Its been a long time since I rocked a baby to sleep. I will forever remember that feeling when they completely relax and drift off.
During the girls infancies, in the middle of the night when I hadn't showered in days and could no longer keep track of which side I was nursing, or if it had been one hour or three since the last feeding, it was the moment I lived for.
That is when I felt most "Mommy-ish." It was the hardest, most difficult part of those first weeks and months, but it's also the part that was mine, and mine alone.
That moment of relaxation and sleep was the reward .
Yesterday Ranger slipped on some water in the kitchen and did the classic banana peel fall. She is tough as nails but this really rattled her. So I picked her up and put her in my lap on the recliner. I patted her back and whispered to her.
After a few minutes I went to get up and return to whatever chore was occupying the afternoon, but I caught myself. Why give up this moment? So instead, I clicked the recliner back and nuzzled into her neck and remembered that late night feeling.
Ranger no longer fits on my lap like she used to. She a tall 6 year old and her arms and legs flop over the side of the chair. But she smells the same and she feels the same when she takes that breath, relaxes, and gives into sleep.
No feeling in the world matches that moment when comfort, love, and relaxation come together and your child falls asleep in your arms.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
The Sneaky Stink
First time parents often wonder how they will handle messy diapers.
There are special trash cans, sprays, bags, and inserts to help contain
the smell. The diaper industry has built itself up by claiming no leaks
and protection against blowouts. The companies prey upon parents' fear
of the gross and smelly diaper.
I'm here to tell you that there is another source of gross and smelly that you should fear.
The car seat.
It is a sneaky and sly smell, it builds over time. Those snacks you pass back during a long trip, or flowers your child picks for you- they all end up in the deepest darkest crevices of the car seat. They blend with a little bit of juice or water spilled and a hot summer day and.......Then suddenly you go to take the car seat out of the car (as I did today) and you are blown away by the smell wafting from it. You remove the cover, thinking it is just a few snack stains and the summer sun causing the smell. But oh, no, it is never that simple.
Upon removing the car seat cover today I was assaulted by an even stronger odor. My desire to throw away the car seat and just start over was only barely squashed by my pinny pinching ways. I realized this was not a quick job.
Pixie was already wearing her bathing suit (always ready for a last minute pool trip). She and I went outside armed with toothbrushes, scrub brushes, and soap. After spraying it down to get all the big chunks of debris we started scrubbing. I used the word "debris" in that last sentence not to scare you, but the reality is that we uncovered disgusting bits of food, rocks, beads, and unidentifiable fuzz and muck.
I had to resort to wooden skewers to scrape out and clean all the five thousand compartments of the plastic frame of the carseat. After a half our of excavating and cleaning, while being "helped" by Pixie, I gave up. I wouldn't call the carseat good-as-new but merely less-disgusting-than-before. Luckily, after 4 kids and numerous carseats my gross out level is disturbingly high.
I am grateful to the car seat designers that engineer such amazing protective contraptions for my brood, but if you need some ideas for future models:
-Collection tray at the bottom for all the random "bits"
-Non stick surface- then I could just rinse it off with a hose
-Maybe not the five thousand tiny crevices that are magnets for the aforementioned "bits"?
-Dishwasher safe - Ooooo, just take it apart and put the whole thing through a cycle. How cool would that be.
My goal is to start including pictures with my posts- aren't you glad I didn't start today?
I'm here to tell you that there is another source of gross and smelly that you should fear.
The car seat.
It is a sneaky and sly smell, it builds over time. Those snacks you pass back during a long trip, or flowers your child picks for you- they all end up in the deepest darkest crevices of the car seat. They blend with a little bit of juice or water spilled and a hot summer day and.......Then suddenly you go to take the car seat out of the car (as I did today) and you are blown away by the smell wafting from it. You remove the cover, thinking it is just a few snack stains and the summer sun causing the smell. But oh, no, it is never that simple.
Upon removing the car seat cover today I was assaulted by an even stronger odor. My desire to throw away the car seat and just start over was only barely squashed by my pinny pinching ways. I realized this was not a quick job.
Pixie was already wearing her bathing suit (always ready for a last minute pool trip). She and I went outside armed with toothbrushes, scrub brushes, and soap. After spraying it down to get all the big chunks of debris we started scrubbing. I used the word "debris" in that last sentence not to scare you, but the reality is that we uncovered disgusting bits of food, rocks, beads, and unidentifiable fuzz and muck.
I had to resort to wooden skewers to scrape out and clean all the five thousand compartments of the plastic frame of the carseat. After a half our of excavating and cleaning, while being "helped" by Pixie, I gave up. I wouldn't call the carseat good-as-new but merely less-disgusting-than-before. Luckily, after 4 kids and numerous carseats my gross out level is disturbingly high.
I am grateful to the car seat designers that engineer such amazing protective contraptions for my brood, but if you need some ideas for future models:
-Collection tray at the bottom for all the random "bits"
-Non stick surface- then I could just rinse it off with a hose
-Maybe not the five thousand tiny crevices that are magnets for the aforementioned "bits"?
-Dishwasher safe - Ooooo, just take it apart and put the whole thing through a cycle. How cool would that be.
My goal is to start including pictures with my posts- aren't you glad I didn't start today?
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Large Family Surprises
With four children, I guess we qualify as a "large family." I make that guess based on the comments of, "Wow, you must be busy." or "I could never handle that." or "You know what causes that right?" or just the general stares we sometimes get. I don't really consider us a large family, but that's because to me we are just us.
I'd venture to guess that all parents have a few surprises that caught them off guard about bringing a new little person into the house. Today, I'm going to share what has surprised me about having my "large family."
#1- They may have names, but their real names always start with "I mean...." So Ya-ya is "Ranger, Sparky, I mean Ya-ya" At one point I felt guilty about always calling them by the wrong name, but I got over it. I do the best I can. They are lucky when I don't say, "You, the tall one." or "Hey shorty".
#2- There are now 100 nails I'm in charge of. I cut fingernails and toenails all the time. It is really insane. I practically jumped for joy when Ya-ya learned to do it herself. I guess it is a sign of healthy kids, but their nails grow and grow. Sometimes I will look down to grab a hand in a parking lot and instead I get a claw. And nothing ruins a Saturday morning snuggle like your child stabbing you like a pin cushion.
#3- There is only so much planning you can do. I'm a stickler for being on time. And I know it takes 5-10 minutes to load the car, get buckled, and actually get on the road. So I plan for that. But what surprises me is that we can all be standing at the door with shoes on ready to walk out the door and suddenly..... someone is naked, or missing, or thowing up. I mean it. All of those have happened. I can plan and prepare till I turn blue, and something will come up and make life unpredictable.
#4- They are each their own people. When Ya-ya was born I read all the books and did everything "right." I then had the perfect child who took naps, cleaned up her toys, and obeyed her mom. I was a great parent. Then I had Sparky. I did all the same things, kept all the same routines, and had a child who didn't sleep and who is independent and fierce. I realized God served me a dose of humility. Ya-ya is who she is, not because of my "expert" parenting but because of who she is. And Sparky is a different person. Then we followed up with Ranger and Pixie, who are just as unique. They all physically favor each other, but hang around for 5 minutes and you'll quickly figure out the differences. The lesson for Tall One and I is to build on each girl's strengths and support their challenges.
#5- This too shall pass. The good and the bad. The sleepless nights of infancy (and beyond as is the case with Sparky) and the wonderful joy of first words. Everything that seems huge or tiny is in our life for such a short time. Just when Ya-ya and I are at each others throats about cleaning her room, I wake up one day and it is over. Granted, some other issue arrives, but at least it is different. Now, when Pixie is having a temper tantrum over wearing the same dress for days in a row, I remember that it is just a phase an it will end. She won't go to kindergarten wearing the same dress. The knowledge gives me peace to make it through the tough stuff and reminds me to slow down and remember to play dolls or Battleship and to listen when they talk.
#6- I will never, ever match up all the socks. This is not really a surprise. The surprise has been how many unmatched socks accumulate and how many of them I don't remember ever seeing before. Where did they come from?
I'd venture to guess that all parents have a few surprises that caught them off guard about bringing a new little person into the house. Today, I'm going to share what has surprised me about having my "large family."
#1- They may have names, but their real names always start with "I mean...." So Ya-ya is "Ranger, Sparky, I mean Ya-ya" At one point I felt guilty about always calling them by the wrong name, but I got over it. I do the best I can. They are lucky when I don't say, "You, the tall one." or "Hey shorty".
#2- There are now 100 nails I'm in charge of. I cut fingernails and toenails all the time. It is really insane. I practically jumped for joy when Ya-ya learned to do it herself. I guess it is a sign of healthy kids, but their nails grow and grow. Sometimes I will look down to grab a hand in a parking lot and instead I get a claw. And nothing ruins a Saturday morning snuggle like your child stabbing you like a pin cushion.
#3- There is only so much planning you can do. I'm a stickler for being on time. And I know it takes 5-10 minutes to load the car, get buckled, and actually get on the road. So I plan for that. But what surprises me is that we can all be standing at the door with shoes on ready to walk out the door and suddenly..... someone is naked, or missing, or thowing up. I mean it. All of those have happened. I can plan and prepare till I turn blue, and something will come up and make life unpredictable.
#4- They are each their own people. When Ya-ya was born I read all the books and did everything "right." I then had the perfect child who took naps, cleaned up her toys, and obeyed her mom. I was a great parent. Then I had Sparky. I did all the same things, kept all the same routines, and had a child who didn't sleep and who is independent and fierce. I realized God served me a dose of humility. Ya-ya is who she is, not because of my "expert" parenting but because of who she is. And Sparky is a different person. Then we followed up with Ranger and Pixie, who are just as unique. They all physically favor each other, but hang around for 5 minutes and you'll quickly figure out the differences. The lesson for Tall One and I is to build on each girl's strengths and support their challenges.
#5- This too shall pass. The good and the bad. The sleepless nights of infancy (and beyond as is the case with Sparky) and the wonderful joy of first words. Everything that seems huge or tiny is in our life for such a short time. Just when Ya-ya and I are at each others throats about cleaning her room, I wake up one day and it is over. Granted, some other issue arrives, but at least it is different. Now, when Pixie is having a temper tantrum over wearing the same dress for days in a row, I remember that it is just a phase an it will end. She won't go to kindergarten wearing the same dress. The knowledge gives me peace to make it through the tough stuff and reminds me to slow down and remember to play dolls or Battleship and to listen when they talk.
#6- I will never, ever match up all the socks. This is not really a surprise. The surprise has been how many unmatched socks accumulate and how many of them I don't remember ever seeing before. Where did they come from?
No Decisions Please
Last weekend I went away with 4 of my best friends for a Girls' Trip. We've done a similar trip for the last 9 years. After that many years we've really perfected it and have found the perfect ratios of sightseeing, sleeping, eating, drinking, with plenty of talking and laughing.
My very favorite aspect of the trips is that I refuse to make any decisions. As we begin to plan the trip, I share my schedule and preferred dates but beyond that, I shut my mouth. I will go anywhere and do anything as long as I don't have to decide on it.
My ordinary days are full of decisions.
Wake up early to exercise?
How long should I go?
Do I have time before the girls need to wake up?
Shower before or after they wake up?
What should I wear?
What to eat for breakfast?
Do I let them sleep or wake them up? What do we have going on today?
How should I structure the day? Do we have errands or appointments?
Do I let the Ya-ya and Sparky stay home if they don't want to come along?
Do I fight with Pixie about what she wants to wear? (Tthe same dress for 3 days)
Which store?
What is the best way to get there?
What to buy?
Does that cost too much?
If I adjust my budget, where do I take the money from?
Do I fight a battle with Pixie about walking alone or let it be? (Can you tell she's 3?)
Do we have time to do one more errand before we need to get home for lunch?
What will I fix for lunch?
And by that time it's what- only noon??
Making that many decisions is exhausting. Granted, most of them are not earth shattering or of any great meaning, but it is like being pecked to death by chickens.
So, the annual Girls' Trip is my chance to pass off all decisions to someone else. This trip we went to Philadelphia and I made no decisions. Well, I did decide what to pack- although I tried to have my friend Jennifer come over to pack for me. I will go to any tourist attraction or site, eat at any restaurant, and follow any schedule as long as I don't have to decide on it. This trip was even better because two of the nights we went to restaurants and had the chef's tasting menu so I didn't even have to decide on my meals. I love that the other 4 in the group will step up and plan a great trip. I am grateful that they make all the decisions.
It was bliss.
My very favorite aspect of the trips is that I refuse to make any decisions. As we begin to plan the trip, I share my schedule and preferred dates but beyond that, I shut my mouth. I will go anywhere and do anything as long as I don't have to decide on it.
My ordinary days are full of decisions.
Wake up early to exercise?
How long should I go?
Do I have time before the girls need to wake up?
Shower before or after they wake up?
What should I wear?
What to eat for breakfast?
Do I let them sleep or wake them up? What do we have going on today?
How should I structure the day? Do we have errands or appointments?
Do I let the Ya-ya and Sparky stay home if they don't want to come along?
Do I fight with Pixie about what she wants to wear? (Tthe same dress for 3 days)
Which store?
What is the best way to get there?
What to buy?
Does that cost too much?
If I adjust my budget, where do I take the money from?
Do I fight a battle with Pixie about walking alone or let it be? (Can you tell she's 3?)
Do we have time to do one more errand before we need to get home for lunch?
What will I fix for lunch?
And by that time it's what- only noon??
Making that many decisions is exhausting. Granted, most of them are not earth shattering or of any great meaning, but it is like being pecked to death by chickens.
So, the annual Girls' Trip is my chance to pass off all decisions to someone else. This trip we went to Philadelphia and I made no decisions. Well, I did decide what to pack- although I tried to have my friend Jennifer come over to pack for me. I will go to any tourist attraction or site, eat at any restaurant, and follow any schedule as long as I don't have to decide on it. This trip was even better because two of the nights we went to restaurants and had the chef's tasting menu so I didn't even have to decide on my meals. I love that the other 4 in the group will step up and plan a great trip. I am grateful that they make all the decisions.
It was bliss.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Scooter Ride
Last
night we went for a family walk around the block. Well, a partial
family walk. The older two stayed home so the Tall One, Ranger, Pixie and I
took the dogs out. The girls rode their scooters.
A few months ago I had taken to hiding Pixie's scooter because she was so terrible at it that a 100 yard walk took 30 minutes and always ended with me carrying a scooter (is there a comfortable way to do this? I always end up banging myself in the leg no matter how I carry it) and a crying 3 year old. Not fun.
But, last night I was in a good mood and decided that after hours of practice in the driveway we would attempt for her to scooter around the block. And Tall One was along to carry the scooter if it all fell apart. We rounded the first two corners with no problems as Tall One and I talked about how much better Pixie was on the scooter and watched Ranger perform tricks on hers. Then, right as we stop to talk to a neighbor there is a crash and a cry.
Somehow, standing still, Pixie had managed to fall and hit her eye. Our dear neighbor gets a bag of ice, but in the way 3year olds have, Pixie refuses to actually put the ice on her swelling eye. We’re talking about a cut on her eyebrow and abrasions under here eye and a black eye forming as we watch. We offer to carry her home but she wants to ride the scooter. I gotta say that my heart swelled a bit with pride.
That’s my girl- not stopped by busted eye. Mommy finally let her ride that scooter around the block and she is NOT giving that up.
We did stop by another neighbor’s house for a quick medical consult that she didn’t need any stitches, and then all the way home. We washed it out and put her to bed. She was asleep before Tall One left the room. We hope to make family walks a habit but I could do without the drama. That will never happen- not in our house.
A few months ago I had taken to hiding Pixie's scooter because she was so terrible at it that a 100 yard walk took 30 minutes and always ended with me carrying a scooter (is there a comfortable way to do this? I always end up banging myself in the leg no matter how I carry it) and a crying 3 year old. Not fun.
But, last night I was in a good mood and decided that after hours of practice in the driveway we would attempt for her to scooter around the block. And Tall One was along to carry the scooter if it all fell apart. We rounded the first two corners with no problems as Tall One and I talked about how much better Pixie was on the scooter and watched Ranger perform tricks on hers. Then, right as we stop to talk to a neighbor there is a crash and a cry.
Somehow, standing still, Pixie had managed to fall and hit her eye. Our dear neighbor gets a bag of ice, but in the way 3year olds have, Pixie refuses to actually put the ice on her swelling eye. We’re talking about a cut on her eyebrow and abrasions under here eye and a black eye forming as we watch. We offer to carry her home but she wants to ride the scooter. I gotta say that my heart swelled a bit with pride.
That’s my girl- not stopped by busted eye. Mommy finally let her ride that scooter around the block and she is NOT giving that up.
We did stop by another neighbor’s house for a quick medical consult that she didn’t need any stitches, and then all the way home. We washed it out and put her to bed. She was asleep before Tall One left the room. We hope to make family walks a habit but I could do without the drama. That will never happen- not in our house.
Labels
Labels
So, so often I hear parents say they don’t want their child labeled. Drives me batty. Everyone has a label- either self proclaimed or given by others. Great reader, polite, bookworm, troublemaker, athletic, funny, and so on. The parent who says, “I don’t want my child labeled” is lying to themselves.
You child already has a label.
Do you want it to be, “Child whose parents are in denial” or “Child whose parents won’t get her the help she needs” or “Child who has so much potential but his parents’ pride gets in the way”??? If an educational professional is counseling you to pursue special education services for your child DO IT. Get the testing, get the information, learn everything you can about your child and how he learns and what you can do to support that. A label of Learning Disabled, Autistic, Dyslexic, Apraxia, Developmentally Delayed, or any other string of the ABC’s is just a search term to look up on Google. Its just a name to give you direction in finding support and guidance for helping you child. Bring on the labels!
Bring on the acronyms and committee meetings and new vocabulary to learn. Your child will be labeled and categorized by her strengths and weaknesses, whether you are conscious of it or not. So be conscious of it- be proactive. Listen to the teachers, childcare providers, and friends who tell you that your child may need some additional support or may learn in an atypical way.
A label merely provides you a handle to hang onto as you navigate the educational system. By being a participant and advocate in the special education system, you and your child participate in choosing a label and have ownership of it. Empower your child to claim his label and love it!
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Introductions
So here I am, going out of my comfort zone. I've joined the masses and am blogging. For purposes of annonimity, I've decided to use our family "camp names." In Girl Scouts, when you go to camp, you are called by your camp name. At the end of camp, other campers try to guess your real name. So, to introduce us:
Me- Buttercup (can you guess my favorite movie?), wife to the Tall One, mom to Ya-Ya, Sparky, Ranger, and Pixie. Current stay-at-home mom working to create pockets of peace in our crazy life.
Tall One: My mom told me to marry him after the first date. She said he had height and musical ability and we needed that in our family. And here we are 22 years later celebrating our 17th wedding anniversary with 4 children. He is a hard working hubby who loves loud music, coffee, and being goofy with the girls.
Ya-Ya: My first born. 11 and just finished 6th grade. She is taller than me, wears a shoe size bigger than me, and we can share clothes. What?????? She is a huge help and I'd be lost without her. She loves to read and I mean ALL THE TIME.
Sparky: She picked this name because she loves the fire when we go camping. But the name says so much more. She is 9 and a rising 4th grader. Her mind is constantly on overdrive and she amazes us with her vocabulary and ideas.
Ranger: My only blondie at 6 years old- she was given the gift of coordination and strength like no other. She has boundless energy and a kind heart.
Pixie: Our bonus baby. She may be only 3years old, but trust me, she thinks she's 11. If those big sisters can do it, so can she. Best snuggler in the house.
Molly: 14 year old beagle. Only another beagle lover can understand living with an old beagle. She is stinky and messy and drives us batty but she's ours. I always tell our children she an example of how we show unconditional love, because nothing else explains her survival in our house after all the trouble she causes.
Shastie: our 8? year old mutt. Easygoing and smart and tolerant of the lopsided cuts I try to give her every summer.
Midnight, Sugar, Spots- our 3 mice. Yes, I PAID to bring mice into our home. We got them from a local rescue organization. Can you believe there is a rescue for mice? They've turned out to be my favorite pets.
So, now you've been introduced to us all. I've been kind and gentle, presenting us all in our best light. Keep reading the blog and I'm sure the truth will come out.
Me- Buttercup (can you guess my favorite movie?), wife to the Tall One, mom to Ya-Ya, Sparky, Ranger, and Pixie. Current stay-at-home mom working to create pockets of peace in our crazy life.
Tall One: My mom told me to marry him after the first date. She said he had height and musical ability and we needed that in our family. And here we are 22 years later celebrating our 17th wedding anniversary with 4 children. He is a hard working hubby who loves loud music, coffee, and being goofy with the girls.
Ya-Ya: My first born. 11 and just finished 6th grade. She is taller than me, wears a shoe size bigger than me, and we can share clothes. What?????? She is a huge help and I'd be lost without her. She loves to read and I mean ALL THE TIME.
Sparky: She picked this name because she loves the fire when we go camping. But the name says so much more. She is 9 and a rising 4th grader. Her mind is constantly on overdrive and she amazes us with her vocabulary and ideas.
Ranger: My only blondie at 6 years old- she was given the gift of coordination and strength like no other. She has boundless energy and a kind heart.
Pixie: Our bonus baby. She may be only 3years old, but trust me, she thinks she's 11. If those big sisters can do it, so can she. Best snuggler in the house.
Molly: 14 year old beagle. Only another beagle lover can understand living with an old beagle. She is stinky and messy and drives us batty but she's ours. I always tell our children she an example of how we show unconditional love, because nothing else explains her survival in our house after all the trouble she causes.
Shastie: our 8? year old mutt. Easygoing and smart and tolerant of the lopsided cuts I try to give her every summer.
Midnight, Sugar, Spots- our 3 mice. Yes, I PAID to bring mice into our home. We got them from a local rescue organization. Can you believe there is a rescue for mice? They've turned out to be my favorite pets.
So, now you've been introduced to us all. I've been kind and gentle, presenting us all in our best light. Keep reading the blog and I'm sure the truth will come out.
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