Binkytown

Pinch Me! No, Really! Pinch Me Now!

Today is a really good day. I have an iced green tea latte that is beyond tasty. The baby is elbowing me in the ribs as I type this, there is a krispy kreme donut fund raiser at work today (and therefore a box will be parked outside my office door. I will barely even have to get up to get one). The sun is shining. I'm wearing a comfortable smock that is a little bit stylish (no small feat at this point girls) AND YET.. It gets better. Better than two krispy kremes in rapid succession? Yes.

Feast your eyes on Rita's book.

Something I wrote here on this blog has been included in this "mommy blogger" anthology (a.k.a. A BOOK!) edited by Rita Arens: Sleep Is For the Weak. Rita tells the story of how this came to life a million times better than I could, so please go here to read about it. Her story reads like a book itself. A book about overcoming obstacles, about working hard and not giving up, about thinking big and dreams that come true. I wrote about this before when Rita first announced this was becoming a reality:

Dreams are mysterious creatures. Often when I'm driving or drifting off to sleep I sometimes wonder, How about that? I carried that forgotten dream all these years and suddenly it just happened. It wasn't because of any poetry workshop, it was having a baby and losing my mind and finding an outlet and writing down what I was thinking that a dream was realized. A dream I had put aside to make room for other things.

Because Rita dared to dream, one of my dreams has come true as well, and for that I am extremely grateful and so very proud. I can not believe I am being published along side these talented and wonderful bloggers. For some of these authors this is another line on a distinguished list of publications, but for me, it's a big deal. A really big, first time this has ever happened to me, and I never thought it would, deal.

Sleep Is For The Weak features a foreward by Stacy Morrison, Editor-in-Chief of Redbook magazine and includes the following contributing writers:

Amalah
CityMama
Birdie's New Mexico Time Machine
Finslippy
Friday Playdate
Fussy
IzzyMom
Laid-Off Dad
Mom-101
Mommy Needs Coffee
Mommytrack'd
Motherhood Uncensored
Not Calm (dot com)
Paper Napkin
Rancid Raves
State of Grace
Surfette
Surrender, Dorothy
Sweetney
The Modernity Ward
The Naked Ovary
Three Kid Circus
Woulda Coulda Shoulda

(AND ME!)

You can pre-order a copy today from any one of the following retailers: Amazon, Barnes & Noble or BookSense. There will be book parties and book signings and the like (how exciting is THAT?) so if this is the first you will be hearing of this, it will definitely not be the last.

Read this book, you will not be disappointed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PS: You know you want it. Cool Mom Picks is giving away three books.  See all of the details here.

Balance

Transition, for most people is hard. For my little man it is especially difficult. It has been a long (my god has it been long) winter and clothes are a touchy thing for my child. He has spent many months rotating in and out of his same five long-sleeved tee shirts. He has become somewhat (very) attached and I have grown tired of looking at them with their dark blue hues and faded grays (not to mention with the sleeves that have wound up around two inches above his wrist like Frankenstein.) Spring is oh so slowly appearing and even though I have picked up a number of new short sleeved tee shirts in bright happy colors, every time I pull one out he recoils in horror.

I purchased new pajamas for him in the next size up- blue and white. A three piece set with a tee, long pants and shorts. Amazingly he agreed to wear the tee shirt to bed the other night. Last night, in the warmth of his bedroom on a spring night, throwing caution to the wind I offered to pull out the shorts for him to wear after he was tucked in bed. Are they blue or purple? he asked. As I pulled them from the drawer I said oh my gosh are you going to be excited- they are both. They were a deep blue color (which we call purple for the sake of not having another argument) with light blue panel down the sides. I held them up and he lifted up his little legs so we could slide them on. He rushed out of bed this morning to show his father, who had yet to see them. White tee, blue shorts, white socks. Isn't he adorable? I said when he disappeared out of earshot. He looks like a little gymnast.   

************************************************************************

There are babies being born all over the place. The day care teacher and my neighbor down the street within the past couple of days alone. I still have six weeks and some days until my due date but the baby's arrival feels very much less speculative and much more real. My thoughts are frequently railroaded with visions of being in the hospital bed with a monitor strapped around my water buffalo middle. Epidural needles. Nurses. You really do forget, until you consciously remember. It's like my body is starting to prepare in more ways than one.

I have a crib set, jungle animals, very neutral, almost like new that I can set up for number two. I tell myself, it's silly to spend money on a new crib set when this one is perfectly fine. But I can't stop looking. Today I found one, deeply discounted, with dinosaurs. I think I have to buy it. We are repainting and updating the nursery and this is not the same child and I don't feel the same as I did the last time.

I shouldn't have to preface this, but I feel like I need to: Without implying that I love my little man any less, loved him any less, I am looking so forward to meeting this child. That anticipation, that vision of a baby in the crib was heavily clouded the first time with such uncertainty and for me, the steepest divide to climb between my old life and the new.   

I know I am in for some hard days and nights. I know my little man is going to have a terrible time with this. I know my patience is going to be tested again and again and I will do things or say things that I wish I had not. But I feel mostly ready. More ready than I thought I would have six months ago.

Today. Ask me again in six weeks.

Rock On!

Is your mama like my mama? My mama takes no prisoners, tells it like it is, gives it to you straight and regularly tells people that she thinks that instilling a little does of fear in your kids is a good thing.

No? Are you curious to see what that is like?

Click over to The Full Mommy to read my review of Mama Rock’s Rules: Ten lessons for raising a houseful of successful children for the Parent Bloggers Network.

Are you a Wimp?

In the early days when I would pick up my son, still an infant, from his day care I would often see loads of children milling around the play area. The teachers would be spread out among the playground equiptment but rarely would I see them fully engaged in play with the kids. I chalked it up to end of the day exhaustion; I know I would be wiped after spending the day with fifteen toddlers. Little did I know that this was not kid-burn-out as I had assumed...

Read my review of A Nation of Wimps: The High Cost of Invasive Parenting at the Full Mommy.

Ill tell you what I want, what I really really want

Except I don't know.

I saw my sister yesterday and she asked what our Mother's Day plans were. We don't have any.

My husband's family celebrates it quietly with a card and a phone call to Mom. My family always has had a get-together, although not necessarily on that day, and provided gifts for Mother's day, which really, feels more and more strange to me the older I get.

We could go out to breakfast, with scores of other families in a loud crowded place, but that really doesn't sound like much fun. Besides, who will be in charge of making sure we have toys, spare clothes, a potty seat, wipes, the light blue sunglasses (not the dark blue ones) and miscellany packed to go? Oh right, that would be me. Hmmm. 

I am much more likely to feel emotional or mom-ish on my son's birthday. To me, a child's birthday is something a mother always shares, even though the focus is entirely directed elsewhere. That's a day when you can reflect and recognize more than the day to day tasks and feel a real sense of accomplishment, of progress. A random Sunday in the middle of the month of May? Not so much. Maybe this changes as your children get older and Mother's day becomes something you can build a tradition on or where family memories are created. We are not there yet. So what I wish for this Mothers Day, I wish for mothers everywhere:

A day that is warm enough to play outside. Sunshine would be a bonus.

An afternoon nap- for both of us.

Random acts of affection: Perhaps an unexpected and unsolicited leg hug from a little man whirling through the kitchen.

A few minutes to talk to my husband uninterrupted before nine p.m.

A tasty meal. I don't care if I have to make it, I just want it to taste good.

No runny noses, coughs, band aids or crying jags that last more than five (OK seven) minutes.

Clean sheets to fall into at night, feeling content.

How do you want to be recognized this year? Check out the Parent Bloggers Network special extended Blog Blast to promote their new charitable giving site, Johnson’s Baby Cause, powered by Global Giving. As part of their responsibility to the global community, Johnson’s has hand-selected dozens of charities around the world that mirror their deep commitment to caring for the health and well-being of mothers and children - not just on Mother’s Day, but every day of the year.

If you are feeling more like damn it, you deserve a gift, I hear you - Both Johnson’s and PBN are chipping in for the prizes. Ten winners will receive a Johnson’s Mom and Baby product gift basket (thanks to Johnson’s) and $25 credit to donate to the charities of their choice at Johnson’s Baby Cause (thanks to PBN).

If you’ve got more than a few bucks to spare (or even if you don’t!), check out the celebrity-sponsored eBay auction benefiting Johnson’s Baby Cause. Bid on baby gear that’s been gently used by celebrities. (Think of how much fun it would be to brag about that at your next play date!)

         

Um. Contradict yourself much?

On whether the media should provide more realistic body ideals:

To expect that anything put out by Hollywood is going to be realistic is a bit naïve at this point. But that’s me, a 31-year-old woman, talking. If you’re a 15-year-old girl, you look at these bodies and think, How am I going to attain this?

I believe we have a responsibility in terms of disclosure about what’s touched up. More and more actresses are saying, ‘Look what they did to my waist on that photo shoot!’ that is powerful because at least it gives women a chance to express their imperfections. We owe it to girls out there to portray a healthy and true image of ourselves.

Quoting Elisabeth Hasselbeck, now appearing on the cover of Fitness Magazine, six months after the birth of her second child. In a bathing suit. And gold bracelets.

http://www.celebrity-babies.com/2008/05/elisabeth-hasse.html

He's really on to something.

Of course, I think my son is brilliant and talented and funny. He kicks a soccer ball while running like a semi-pro. He catches his football effortlessly. He cracks me up. Example: While trying desperately to convince me to buy some fruit snacks at the grocery store he said to me but mom they are so delicious and then slowly moved his tongue across his top lip in a licking-your-lips type fashion. Really, how am I to say no to that? ( I did, but it wasn't easy to do while laughing.)

He's now showing an affinity for music as well. Tomorrow is the Salamander Spring Sing at school. Three and four year olds putting on a music show. I am seriously dying from the cuteness factor already and there are 30 more hours to go. Because they practice every day he's springing up with new little tunes all the time that I've never heard before. In addition, he's starting to repeat many of the melodies he hears in passing. I was watching the Justin Timberlake HBO special while folding laundry and the chorus of "What goes around" got stuck in my head. I was singing it to no one but myself while pulling him out of the tub the other day and now he sings it all the time. If I try to sing with him, or before him, or after him, for that fact, he corrects me and says no, it's like this: and then sings the exact same thing I just did. I pulled up this video on YouTube and let him listen with headphones on and his smile went from ear to ear. It's the goes around song- he exclaimed, his eyes lit up. Oh yes it is.      

We are heading into the six month, one step backwards, two steps forward transition period. Like clockwork he's starting to plainly disobey, fall apart, yell and scream for every reason or no reason at all. I'm happy to report that I still remember the last time we went through this and I recall clearly coming out the other side and all the things I had to do to get there. I'm much more prepared and level headed about this round, and so far, hormones be damned, I've managed to persevere without completely freaking out like I did the last time. I know this is a phase and I know now is the time to metaphorically batten down the hatches. He needs clear boundaries and no exceptions and for us to tow the hard line. It can be done, but it's difficult for everybody. 

Yesterday was an amazing day. It was warm and sunny. We had the day off. We played and went out to lunch and set up race tracks. He was happy and warm and silly and I enjoyed every breath taking minute of him.

This morning he kicked and punched and refused to get dressed. Calling me on my bluff to carry him out to the car in his pajamas he looked at me defiantly and said "fine". So I did. Where he asked for real pants. (But left his shark jammy tee shirt on. I didn't even explain it apologetically to the day care teacher. I admitted it: He's still in part of his pajamas. That's how this morning went.)      

Tomorrow is another day. No, scratch that, in five hours it will be a different day for us with different moods and challenges and hopefully hugs. When he looks me straight in the eye and overturns a basket of toys I will do my best to take a deep breath and remember the wise,worldly, words of the all-of- twenty-something Justin Timberlake, because what goes around does come back around.

Waterworks

1. My husband is starting a new job (probably) May 19th. At the same company where I have worked for 13 years. Completely different area, but still, it's strange.

2. We have an old home. It needs new windows. We are trying to move little man from baby's room to the spare room we don't use and haven't touched since we bought the place. Somehow we've gone from a simple "let's repaint in here" to the entire upstairs needs new windows and must be repainted. By people other than us. For which we will shell out many dollars. Because of possible lead paint, etc. I may have to sleep in my living room for awhile. I am not sure how this happened. 

3. There is a baby coming in nine weeks

4. I have a new OB that I'm not entirely comfortable with

5. I have to decide VBAC or C Section and the choice feels monumental. No matter what good (or bad) advice anyone gives me, it's up to me and I am equally as torn

6. I have gained 40 pounds

7. I want to kick that hairdresser who cut my hair last time. I went (somewhere new) for a touch up and realized it's going to take me nine months to grow these god damned layers out

8. I have a cold

I started crying on Sunday and haven't stopped since.

The end.

   

Fast forward

Here at big city corporation it is Bring Your Child to Work Day. I'm pretty sure the Bring Your Child to Work Day people came up with this, but here at big city corporation we like rules and the rules are your child has to be nine or older to come to work with you. No screaming and pooping babes. Which I can appreciate, even though I think it would be a hoot to ogle some little teeny babies or wait patiently in the ladies room for some toddlers to finish waving their hands in front of the automatic paper towel dispensers. It would be a lovely distraction.

Some women in my department brought their daughters and while I thought they were indeed cute in their fancy dresses and shiny shoes it was the boys who made me stop in my tracks. Super adorable nine and ten year old little men, dressed in khakis and polo shirts. Long and lanky, some with glasses, walking closely down the hallways with their moms.

My boy at ten years old flashed before my eyes. 

These boys were still close enough to be comfortable walking side by side with their moms, not yet with the attitude of a teenager who wants their own space, but older than a young child who might still cling to a parent. These boys straddled that space effortlessly, walking with confidence, but not too much.

I saw my boy, a young man. Tall and skinny, a spring in his step.   

As I watched these pairs circulate around the building I thought those moms must be so proud. I was proud for them. I've said before, every milestone, every six month increment, every first day in a new classroom brings me so much joy. It means I'm doing something right, to see him growing, changing and learning as much as he does. But it also makes me sad, because sometimes I feel like I'm wishing the sometimes really challenging days away and don't appreciate this time as much as I should.   

I'm starting to really struggle at 30 weeks. Feeling a deep seeded sense of panic; This feeling of I can't do this. I haven't even worked my way up actually bringing this child home, I'm still so consumed with the physical reality of trying to maneuver in this big body and work and clean and cook and not sleep and how am I going to do this for ten more weeks? How will my body continue to grow in this space that I already feel is reaching maximum capacity?  How will my lungs collect any air at all?

Of course they will and I will, I have no choice and I know this. Every time that little voice springs up in my brain that says "I can't do this" I beat it down and ask of it, don't you know how fast the time goes? One day this will be a distant memory, just as the days before my first little man arrived are now. I wish someone, some brilliant physicist could explain to me how time seems to go so slowly yet really races past you at the speed of light and you don't notice until you look behind you.

Today I saw the future, walking in a pair of neatly ironed Dockers with me, open and bright eyed and growing up.   

    

Those were the days

A year or two after we were married, but before we had a child, my mate and I were living the high life. We purchased a duplex and rented the upstairs flat ($$), we deducted everything under the sun (totally related to the house of course) ($$), we had good jobs ($$) and disposable income ($$).

It must be noted that I was before, and am again, only buying things on sale and only when I can totally justify it. I grew up without money, have always been very frugal and had very little that was material or just plain fancy. I am hard on things, and as such, have never spent money on anything that is not easily replaced.

Around this time my husband decided to purchase a big ticket toy item, a bright yellow kayak with a hefty price tag. It cost as much as three months of day care does right now, so that's like chicken scratch in comparison today's expenses but back in those days, wow, that was a LOT. I was also working with a woman who appeared almost weekly with a new shiny bauble of some kind and had enough gold necklaces to choke an elephant. Gold necklaces=not my thing, but I kept thinking, do people really do this? Buy jewelry just because they can?

I started dropping hints that I'd like some earrings. As a gift. I knew we would move out of that duplex one day and double our mortgage payment, I knew a kid would probably arrive and diapers aren't cheap, so I thought this was my chance. It was now or never. I didn't want the ones basketball players wear that are as big as chocolate chip cookies, I was talking tasteful, little, diamond studs. I also figured if I didn't tell him he wouldn't figure it out, gifts were never big in his house growing up and he does fine, but he's not an over the top, I'm going to SO surprise you kind of guy who picks you up from work with a suitcase in the car and whisks you away to a spa. Not his style.

He mostly ignored me.  One night while watching TV a commercial came on for one of those chain jewelry stores advertising a sweetest day sale or some crap like that and I said, innocently enough, if you don't want to buy them for me I think I might buy those myself. He rolled his eyes and questioned why I would want to spend money on that. Well you bought a kayak, I observed, not because I was trying to guilt him into anything, for real, I just wanted to point out that I didn't stop him from doing that (Go ahead- ask me how many times he's used it in the past 5 years. Please.) so what was the big deal if I wanted something fun for myself?

Fast forward a couple of months. The mini obsession with the diamond earrings had faded and had been replaced by a little dog. We had a big dog and while what I really wanted was a baby, I was perfectly happy to satisfy that desire with a dog small enough to fit into my purse. I talked about it constantly. It wasn't realistic, and we decided not to do it, but I wanted it none the less.

Christmas arrived and we have a tradition. One big gift and a bunch of little miscellaneous goods wrapped up for fun. I unwrapped a stylish black leather clutch, a lovely Christmas gift and proceeded to unwrap my packages of gum, bendy straws and nail files. The last package was soft, you could squeeze it. Tearing off the paper I uncovered a teeny stuffed animal dog. Just like you wanted he said. My smile went from ear to ear. He got it, he got me, what I wanted. In his own way.

I started to pick up the paper scraps and clean up, tossing the dog lightly aside. He snatched it away quickly. What? I asked, puzzled by his attention to the pretend dog he had just thoughtfully given me.

Look again.

In the dogs ears were two pretty, delicate, stud earrings. Diamond earings.

Wow.

He totally blew me away.

I was surprised, I was touched and I was happy- in that way you get to be when someone gets you a gift that you really, really wanted but didn't expect. So clever, my man.

I have still have those earrings and wear them all the time. Except for the 5 week period in 2007 between Thanksgiving and Christmas when I left them on a shelf at my in laws house and had no idea I did that and searched frantically, all the time, for them (in drawers I never use, in the vacuum cleaner, in every pocket of everything I own) completely terrified of having to tell him that I lost them. Thank God I didn't have to. Not only because they were more costly than your average pair of earrings, but because that Christmas morning, and his creativity and thoughtfulness has yet to be outdone and I will never forget it.

The Parent Bloggers Network is collaborating with GetInHerHead.com, a free service for couples who want to get it right every time. Most men want to be better at giving, but they’re just not wired to listen as closely and remember details as well as your girlfriends do. Write your own, maybe you could win a gift certificate to your favorite spa for $250!

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