Monday, 17 June 2013
The other day we were going down to the pool in our complex and my kids were fighting over who got the green inner tube. Okay, we have two of them, one green, one blue... they are EXACTLY the same. Exactly. Same size, shape, design, amount of air inside... the ONLY thing different about them was the color.. the stupid color and they were FIGHTING over it, dramatically I may add. After a few minutes of listening to them trying to work it out, I lost my patience. I yelled, "Listen to you both. You sound ridiculous. They are the same thing, who cares what color you get????"
Then I said it. I did it. The 'Ol Kids are starving and have nothing mom rant, "There are children. In places. That don't even have clean water, TO DRINK! There are kids in a hundred degree temperatures, without shoes, waiting for the possibility of a delivery of RICE.. to eat, since that's all they get. You have NO idea how good you have it and how stupid you both sound arguing over who get's a specific COLOR!... You have 1 minute to work it out, nicely or I pop them both!"
They stared at me, (always taken aback a bit when I hit "that" tone) paused for a minute, looked at me like, Wtf is this crazy person talking about, then continued to argue. I gave them one minute. NO luck. So, I walked over and poked both the inner tubes with the scissors, squeezed them both so they heard the air leak out in a sharp whistle, picked them up, put them in the recycling and walked out the front door to wait for them to go to the pool. They sat there for a minute, shocked, then got up and followed me out and minutes later, were laughing and playing in the water. Did I teach them a lesson? I don't think so. They have so many pool toys that they didn't miss it and maybe I just showed them that it's no big deal to ruin our things... I don't know, but what I DID realize is that I wanted my kids to have a little more respect for their things, their life style, I wanted to teach them humility. And you just can't. I can't talk them into understanding. Even showing them pictures I find on the internet, they look but just can't grasp it. More Here...
I've always dreaded and looked forward to this conversation with him. I wanted to tell him of his Grandpa that he will never know and I only knew for a short while. I wanted to tell him that my dad was a jokester and a brilliant writer and Ad man. How he made bad jokes and snorted when in a good laugh and was adored by everyone and anyone that crossed paths with him during his life. I wanted to tell him that he shared his middle name with my dad and his penchant for sarcasm.
But, I also knew that by me telling him my dad died when I was young, would put in his young mind the knowledge that, something like that could happen. That losing a parent was possible. And I didn't want him to know that yet. I feel that a part of my childhood was stolen, not for the loss of my father, but for the fear after, that I could also lose my mother.
I spoke of my dad's death in a matter-of-fact kind of way. I built it up that he ate a lot of red meat, drank his share of booze, smoked cigarettes and didn't exercise. And then I casually reminded him, that's why we have well-checks and eat fruit and I go to the gym. And even though, he never straight out asked, could that happen to you, I knew it was in there somewhere, and I wanted to answer the question before he could ask it. More Here...
Friday, 14 June 2013
WASHINGTON, D.C. – In cooperation with the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC), Baby Matters LLC of Berwyn, Pa., is announcing a voluntary recall of all models of its Nap Nanny and Nap Nanny Chill infant recliners and covers. This recall is announced as part of the settlement of an administrative case filed by CPSC in December 2012, which sought a mandatory recall of the Nap Nanny and Chill products.
From 2009 to the present, the Commission staff has received at least 92 incident reports involving the Nap Nanny and Nap Nanny Chill products, including five infant deaths. CPSC is aware of four infants who died in Nap Nanny Generation Two recliners and a fifth death involved in the Chill model. In the incident reports received by CPSC, there were 92 reports of infants hanging or falling over the side of the products, including some infants who were restrained in the product’s harness.
There are many roads I can take about this, but I want to take the Gender-bending hairstyle road today.
When my son was little, he had perfectly coiled blonde ringlets that I adored. I was often stopped and he was admired. As he reached toddler age, I kept them there, as they fell just above his shoulders and this is when people started to make the mistake of referring to my BOY as a girl. "How old is she?" "She has beautiful blue eyes"... I never really bothered to correct people, because.. well who gives a shit. But, one day, paying at the grocery store, my now 3 year old son, stood next to me and the checker asked, "Would she like a lollipop?" and it was almost funny, because she was looking right at my son, but my son sort of looked behind him and around, like This dumb lady talking to me? I corrected her and she back tracked quickly with apologies and how she just saw the pretty blonde hair, etc. No hard feelings lady, I get it. And my son didn't seem to care either at that moment, but it was the first time that he was made aware and it seemed the pivotal moment that almost marked his true awareness.. Because the next few times it happened, he reacted and then one day when he was about 3 1/2, he asked if I would cut his hair. I respected that. The kid didn't want people to think he was a girl. Period. So, we cut his hair,... well okay, trimmed. (we have round heads and have no business rocking crew cuts), but I cut just enough that he couldn't be mistaken any longer. More Here...
But times are different. And in all honesty, all of these things they are equipped with are not really for them, but for me... So that I can relax and enjoy the road and listen to my own music. And the first 3 hours always go pretty well, then we stop for lunch and potty break, re-position their area for round 2... or 3... and we are good for an hour'ish... and then it begins... the restlessness kicks in, the organized state of the floor area is becoming wrecked from use, their pillows are scrunched and are just in the way now and the dvd player needs to be charged, but the charger has fallen to the bottom of the bag which is now at the bottom of ALL the bags on the floor of the car, just out of reach enough that all of our finger tips can't grab it and it doesn't matter anyway because I've forgotten whose turn it is to choose a movie and they swear it's both their turn and just as I'm about to pull this car over and add a good 30 more minutes to this trip as I re-organize, mediate and begin again, only for something else to come up and some bickering to begin... But NOT this time kiddos... More Here...
Thursday, 13 June 2013
So, I spent the next 2 months until my next routine ultra sound trying every way possible to figure it out on my own. I'd forgotten about all of the little, fun games and Olds Wives tales until recently, when I shared them with my friend who is WAITING until the big day to find out what she's having... (Whaaaat? I could never do that). And I remembered that out of all of them, I gotta say, they were about 80% correct. Which is that weird allusive number that feeds into the pregnant woman's need to know psyche and stokes the fire of these Urban Myths just enough to keep them around and with just enough truth to them to keep them around FOREVAHHHH!!!
Some Urban Myths:
1. Cheese. If you're loving cheese more than usual, you're body is craving protein and that means... BOY!
2. Breaking out? Like... A LOT? Word has it that, girls steal your beauty... through your face (and back and butt sometimes too. eew.) Acne? GIRL!
3. How do you carry? Your belly up high like a round ball? GIRL! - Down low and like a football - BOY!
4. Are you loving Ice Cream? Do you want to BATHE in it? GIRL! - Craving salt and sour things? - BOY!
5. Dry Hands, itchy too? Not enough lotion in the world to moisturize? - BOY!
6. This one isn't really about the gender, but if you have a lot of heartburn, they say, you'll have a ... HAIRY BABY!
Bella’s first night earth side and she slept in the arms of her gramma rather than her momma’s. At some point, my mom woke me saying I needed to feed her. I did and then I went back to bed, leaving my daughter with my mom. Looking back, it hurts both physically and emotionally that I did that. I didn’t know any better, and thought I was doing the “right” thing. After gramma left we tried the whole crib thing, but it never worked out. Bella had her days and nights mixed up and exhausted, I relinquished control and began co-sleeping. She did well in her pack-n-play next to our bed. I got up to feed her and when our breastfeeding relationship ended at 4 months (another story, for another post) I kept formula and bottles right next to us to easily make a bottle in the middle of the night. It was easy, and worked well.
As she grew we tried the crib thing again, and even the CIO thing (shudder). It left me with a pain so deep I can’t quite bring it to words, a hollow and desperate feeling. Finally, I just took the crib railing off and lay with her as she fell asleep. We had a routine that we followed religiously, but bedtime was still a walking nightmare. It took, sometimes, hours to get her to sleep and she still ended up in our bed midway through the night. This is where our bed-sharing relationship began; because I gave up. I let my daughter be the little girl she was. My husband loved bed-sharing! It took 15 minutes max to put her to sleep and she began sleeping through the night. Waking up to either a sleeping angel or a glowing awake princess melted our hearts each and every morning. My relationship with my husband grew stronger as I wasn’t nearly as stressed, and when bed-sharing couples say it doesn’t affect their sex life, they are soooo right (TMI, sorry).More Here...
Wednesday, 12 June 2013
Reader submitted funny
Siri is great technology, but when faced with deciphering the voice of a three year old, well, this is what happens!
All he wanted to do was call his dad using his full real name, and Siri took all of that and spit it out back out. Instead of calling dad, Siri can now hello to "Ball Sack".
The other day, one of my good friends, (whom I adore by the way and love dearly and whose kids I adore and would care for at any moment of the day) and I met at Target. We both needed to get some things done, both with our children and thought we'd make a "trip" out of it. Our kids are the same age; our son's are both 8 and my daughter and her other son, 6. We have been good friends for a few years now and have spent countless weekend days playing at the pool and in her backyard. Her boys are great, but they are rambunctious boys; often found kicking each other and wrestling each other to the ground both in fun and in anger. I KNOW that her kids disposition is just naturally different from my kids and that's okay. In fact, I often wonder, if my second were a boy, if I would allow more physical altercations to take place than I do, but not sure. Her boys are 'boys"... they are rough and tough and aggressive, but not always in a physical or negative manner, they're just ... um... louder (?), their movements... bigger(?). I also need to tell you, that my friend is a phenomenal mother. She's one hundred percent there for them, is affectionate and does show a great amount of discipline. We both exercise the same angle of discipline... or rather, we both follow through with our warnings..
However, when in public... in any public arena, we differ. Greatly. As we made our way through Target's aisles, the kids were playful with each other, picking things up and tossing beach balls and laughing and poking fun at each other. Fine. However, her boys were extremely loud, yelling, blowing whistles and running up and down the aisles, sometimes finding themselves in the way of other shoppers and quite frankly, knocking things off the shelves and not putting them back. I didn't say anything and would pick up random things to place them back onto the shelves and we would move along. A few times, I called out to my kids to remind them to "slow down" or "no running" or "put it back please", and they would. When I saw that they started to follow the enticing lead that was more frenzied than I thought was okay for Target, I called them to my cart and firmly reminded them of where we were and how I expected them to behave and that they would walk near me the rest of the way. It was then that we found ourselves observing our friends behavior; we watched them run around, almost run into an elderly lady, continue to pull things off the shelves, play with them and then leave them in the aisles and kick at each other unaware of who was near. My friend, well... she let them and occasionally would throw out a weak, "watch out for other people" as I noticed looks from the other shoppers and it was then, that my kids and I fell back a bit, making a detour to another aisle, and to be honest, maybe I'm a bad person, but I did not want anyone to think that we were a part of their group or that her kids were my responsibility. More Here...