Monkey, however, you have to be quick. REALLY quick. And, when said moments were occurring, my good camera was downstairs. All I had handy was my iPhone. But, I’d rather have a grainy picture than none at all, so I’m so glad I snapped away. Here’s a little (censored) photographic evidence of our day together yesterday.

Monkey and Teddy looking out of Monkey's bedroom windows to the street below. Monkey was enjoying some naked time.

We call Monkey "Mr. Mischief" at home. I may change his name to "Hurricane" after yesterday. I left him playing in the hall for about 30 seconds. That was plenty of time for him to get into his clean, folded clothes.

This is his smile that prevents me from getting the least bit upset about anything he does. Yup, I'm wrapped around that chubby little finger.

He also got into a pile of pictures that are in our hallway, waiting for me to decide where to hang them. He's sitting in front of one of Hubby at about the same age (blocking out a cousin, also in the picture). Clearly, he is Hubby's mini-me.

He is so sick today, I couldn't even get one of those smiles out of him today. Which is why I called for reinforcements (a.k.a. Pop Pop) - just kidding, really I had to get back to work today.

Hoping for a more smiley day tomorrow...

Randomosity

2011-01-18T13:16:00.002-05:00

It is a dreary, nasty, rainy/sleety/icy disgusting day in my neck of the woods. The kind of day that BEGS you to stay home, wearing super-comfy clothes (or p.j.s), fuzzy socks, curl up on the couch with a good book and turn on the fireplace (mine is gas, just flip the switch!). Instead, I’m at work in my stiletto boots, skirt suit, shoveling left overs in my pie hole at my computer during lunch time.

Since the reality is very different than the fantasy, I’m in a daydreamy, distracted kind of mood. Things that are currently floating around my head are:

I’d really like to plan a little garden. It probably won’t happen this year, but it’s going to be on my radar over the next few, so I can do some research and make it happen in the near future. Instead, maybe I’ll grow a few pots of tomatoes and some herbs on my patio.

I need to finish the blanket I’m crocheting for my niece. It’s precious (as is she) and I thought it was going to be quick, but it’s a full-size (not baby-size) afghan, so it’s taking longer than I originally anticipated. I will post pictures of the finished product.

I need to over my fear of it getting lost in the mail and get my hard-drive mailed to Hubby’s friend in the Secret Service (he’s an expert in computer forensics) to see if he can recover the 3 years worth of photographs that I can’t access on it anymore.

Once I have access to my pictures again, I REALLY need to get them in prints and get my photo albums up to date. Bear’s stops at about 1 year and Monkey’s stops at 1 month. I’m waaaaaaay behind.

I wish I was craftier - in a make-it-yourself kind of way, not a scam-artist kind of way.

I’ve looked at it from every angle and I’m miserable at my job. It’s not a matter of changing my attitude. I am VERY thankful that I have a good job, health benefits and an insanely short commute, but, it’s not enough. I’m trying to be content where I am, since it’s unlikely that I can change this situation, but it’s no longer working.

What’s floating around in your head today?

What would you do?

2011-01-17T14:05:00.001-05:00

I have (often) complained that, due to my job, I don’t get enough time with my kids. The weekends fly by too fast and here we are, at Monday, again. Except today is MLK day and my office is closed. The boys’ daycare is open.

Maybe, for some of you, this would be a no-brainer. Another day home with the kids. Just what I’m always saying I want. Yipppeee!

But, it’s not that simple. Working around 50 hours a week (and, it will be more next week when I’m in trial), I only get a few hours a night during and 2 days on the weekend with my kids. Bear is in bed by 8:30, I’m usually in bed around 9:30, even if I’m in it to watch tv or read a book. On the weekends, we do everything together as a family so as to maximize the time we do have.

Which leaves me with no “me” time. I don’t care if it’s unpopular for a mother to recognize that she (I) needs “me” time. I do. I don’t need a lot of it. I don’t even need it to do something fun or relaxing. Sometimes, I just need some time to get some cleaning done. Or run to a store. Or, cook dinner. Or, to go on the computer to organize photos, pay bills, whatever. Things that I have to make the choice on the weekend to either not do, or ignore the kids while I do them.

So, on a day like today, where my office is closed and daycare is open, I have a choice.

I should also mention that the fact that my office is closed really only exempts secretaries and paralegals from working. Lawyers are still expected to show up. If I had no one to watch my kids, I wouldn’t think twice about not going in. But, that’s not the case.

With a looong list of things to do, both at work and at home, I chose to bring the kids to daycare. I hate that I feel guilty about it. I am going to pick them up about 3 hours earlier than a normal day. I did come to work and got some stuff done (more importantly, got seen by my boss - face time is very important in law firms). My plan is to pick the kids up, get home for some play time and in plenty of time for me to make dinner, without the usual weeknight rush.

Given the choice between having a day without kids (to get stuff done, or just to relax) and having another day with the kids -- what would you do?

Stacking the Deck

2011-01-13T11:47:00.001-05:00

If I had to characterize my childhood, I would say that it was “ok.” It wasn’t great, it wasn’t horrible, it was ok. There certainly were some incredibly great moments, as well as some incredibly horrible ones, but I think it all kind of evened out in the end.

The house I grew up in was not a particularly happy house. There was some laughter and playfulness, but there was also a lot of yelling and slammed doors. Dinner was always on the table at 5:30, I knew, without question, that my parents loved me and that I could count on my parents to be there for me. But, there wasn’t a whole lot of joy.

I wasn’t comfortable having friends over because I never knew if my parents were going to start fighting, start yelling at me, or if my friends might make a (gasp!) mess. My mother took cleanliness to the extreme and it was more work than fun to have friends over, since I was required to scrub the tub out with Ajax the minute they finished showering, had to change sheets as soon as we were out of bed, made sure shoes were kicked off the moment they entered the house, etc.

I grew up with friends who had the kinds of homes that the doors were always unlocked. Friends could come and go without having made previous plans. I saw their parents in their bathrobes, making coffee in the morning and it wasn’t awkward.

They had the kind of homes that I wanted to have when I had children. I’m sure, at the time, I idealized it. Now, I realize that, surely, their homes weren’t happy places at every moment of every day. But, they were, overall, happy homes.

I always wonder what my boys are going to remember. Or, how they will think of their home. Physically, it’s a beautiful house, built one year before Bear was born. The furniture isn’t very expensive, as Hubby and I decided long ago it was more important to have things that could break (accidentally) without us wanting to kill our kids. Comfort and practicality have definitely taken priority over decoration.

We don’t eat dinner together every night. I try to make it happen most nights, but it’s hard when the kids don’t always eat what we eat and when I can’t get the grown-up dinner on the table before 7:00. But, we’re all in the same room (think, open floor plan), and even if Bear is watching tv while we eat dinner, we can all see and talk to each other.

There are certain moments I know I’ll always remember and I wonder if it will be the same moments for my boys. Anytime “3 Little Birds” by Bob Marley is played on PBS Sprout, Hubby and I drop everything, each pick up a son, and dance around our living room singing, “Every little thing is gonna be all right.” Even Bear knows the words by now, as we’ve done this a billion times. There’s something about laughing, and singing, and dancing with your child in your arms that just makes your heart feel light.

For all of the rushing, stress and sometimes yelling (by both parents and children), I think my home has a lot of joy. I know it has a lot of laughter, silliness and fun. I know, without a doubt, it’s Bear’s favorite place to be.

But, I know these things as an adult. I hope that Hubby and I have stacked the deck with good times, so that my boys will have the “good stuff” at the forefront of their memory pile and not the messy, stressful, disorganized times. I know only time will tell, but in the meantime, my goal is to keep stacking that deck.

Portrait of a Monkey at 15 months

2010-12-30T11:18:00.000-05:00

Dear Monkey,

Today you are 15 months old. How that much time has passed by so quickly and, yet, how it feels like you have been in our family forever, is beyond me. I know a more traditional letter to you would be next month, when you are 1 1/2, but since the mood was striking me to do this today, this is when you're getting it.

You are JOY (yes, in capital letters) personified. Except for the moment you decide you are hungry, you are always laughing and smiling. Even when you're sick. Even when you're tired, or teething. Even when you cry - we can make you laugh. And, no one brings out that deep, beautiful belly laugh like your big brother. You think he's hysterical (he is) and the two of you have a very special relationship.

You've had your first haircut since the picture above was taken. I don't particularly like your haircut since you look more like a little boy than a baby, so I'm posting the above picture. You are not walking yet. Since your brother walked at 1 year old, this came as a bit of a surprise to us. You've been pulling yourself up forever now. In fact, you CAN walk. You're just choosing not to. Just this morning you took 4 steps to get to me, realized you were not holding on to anything, and promptly sat down on the floor. I think you just like being Mama's baby.

Speaking of Mama, you're FINALLY saying "Mama." Again and again and again. I've been waiting so long to hear it - even after 30 times in a row, it is still music to my ears. Other words in your repertoire include: Dada (of course, that was your first word), Ball, Stop (sounds like "dop" with the sign language hand smack), Head (while you pat your head), Up and Down. Of course, we think you're brilliant!

We only need to show you how to work a toy, or puzzle, or shape sorter one time and then you've got it all figured out. You keep yourself occupied with toys (hurray!) and love to roll the ball back and forth with anyone who will play with you. Your tricks include: hugging on command, showing us "how big" you are, showing us "touchdown!", patting your head and demonstrating up and down. Also, if you're on a lap, you are likely to grab hands, and start singing "row, row" until we do Row, Row, Row your Boat. You are also proficient in "Patty Cakes."

You still aren't consistently sleeping through the night. When you do, you wake up for the day anywhere between 5:00 - 5:30 a.m. That's a little early for your Mama, honey. Mama needs some more beauty sleep than that!

Despite me not getting enough sleep, I can honestly say, Monkey - you are perfection. You are the kind of baby people envision when they start dreaming about having babies. You are chubby, happy, love to eat (hence the chubby part), love to play and love your family with undying devotion.

Right back at you, little man.

Breathe In...Breathe Out...

2010-12-23T15:22:00.001-05:00

It is so hard to make the “magic” of the season happen when you’re cramming it in between the hours of 7:00 and 9:00 p.m., after working a full day, rushing home to feed and bathe kiddies and tucking them in at night. Let’s add one stomach bug (not mine), one cold (not mine) and another really bad cold (thankfully, not mine) to the mix and the crankiness factor for all in my house is increased ten-fold.

Last night, for example, after getting the kids home from daycare, I immediately turned back around to run out to a store to pick up Christmas candies. Why did I need candy at 6:00 at night? Because I had SEVEN teacher gifts to put together. Oh, and because I’m insane. Instead of just doing a gift card with a note, I had to buy each teacher a cute mug, fill it with candy, stick cash inside (my bank didn’t have gift cards) and then tie it all together with a ribbon. Oh, and fill out 7 gift tags from my kids.

Which means, I still haven’t gotten around to baking the gingerbread men Bear so desperately wants to make. We couldn’t do that any sooner because I had to go to 3 stores before I found a gingerbread man cookie cutter! I thought they would be ample this time of year. Apparently, I thought wrong. I haven’t even taken the gingerbread house making kit down from my pantry yet - I’m hoping Bear and I can get to it tomorrow, since we’re home from work and school. But, we have plans to go to my in-laws’ house, so who knows if we’ll get to it.

The presents are (mostly) wrapped. The cookies will (likely) get baked tonight, if I can stay awake to do it all. I don’t know when my house is going to get cleaned. I feel like I shouldn’t wake up to a dirty house Christmas morning. I’d love it if Santa could send some cleaning elves my way, but I won’t hold my breath. My in-laws will be at my house for presents sometime on Christmas morning and then we’ll be out for the rest of the day at other family’s house. The day after Christmas we have friends coming over, so of course I want my house clean for that.

I found myself thinking the other day, “Just get through this. The holidays are almost over.” And then I mentally bitch-slapped myself for having that thought.

I need to find the magic and hold on to it. I need to inhale and exhale. I need to feel the blessing of my beautiful family and all that we have to be thankful for. I need to stop running in circles and start spending time on the things that are really important.

I need to inhale and exhale.

They're calling my name

2010-12-22T13:45:00.000-05:00

I can’t stop thinking about the box of Godiva chocolates sitting behind my secretary’s desk. I want one REALLY badly.

But, this past summer, I adopted a “primal” style way of eating. No grains, no sugar, no processed foods. I lost an incredible amount of weight and have maintained that easily. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve snacked on cookies, candies and all the other holiday treats that have been hovering in my home and office.

Last night, I went to bed with a migraine. And woke up with one this morning.

I KNOW it’s the sugar. I haven’t had a migraine in a loooong time. I’ve also been feeling sluggish - again, from sugar. I know it.

When I first began the primal “diet” I gave up sugar cold-turkey. I felt sicker than I thought I could feel for a good (really bad, actually) five days. I SWORE to myself, “never again.” I would never let my body become so used to and dependent on sugar that I’d feel THAT crappy from eating healthy foods and no sugar.

Last month, for my birthday, it was very easy not to have any cake. I didn’t want any. My office staff knew not to waste their time or money by getting me one. They got me a fruit platter and I was perfectly content while they ate a birthday cake they got for themselves. For Hanukkah, I hosted my family’s party and, other than 2 latkes, didn’t eat one bite of the delicious beef bolognese over pasta that I made, the pigs in a blanket, or any other no-nos on the primal list. So, I’ve been successful in the recent past about making good decisions around holidays and celebrations.

I’m so disappointed in myself. I’ve more than slipped - this has been going on for weeks. Allowing myself a cookie here and a chocolate there has turned into me having 5 cookies instead of dinner the other night!

I can’t wait until the New Year to get back on my path. Eating healthy is not a resolution for me, it’s something I started months ago, have felt the benefits of and need to get back to. I’m posting this in the hopes that I will feel slightly more accountable than I’ve been and stop this slide into my old ways.

I should've googled Santa Claus!

2010-12-20T14:36:00.002-05:00

Celebrating Christmas is still relatively new to me. And, by “celebrating” I mean, putting up a tree, decorating, having somewhere to go on Christmas day, NOT eating Chinese food and seeing a movie on Christmas (yes, those stereotypes ARE true!) and staying up until all hours on Christmas Eve to make sure everything is perfect for the next morning. I don’t mean actually observing the holiday for its religious implications because, well, I’m Jewish.

Because I’m Jewish, I never believed in Santa Claus. I wasn’t bothered that Santa didn’t come to my house, I didn’t think Santa was real. I also wasn’t the kid to ruin it for all the other kids, so don’t be all, “How could you not believe in Santa?” When he doesn’t come to your house on Christmas Eve, it’s VERY easy not to believe! To this day, I have never sat on a Santa’s lap or taken a picture with Santa.

Now that I have kids of my own, however, the whole deal has changed. I LOVE Santa. I embrace Santa. And, being married to someone who celebrates Christmas (for real), there was never any question that Santa would be visiting our house every Christmas Eve.

That being said, I am without the background to properly educate my kids about Santa. Sure, I know the general gist of the jolly, fat guy. But, I wasn’t prepared for the insightful questions I was going to get this year. Oh, and ALWAYS when Hubby’s out of the house. He, who has much more experience than I, to answer such questions. For example,

Bear: Mommy, why don’t Santa and Mrs. Claus have any children?
Me: Well, they’re too busy making sure all the good children of the world get toys for Christmas. [high-fiving myself in my head for such a good answer!]
Bear: Well, they have the elves.
Me: Oh, yeah. They have the elves.
Bear: Where do the elves come from?
Me: Uhhhh....the North Pole?
Bear: No, they come from Mrs. Claus’ belly.
Me: All of the elves?
Bear: Yup. All of the elves.

See? Totally unprepared! I still don’t have a good answer for that, by the way.

I grew up believing that all the adults were lying to the children about Santa. Now that I’m one of “them” I actually don’t feel like it’s lying. I think that there are so few moments of innocence our children have these days - I don’t mind perpetuating one of them. Especially since the “Santa is watching” threat gets me nowhere with Bear!

I stopped Elf on a Shelf last year after Bear refused to believe that an elf doll could come to life and fly to the North Pole. I felt like I was shoving it down his throat and he was too smart to buy it, so I stopped. Since he does believe in Santa (and that every Santa he sees is the “real” Santa), I don’t feel like I’m doing anything wrong. Do you feel weird about the whole Santa thing?

I wish I could more eloquently say what is in my heart

2010-12-17T11:59:00.002-05:00

Ever get a picture in your head of how something should go? Even if the way you picture it is not fully based in reality? Let me be more specific. For whatever reason, I always pictured that when my little sister gave birth, I would be there. I have ALWAYS pictured that being the scenario. Not that she would be there with me when I gave birth - something that I have control over. But, that I would be in there with her when she gave birth - something that I have very little control over.

It’s probably because I am (almost) 6 years older than her and she’s always been my “baby.” Or, it’s that I can’t imagine her having such a huge life-event take place without me there.

This is not something we had ever discussed. She came to the hospital after both my boys were born (as Bear was at 1:00 am and Monkey was a scheduled c-section, so she came later that afternoon).

J’s due date was 12/30/10. It’s her first baby and she wasn’t particulary ginormous (like I was, both times) so I wasn’t very hopeful that she would go early. But, on 12/13/10, she called me to say, “I think I’m in labor.” Ah...early labor. You know, before the contractions take your breath away, so it leaves room to doubt if you’re even in labor? Good times.

Anyway, without my assistance (but, with my prayers and my worries), J labored all day and all night. The following morning, she called me to say she was 8 cm dilated and doing well. I told her I was running into work, signing my mail and then driving to her hospital. She told me not to hurry as it could still be awhile. I told her I didn’t care if I had to sit in that waiting room all day long, I couldn’t be an hour away from my baby sister while she was in labor and getting ready to deliver!

An hour later, I was by her bedside. She was 10 cm and getting ready to push. She was doing beautifully (albeit, in pain). Other then escorting our mother to the waiting room, I never left J’s side until she pushed out the most beautiful baby girl I’ve ever seen.

Despite my little fantasy, I truly never thought that I’d be there when my (first) niece entered this world. The most I had hoped for was to be in the waiting room so I could see her and my sister shortly after the birth. I never thought that J and her husband would allow me in on such an intimate, special moment. I will forever be grateful to the two of them that they let me be a part of their best day ever. I love my little niece more than they can know and hope that I can be the very best aunt to her.

There’s just something special about your baby sister’s baby. And something even more special about helping bring her into this world.

Calling all geeks (and I mean that in the nicest way possible)!

2010-12-08T15:12:00.000-05:00

So, HELP!!!!

My macbook started running really slow, so Hubby went out and got an external hard drive for my photos. He moved my entire iPhoto library over to the new hard drive (over 4,000 pictures) and everything seemed peachy keen.

Then, I was getting pictures from Thanksgiving off my camera - I found the library on the hard drive - and, all of a sudden, the hard drive disappeared. There was no icon on my desktop, the iPhoto library was nowhere to be found. No amount of shutting down and re-booting helped. Basically, the computer knows the driver is there, but the driver won’t “mount.” I ran a repair, but that didn't do anything. The computer suggested formatting the driver, but that means erasing everything that's on it.

To make a long (and boring) story short, I called tech support (read: India) for the product, did what they told me to (which is what was already in the manual, so, not much help there), answered their questions and they immediately told me to ship the driver back for a full refund. They referred me to a data recovery service - which they will NOT pay for - if I wanted my pictures back. Duh!

The long and short of it from the data recovery people is that it will cost a minimum of $900 for them to get my pictures. They told me that the first shot at recovery is the best shot. They have scared the living bajeebus out of me when I told them I was going to price-shop other services. Best Buy’s geek squad charges $59 - but, what if they aren’t very good and lose all my pictures? I've seen my local geek squad and they don't exactly inspire confidence (they all look about 15 years old and will NOT understand that losing 4 years of pictures of my kids is equivalent to losing a piece of my heart).

A lot of these pictures are backed up online, but I really have no way of knowing which ones I’d be losing. None of my home movies were backed up. I am NOT prepared to pay almost a grand to recover these photos. I don’t care one whit about the cost of the external hard drive (piece of crap, clearly) and not getting a refund if I let another company open it up. I’m already out THAT money, as far as I’m concerned.

I just want my pictures back. Does anyone know what to do? Should I trust Best Buy? Who should I call? I WANT MY PICTURES BACK!!!!

Thank you.

O Hannukkah, O Hannukkah

2010-12-06T15:31:00.000-05:00

Last night I had a Hanukkah party at my house. It was originally supposed to be at my mother’s house, with just my family and my sister and her husband. My parent’s place is pretty small and is on 3 levels (with no gates or child-proofing of any kind), so I have to be on constant Monkey-watch when we’re there. Also, my mother refuses to keep anything at her place (even down to bibs and spoons for Monkey), so I have to pack a TON every time we go there. Then, my aunt, who lives 2 hours away, invited us over the same weekend so she could give my boys their gifts. And, I saw my weekend slipping away. So, I offered to have the party at my house, including my aunt, uncle and a few cousins. You know, because I thought it would be easier.

In retrospect, nothing is easier than just showing up to someone else’s house, eating and leaving.

But, at least I got to make sure there would be food there that my kids (and I) would like and eat, I didn’t have to disrupt the nap schedule and I, hopefully, am creating memories in Bear’s mind about celebrating the holidays at home.

I don’t have any pictures because I find it absolutely impossible to take pictures AND hostess, especially with trying to keep an eye on each kid. Bear got his most-requested gift, which is a huge Transformer that takes 20 steps to turn into a car. He sat there, watching Hubby try to transform it into a car (WITH directions) for about 20 minutes. 5 minutes later, he asked for it to be turned back into a transformer. I’m so glad Bear has no expectation that I know how to do it! Yay gender sterotypes!

It was nice to have most of my family under one roof (mine) to celebrate. My sister is due with her first baby in 3 weeks (hooray!), so our family will be changing again (for the better, of course). My family loved my latkes and beef bolognese (that I didn’t eat because it’s served over pasta - I should’ve left some aside that I could have put over zucchini noodles or spaghetti squash). My mother brought a roast turkey and some sides - so it really wasn’t a lot of cooking for me, just a lot of cleaning in preparation (my mother’s allergic to my hypo-allergenic dog) and moving the food along, from appetizers, to main course, to dessert.

I was especially glad that my sister and BIL hung out after everyone left so we could do an immediate post-mortem about all the ridiculous things my aunt and mother said throughout the evening. What? Does that make us terrible daughters? Don’t answer that!

Do you feel like you don’t get a chance to really talk with your guests when you entertain? Or, am I doing something wrong?

It isn't yummy in his tummy

2010-12-03T10:02:00.001-05:00

There was a time when Bear would eat anything I put in front of him. I was so proud (and a little smug, if we’re being honest) because he wasn’t limited to “kid food.” He would eagerly scarf down whatever I gave him and ask for more. His highest compliment was, “You made it good, little silly.”

Then, he turned 2 ½ and the good times were over. For the most part, he strictly eats cereal bars, oatmeal, string cheese, chicken nuggets, pasta, macaroni & cheese, pizza and PB&J sandwiches. He does eat up his veggies of carrot sticks, broccoli, green beans and peas (no cheese or butter on anything).

On one hand, I’m thrilled that he willingly eats so many vegetables. On the other hand, I’m sick of giving him the same 3 things for dinner night after night, week after week. Some nights, I do draw a line in the sand and make him eat what the rest of us are eating (especially when I know he doesn’t hate it) - for example, meatballs with pasta (for him, not me). He doesn’t love it, but he’ll eat it. Sometimes, he’ll eat my chili (he loves the beans, not so much the meat). He won’t touch a hotdog, hamburger, isn’t into ketchup and french fries - which I should be happy about, but it makes feeding him when we’re out a little difficult.

What kills me is that I love to cook. I REALLY love to cook for my family. And one of my children would rather have anything out of the freezer than out of my oven. He NEVER tells me he likes what I’ve made and never asks for seconds of anything. He’s growing and thriving, so I’m not worried from a health standpoint (yet), and I know he eats a more varied diet at school where he gets a hot lunch every day, but, still...It is like a knife in the heart when he tells me, “You made it good, little silly” about his PB&J or his frozen chicken nuggets with microwave-steamed green beans!!! I DIDN’T MAKE THOSE, BEAR!!!

Is this a phase? Does this mean he’s a picky eater? (I think so). When I was a kid, I was very skinny and very small and could not have cared less about eating. I just wasn’t into it. Ever (well, until high school, at least). I never considered myself picky because I ate whatever my mother gave me. I loved her cooking. Now, I realize that was just a different kind of picky, but at least I was eating what the rest of the family ate.

I sooooo want Bear to want my cooking. I don’t expect him to eat anything too exotic or spicy. Is it too much to ask that he eats my meatloaf? Or quesadillas? Or stew? How do you deal with “food issues” with your kids?

Giveaway - WINNER!

2010-11-30T13:35:00.000-05:00

I forgot to videotape (is it still called that?) Bear choosing a name out of a hat, but that's how the randomly selected winner was chosen.

JEN - please email me your address and your preference for the green or blue iPhone 4 case.

Thanks for playing, everyone. I will have a few more giveaways here coming up - free stuff for the holidays, yay!

Conversations with my Bear

2010-11-23T16:01:00.002-05:00

Bear is at that fantastic age (or stage) where his verbal skills are only exceeded by his imagination, but he still messes up a few words or concepts here and there. For example, he thought elves are called “shelves” and is very, very, very worried about how Santa will climb out of our fireplace (because it’s a gas fireplace with glass doors that don’t open).

Here are some recent conversations.

Bear: Today in school we talked about what we are thankful for.
Me: What did you say?
Bear: That I’m thankful for my aunts and my uncles and my parents...
Me: [hand over heart, kvelling with pride]
Bear: to buy me presents.
Me: [open mouth, stunned]. Bear, you know that Thanksgiving is not a present holiday, right?
Bear: [open mouth, stunned]

Back in February, I was in a car accident with the kids in the car (we’re all ok). I was in the right turn lane at a stop sign, waiting to turn. A tractor trailer in the left turn lane made a right turn, right into my car. We had the following conversation this morning:

Bear: Mom Mom, you should wait behind trucks and let them go first.
Me: [knowing full well he’s thinking about our accident] That’s right, Bear, if it’s their turn to go.
Bear: No, Mommy, you should always wait. We don’t want to hit the truck.
Me: Bear! The truck hit Mommy! Mommy did not hit the truck!
Bear: Mommy, just wait behind the truck, ok?
Me: Ok.

Last night we were in the car, coming home from daycare. The radio was playing Eminem’s “Please Stand Up.” It was edited and I didn’t think Bear was paying attention to the lyrics, so I left it on.

Bear: Mommy, what’s this song about?
Me: Uhhhh...it’s about this guy who thinks he’s cool, so everyone wants to be like him.
Bear: No, I think it’s about standing up. Please stand up! Please stand up!
Me: Yes, you’re right.
Bear: I know. What’s his name?
Me: Well, his name is Eminem...
Bear: Like the CANDY?!!!
Me: Yup. But, he also is called Slim Shady.
Bear: ????
Me: [crap! I shouldn’t be teaching my kid about Slim Shady!]
Bear: Why is he cool?
Me: Because he’s a singer. Well, really he’s a rapper.
Bear: A rapper?
Me: [oy vey]

I recently got my hair cut and dyed a lot darker. I'm not even sure that I like it.

Bear: Your hair. It looks different.
Me: Do you like it?
Bear. It looks different.
Me: You don't like it?
Bear: [silence]

Tell me the cute things your little ones have been saying lately!

***Also, don't forget to enter my giveaway for a holiday-themed CandyShell iPhone 4 case. Contest closes tonight at midnight, Eastern time. There are very few entrants, so your chances of winning are high!

Decorating for the Holidays (a giveaway!)

2010-11-22T13:54:00.002-05:00

I have said it before and I’ll say it again, “I LOVE my iPhone.” And, as of this weekend, I am the proud new mother, I mean, owner of an iPhone 4. Can anyone say “video chat?” How about “retina display?” Holla!!!!

Ok, enough of my excitement over my new toy, I mean, phone, masked as obnoxiousness. I’ve had an iPhone for 2 years now and it has nary spent a day outside of its adorable Speck case. It was purple and pink and the only way Hubby and I could tell our phones apart. (his was NOT in a purple/pink CandyShell case). I have dropped my beloved iPhone many times, and that case kept it safe and sound.

This coming weekend I’ll be decorating my house for Hanukkah and Christmas. And, if everything down to my bathroom gets decorated, than does my beloved iPhone deserve any less?

The good folks at Speck are allowing me to do a giveaway (my first!) for a holiday-themed iPhone 4 CandyShell case!!! If you, or someone you know, is the proud parent of an iPhone 4, you should enter. Just leave a comment, telling me which of the left 2 designs you prefer (those are for the iPhone 4) and the winner will be randomly selected. Contest closes at 12:00 a.m. Tuesday, November 23rd.

Good luck!!!!

A picture is worth 1000 words...

2010-11-19T10:12:00.002-05:00

In addition to getting my holiday shopping done early, I'm trying to be on top of my holiday cards. Again, since Hanukkah is so early this year, I can't get away with mailing them out right before Christmas, or I will have missed half the people on my list.

So, in your honest opinion, doesn't this picture beat the one I could send of both my boys looking (deceivingly) angelic and happy?

Ready (or not?)

2010-11-18T15:15:00.001-05:00

It is not even Thanksgiving yet and I have the serious bulk of my holiday shopping done. Here is the “why” and “how” behind it.

(1) Hanukkah begins December 1st. As in, 13 days from now. (While looking that up, I saw that in 2013, Hanukkah starts on NOVEMBER 27th!!!! I didn’t cross-reference Thanksgiving on that one). Last year, I did not have a gift for each night for Bear (or Monkey, but he didn’t know what was going on) and I felt badly about it. Before you’re all, “But that’s 8 nights of gifts!!” be aware that in the family I grew up in (and most other Jewish kids I knew), Hanukkah gifts SUCK compared to Christmas gifts. Basically, it’s stuff your parents would have bought you anyway (except for maybe one big gift) and they wrapped it up. For example, I would get gloves one night. And a scarf the next. Yes, sucky. But, I didn’t even have THAT for Bear last year and I vowed to make a better effort this year.

(2) I don’t like to be rushed, I don’t want the toys that Bear really wants to be sold out and I’m not sure that I’m going to see much better deals than I’m seeing now.

(3) All purchasing has been done online. How easy is that? No, I do not pay shipping, so I feel that I’m saving money (or at the very least time), as I’m not driving all over the place to get these gifts.

(4) I really, really, really want to enjoy the holidays this year. All of them. Which I won’t if I’m stressed out about what to get everyone.

Now, my extended family’s gifts haven’t been bought yet, but I pretty much know what I’m getting everyone. I’m also taking a small risk in that Bear hasn’t prepared his list for “Santa” yet, so if something is on that list that I haven’t already gotten - OH, WELL!*

Am I insane? Or just insanely organized? Do you let Thanksgiving pass before giving the holidays a thought?

* I realize this post was all about Bear’s presents. Monkey will not be totally shafted, but while he’s still too young to talk or appreciate what he gets, he gets not a lot!

College Daze

2010-11-17T14:39:00.001-05:00

Instead of rushing out of work to go pick up my boys from daycare, tonight I’m going to be heading to my alma mater. I will be acting as a “judge” for the Civil Liberties class to help them prepare for the collegiate moot court competition. I’ve been doing this for years, as I live very close to my college and have stayed in touch with the head of my old department.

It’s always a little strange for me to step back onto campus. The campus, always under construction, barely resembles the one that I knew when I was there, some (gulp) 12+ years ago. It was beautiful then and it’s beautiful now, but it is an ever-changing landscape. The building I’ll be going to tonight didn’t exist when I was there and I had to look on a map to find it. Even still, the second I step foot on the grounds, I’m swept away in memories. Walking arm in arm with my sorority sisters, running late to class, flirting with my (now) Hubby...

Tonight, I will be looking into the eyes of some very nervous college students, as they attempt to “lawyer” in front of practicing lawyers. I don’t envy them that. I do envy, to a certain extent, their youth, the promise of what’s to come, their optimism and belief that the world is their oyster. Don’t take that to mean I am cynical or jaded - I don’t believe that I’m either one. But, I know how I felt when I was in their shoes and I know how I feel now. I know who I AM now. It’s different. It’s supposed to be different.

I will try to focus on their (hopefully) well-crafted arguments. I hope to make them better prepared for their competition with some insightful suggestions. I will be encouraging and complimentary. I will try SO hard not to let my mind wander back to my college days. They were happy, happy times. So many of which I shared with Hubby.

Before I get lost in my reveries, I need to get back to my quick review of the Commerce Clause and the Fourteenth Amendment. I have to show these kids that MY college education paid off, right?!

Was college the best four years of your life? What do you miss most?

All for naught

2010-11-15T16:13:00.001-05:00

Looks like I wasted my time agonizing over whether to tell my mom that my brother is driving across the country, to be minutes away from the family, without telling anyone because he couldn’t care less (or is it could care less?). I spoke to my mom yesterday and she said, “Your sister told me about your brother. I don’t want you keeping things from me. I’d rather know than not know.”

So, there you have it. And, despite what she says, I don’t think my mom would rather know, because even when my sister told her, she kept making excuses for my brother and didn’t understand the reality of the situation.

Moving on...

We had our second weekend in a row of pretty-bad-behavior from Bear. All week long, I look forward to the weekend - to two straight days with my family. We always plan something fun to do (and try not to over-plan the weekend) and spend nearly every minute together. It is SUCH a let-down when Bear’s behavior ruins the day/trip/fun thing. Sometimes I wonder if we’re too hard on him or our expectations are too high/unrealistic for a four-year-old and other times I wonder if we’re too lenient and that’s why he gets out of control.

I think it’s safe to assume that most of my parenting (and a lot of the bloggers I read, as well) is based on doing the opposite of what my parents did. Hubby and I have often spoken about how we don’t want our kids to feel the way we felt when we were little (talked down to, ignored, spanked, etc.). And yet, Hubby and I rarely talked back to our parents. We did what we were told (for the most part) and respected adult authority. We didn’t beg for “things” and knew that no meant “no!” We also have strong work ethics and turned out to be generally decent human beings. So, now I’m wondering, maybe my parents did it right. And I’m doing it wrong?

Please weigh in

2010-11-12T15:09:00.002-05:00

I need some advice - YOUR advice, dear readers.

In an effort to make this as simple as possible, I’m leaving out details. Details bog down the story.

My brother lives on the other side of the country. I almost never talk about him because he really plays no role in my life and has no interest (as far as I can tell) in my kids. He isn’t married and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a job. He’s an artist and has been trying to make a living off his art for years.

So, my mother has erected a fantasy world where my brother REALLY cares about everyone and just doesn’t pick up the phone or email anyone (ever), but really misses all of us and is maybe thinking about moving back to where we all live. Trust me, this is a fantasy (hers). She also brags that he is selling all these paintings and has all this great publicity. Suffice it to say, I know for a FACT that none of this is true. At the very least, any truth involved is a minute fraction of how great he tells her/she believes it to be. I will be the first to admit a small amount of bitterness that there is virtually no bragging about her daughters who both have great careers, great husbands and beautiful children (and one on the way). Probably because it goes without saying, but it still feels crappy.

Because he lives on the other side of the country, we see my brother maybe once a year. He recently visited due to an art show he was participating in around me. During his 2 week visit, where he stayed with my parents, I saw him once at temple for the holidays and once at my parents’ house. He didn’t call for Monkey’s first birthday (or send a card or gift, etc.) or acknowledge it while he was here, even though it was only a few days after he left.

I receive an e-newsletter that he sends to promote his artwork. It’s really the only way I even know he’s alive most of the time. Seriously. So, this newsletter states that he’s driving out to where we live, next week, for a 3 day art show he’s participating in.

Here’s where I need your advice.

Do I tell my parents? I’m torn. On one hand, he’s an adult and if I tell my mom, she will guilt/berate/rope him into seeing her, which he obviously doesn’t want to do, or he would’ve told her he was coming out here. On the other hand, this would perfectly illustrate my point that he could care less about his family and my mother should just back off.

Even though I’d like her to see my brother for who he really is and not who she wants him to be, I don’t want to hurt my mom. Which, of course this would. So, I also thought of telling her after the fact - so she can’t interfere with him being out here, but still she would know that he came out here with no intention of seeing my pregnant sister, us, or my kids. Again, that would probably lead to some hurt feelings on my mom’s part.

Part of me wants my mother to open her eyes already. Part of me understands that, when it comes to your children (even if they are almost 40), you will always love them and try to view them in the best light. My sister knows about this, too, as she got the newsletter.

So - what (if anything) should I do?

One more for today

2010-11-08T14:25:00.003-05:00

My boys' school picture. If I had known it was going to come out so cute, I would've picked out better outfits! Seriously, school pictures have come a long way from a weird background and the awkward expression-ed time that I remember.

I have no idea how to title this one

2010-11-08T13:06:00.003-05:00

I wasn’t sure if the title should be, “You can’t make this stuff up” (like the tag), or “Because life isn’t hard enough” or “Doesn’t this stuff only happen on bad TV shows?”

Here’s the deal. I’m “on call” to start trial this week. Yes, I just finished another trial 2 weeks ago. This is kind of a LOT of trials in a short period of time. Also, I didn’t work on either of these cases before trial, so that makes for a lot of catching up and having to read every single piece of paper in the file.

But, just like last time, I’m putting on my big girl panties and gearing up for trial. That meant coming into my office this weekend (which I am loathe to do, since having children) and running various arguments and cross-examinations through my mind while trying to live life as usual.

I have no fear of getting up in the courtroom and speaking. In fact, I find it somewhat exciting - which is why I chose to be a litigator. Generally, having people in the courtroom watching me work doesn’t bother me. When I argued in front of my State’s Supreme Court, Hubby was in the gallery. Of course, if there’s anyone I want to impress, it’s him, and his being there didn’t make me any more nervous. I’ve had my boss (after he asked my permission) watch me a few times in court and he’s been so complimentary that I truly don’t mind him being there.

But, I really don’t need any added pressure to an already pressure-filled situation. In addition to doing my job by being fully prepared and trying the case the way I think it needs to be tried, I’m making sure my client is good with the way things are going down, I’m making sure the judge knows I respect his/her decisions even if I disagree with them, I’m juggling a bunch of balls in the air at once.

So, guess what I DIDN’T need?! I didn’t need to get a Facebook post on Saturday from a girl I went to high school with telling me that she would be at MY trial this week! Because she’s the adjuster (for the defense) on the case. It’s her job to sit in the courtroom throughout the whole trial to (1) observe the insurance company’s attorney; and (2) offer up some settlement money if things don’t look so good for the defendant.

Wait, I didn’t explain that right. This isn’t just “a girl” I went to high school with. This was THE girl. You know, the most popular girl in school? Adorable, smart, funny, etc. We were actually very good friends when we were both younger and new to the district and then merely friendly as the years went by. She never said an unkind word to me and I have nothing against her.

But, REALLY? I have to have someone from high school watch me do my job?! I’ll probably wake up the morning of trial with a big, fat zit on my nose to boot!

Missing my friends

2010-11-05T14:41:00.001-04:00

I’m careful about who I call my “friend.” Truly, I don’t throw the word around lightly and don’t consider someone a friend if I don’t trust them with my heart. Because of this, I’ve never had a ton of close friends. I’ve always had a lot of people that I’m friendly with, but, to me, that’s different than having lots of friends.

I am not friends with anyone that I’ve known since elementary school, or even high school. I really don’t have any childhood friends. I can count my closest friends on one hand and I’ve known them since college or law school.

At one time, my sorority sisters were my closest friends. I spent all of my social time with these girls and we all did the same thing - went to class, dated, partied, thought about the future, etc. Now that we’re “grown-up” many of our lives have taken different paths. I’m one of the only ones of my sorority sisters that continued my education past college. I’m also one of the only ones to still live in the same area. For those reasons, in part at least, I only have a couple of sisters left that I’m still close to.

In law school I again had the opportunity (and time) to forge some close friendships. My best friend and roommate, T and I had a ball. She was friends with everyone and we had a nice circle to hang out with. Law school was probably the last time I had a “circle” of friends and that was 10 years ago. As my long-time readers know, T passed away 3 years ago. Since that time, I’ve become even closer with another law school friend (who T was closer to than I was at the time), M. She is probably who I feel the closest to right now, which is something, considering we live a couple hundred miles apart and don’t even talk that often. There’s just something about a kindred spirit.

It’s tough making friends as an adult. I don’t have the time that I once did. I also don’t trust people as quickly and easily as I did when I was in my teens and early twenties. Anyone I meet now has their own past, their own baggage. It’s so different than when I bonded with my classmates - most of us had no past to speak of. We told each other everything. Now, there are certain boundaries I have, with respect to talking to others about my husband and children. I see the appeal of a childhood friend. Someone who knew what your house looked like, who your siblings are and how your parents treated you - WITHOUT you having to tell them. Someone who knew you before you were married and part of a couple. Someone who knew you before you were anyone's mommy. Someone who knew you when you were FUN.

I don’t know if my point was that, despite being a friendly person, it’s hard to make friends. I don’t know if my point was that I’m feeling the absence of close friends in my life. Certainly, my husband and my sister are my best friends. But, when it comes to girlfriends, it would be nice to have a couple of girls nearby to laugh with, cry with, lean on and just plain hang out with.

Am I romanticizing the childhood friend thing or do you have one (or more)?

Wishing my Bear would stay a cub.

2010-11-05T11:47:00.001-04:00

To an outsider (and by that, I mean anyone NOT living in my house), listening to Hubby and I talking to Bear could be very confusing.

“Whatever you do Bear, do NOT let me see you eat those vegetables!”

[giggle, giggle] “I’m eating them, Mommy. I’m going to get big and strong!”

“No! Stop eating them this instant! I don’t want you to get big and strong!”

“Too bad, Mommy. [giving the “thumbs up” to Hubby] I’m going to be big and strong like Daddy. Right, Daddy?”

Then I pout as all the veggies are eaten quicker than a vacuum could suck them up. (Yes, we reverse psychologize a lot. If Bear is going to do the opposite of what I say, I'm going to capitalize on it).

I often tell Bear, jokingly, that I wish he wouldn’t grow up. That he would just stay little. That I want him to always fit on my lap (which he barely does anymore, as his legs dangle almost as long as mine). That I want him to always want to cuddle me. That I want always to be able to pick him up. That he will always live with me and not go far and away.

And Bear always reminds me that he IS growing up. That he’s getting bigger every day (break my heart, why don’t ya?) and that he’s not a baby anymore. It’s all true and I have to remind myself that what lies ahead will be just as thrilling as it (right now) is scary. I can’t imagine NOT having small children and, lucky for me, it’s not as if they grow up overnight.

I was so happy to find the book, “If I Could Keep You Little.” It reassured me that, at least one other mother, is having the SAME conversations that I am about not wanting their child to grow up. It’s a really sweet book and beautifully illustrated that lets the parent know all the things he/she would be missing if their child stayed small. I actually got teary reading it to Bear at bedtime.

If you have the same running joke in your house, I recommend reading it to your kids. This one is definitely a keeper.

I was sent this book for free to review. I promised to review it honestly and, I am happy to report, that I HONESTLY love this book!

Trial (and tribulations) Update

2010-11-01T17:51:00.001-04:00

The last two weeks have not been kind. First, I had an awful stomach virus that lasted about a week until I felt human again. It was so bad that I missed a few days from work (I never miss consecutive days) and gave me an unnecessary reminder of what I felt like in my first trimester of pregnancy. I am no leaning towards no more children. Yes, it was that bad.

As soon as I was better from that, I got some upper respiratory thingie that made me feel as though I was swallowing knives. I was so sick that I didn’t even get into the office that weekend in order to prepare for my trial (that I found out about sooooo last minute). I felt that my time would be better spent in bed, recovering, than in a daze at my desk. In fact, on Sunday, the day before trial began, I had almost no voice and didn't know if it would return for court.

Last Monday I began my trial. The one good thing about being very under the weather at trial is that you can’t be nervous. I was too sick to be nervous. I really just thought about getting through each component of trial (lucky for me, court ended around 4:00 every day at which point I ran home and crawled into bed, earlier than if I had been at the office). Just get through jury selection, just get through opening arguments, just get through plaintiff’s direct examination, and so on.

It was my best trial yet. And, by best, I mean MY trial, how I did. My client didn’t fare so well and we lost the case. I have gone over in my head a million times if there is anything I could have done differently and I don’t think there was, that would have made a difference. Sometimes the evidence is what it is and the jury just doesn’t understand the legal aspects. The bottom line was, my client was very pleased with my representation, I was pleased with the job I had done and only wished that we had a better outcome.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. It’s very difficult having a job where you either win or lose. Because that makes you a winner or a LOSER. I do a lot of motion practice (where you ask the court to rule on certain things for your case) and I almost always win. That is very satisfying. My trial practice hasn’t gone that route and that is VERY discouraging.

I told my husband that I learned two important things with this trial. (1) I am a good trial attorney; and (2) I could never have another trial again and be perfectly happy.

Have I mentioned that I will likely start another trial next Monday? Here’s to hoping I stay healthy (I’d rather be nervous than sick) and not have to run out of the courtroom coughing (again).