Kids these days….

 

Pictures are making a return here on the MMC. (Sorry Mom). They just spruce things up a bit.

We got over our week of hand, foot, and mouth disease only to be greeted by colds. That’s okay, though. Finishing off summer with two weeks’ of sickness is great. Really.

If you know me, you know that I only masquerade as a stay-at-home-mom. In reality, I have a bit of a paying job. It’s not usually worth talking about, because I only work one day a week, and maybe a weekend day. And it’s not rocket science, so I just usually don’t mention it. However, over the last 2 weeks, I have pretty much tripled my work hours, along with my level of insanity. (And I bet you didn’t think that last part was even possible).

In my mind, working a few extra hours was not going to  be a problem. Most of my work takes place in the afternoons, while the little one is napping. And of course, I envisioned 3 hour naps. Riiiigghht. Pipedream. And then there’s the 5-year-old. A child that age has no problem entertaining herself, correct? Especially when that child has just been showered with new toys, crafts, and books for her birthday. Wrong. On all counts. Just wrong. Davis might have had one 3-hour-nap day. The other days weren’t bad, but still. Not conducive to a job where one has to spend a good deal of time on the phone. And Ava. Oh boy. Yeah, not so good at entertaining herself. It seems all she really wanted to do was play on the computer. My computer. The one I use for work. She basically just moped around my office (which doubles as my kitchen) waiting for her turn. Nevermind that she has a Leapster, along with 2 other computer-like toys. Oh no, my friends. It’s Mommy’s PC that she wants. (I’ll take that a step further, and tell you that what she truly desires is a Mac. Just ask her. A Mac. Guess what, sweetie? Mommy wants a Mac, too, but we’re still PC around here).

This brings me to the meat of my post today. Kids these days and technology. I know, I know. I sound so old. But really. It’s pretty crazy to think about the fact that today’s kids have always known iPods, iPhones, Wii,computers, the internet, and all the stuff that comes along with that. I have a picture of Ava as a baby with my earphones on, holding my iPod. She knows how to work my iPod Touch better than I do, and has no trouble navigating the internet. So, it should have come as no surprise to me last week, when I walked in the kitchen and found her watching Katy Perry’s “California Gurls” video on You Tube.

Let me take a moment to mention that I’m not one of those moms who drives around listening to nursery rhymes or Baby Einstein CDs. We listen mostly to what I want to hear. Embarassingly, that tends to involve a decent amount of Top 40-ish tunes. As a result, my kids love pop music, and we like to have dance parties in our car. Sadly, this also means that my 5-year-old adores Katy Perry and Lady GaGa. That same 5-year-old can also read and write, and has also figured out that Google can take her places on the internet. So I really shouldn’t have been so surprised to find her gazing at a basically nude Katy Perry along with Snoop Dogg, but still. It was disconcerting, to say the least. The hardest part is having to explain to her why I don’t want her to watch such things. But really, the bottom line is that I’m not ready for her to go from this: (first day of soccer practice, by the way)

to this:

(image from www.katyperry.com)

So now, I’m having to limit her internet access to the basic, kid-friendly sites. We approve of www.nickjr.com, www.playhousedisney.com, www.pbskids.com, and www.starfall.com. I’ve had to tell her  not to go on Google, or any other site I haven’t approved. Last week, she even updated my Facebook status. Next thing you know, she’ll be asking for her own Twitter account.

I’m not ready for my baby girl to be grown up. I’m not ready to have to tell her about the evils of the world, internet predators, and why half-nude pop stars aren’t the best thing for her to see. I like the world she inhabits. The one where Snow White is real (we saw her at Disney….of course she is real), and where seeing the Chickfila cow in person might be the highlight of the week. Ava and I have our moments….the child can get under my skin like no other. But at the end of the day, I love my innocent, sweet little girl, and I just want to keep her safe. It’s a hard job, but it’s worth it.

Longest. Week. Ever.

Finally, and not a moment too soon, it's Friday. I think this is the week that has totally done me in. When it was Wednesday, I was CERTAIN it was Friday. Here's a re-cap of the week.

Monday was good, mostly. Pool time with Ava and Davis. Trying to use the pool as much as possible since it will close for the "winter" in a few weeks. Post-pool, I noticed that Davis was warm and took his temperature. He nearly dozed off on the changing table, which should have been my first sign that something was wrong. Anyway, he had a temperature of 99.7, which I wrote off to teething. Oh, and I should mention here that he woke up with a terrible-looking diaper rash that morning.

Honestly, I don't remember the rest of that day. Maybe there was a trip to Target? There often is, you know. And I'm sure there was wine for me. Oh, now I remember. There was a meeting that night for me. So, a night off.

Tuesday. Davis was not himself. At all. I kept thinking, "This is one difficult teething baby! Wow." But when he cried for 2 hours, I figured something was wrong. I peeked in his mouth to get a glance at the molars that he's cutting, and in addition to the molars, I saw sores. All over his lips. On his tongue. And on the roof of his mouth. Then I checked out his hands and feet. Spots. Sores. Gross. Went to the doctor that afternoon to confirm a diagnosis of hand, foot, and mouth disease. Yuck.

The rest of the week was pretty much spent under quarantine. Playdate scheduled for Wednesday? Cancelled. More trips to the pool? Cancelled. Mother's Morning Out? Cancelled. But boy, did I have one cranky baby all week. And naps? Terrible. Just terrible.

And here are just a few other highlights of things that happened involving my youngest child:

1) Bath on Tuesday. Davis and Ava are both in the tub. Davis appears very serious for a moment. Poops in tub. I quickly evacuate both children from tub. Davis gets loose and pees on the carpet.

2) Wednesday. Davis dumps a gallon-bag of Cheerios onto the kitchen floor.

3) Wednesday again. Davis submerges one of our cordless phones into the dog's water bowl. And then dumps the dog's water out everywhere.

4) Davis learns to climb on all of the beds in the house.

On top of that, my oldest child has been sassier than ever. But instead of focusing on the negative, here are a couple of funny Ava-isms from the last week or so:

Last week, we were at the grocery store, purchasing ingredients for her birthday party cupcakes. (Please note that she wanted a Disney Princess Castle cake from Harris Teeter, but Mommy doesn't spend $50 on a cake for a 5 year old). I was looking at the little paper cups for the cupcakes. There were plain white ones, and ones decorated with balloons. I instinctively picked up the ones with the balloons, at which point Ava spoke up and said, "Mommy? I would rather have the white ones. They're just a little more classic." CLASSIC. I seriously don't know where she comes up with this stuff.

A few days later, she was reading Goldilicious. (If you don't have girls, you probably are not familiar with this book, which is a companion book to Pinkalicious and Purplicious. If you're still lost, just bear with me for a second). She said, "How did they color these pages so well?" Before I could answer, she said, "Oh! I know. they went to www-dot-pinkalicious-coloring-dot-com and just clicked on the colors they wanted to use. Then they just printed it out." Riiiggghht. Good theory.

So, long week. Happy hour might have been starting at lunchtime most days. And we didn't call  it "happy hour". More like, "mommy's little helper" hour.

Now, I'll sign off with this. On top of it all, I started training for a half marathon this week. Who the hell am I???

Happy Birthday, Ava

Five years ago today, my world was turned upside down, in the best possible way. On August 14, 2005, my sweet Ava made her entrance into the world, and nothing has been the same since. I can't believe she's five. I don't think there is anything like having kids to make you see how quickly life goes by. I get sad sometimes, because I can't quite remember exactly how it felt to hold her newborn body in my arms, can't accurately remember the sleepless nights, or the colicky evenings. You can record milestones in a baby book, but nothing is ever as clear as the memories in your mind. And it turns out it's not really the milestones that make the best memories, anyway. It's the little moments. The hugs, the smiles, the giggles, and even the tears. Those little moments that really define your child. And I get a little sad, because every year, I feel like the memories of Ava's very early childhood aren't as sharp to me as they used to be. There is so much going on in all of our lives, that some of the best moments just blend into the minutae. That said, my goal for the next five years (and beyond) is to cherish the little moments, and revel in the things that make Ava who she is.

I thought about this post a lot, and what kind of words I'd like to say to honor my daughter on her 5th birthday. But the thing is, I can't reduce Ava to a mere list of traits on a blog post. She is so much more than that. She's funny, fiesty, shy, spirited, brilliant, precocious, and a bit of an old soul.  She's all of those things, but she's so much more. Most of all, though, she is loved. And she is love, for she has shown me the true meaning of love for the last five years, and I will never be the same for it.

Happy birthday, my sweet girl. I love you.

"I had a bad dream...."

Shortly after Ava turned 4 last year, Davis started sleeping through the night. He was six months old. "Yay! I get to sleep through the night again, too!" was probably my first thought. Unfortunately for me, Ava developed a fear of the night around the same time her brother began to embrace it. I really thought it was a phase. She started waking up a few times a night, saying, "I had a bad dream." Rarely could she tell us the nature of the dream, but that's the way dreams often go, right? I quickly figured out that if I laid in her bed with her, she'd get back to sleep and be fine. Problem is, she has a big bed (double), so I can get pretty comfy in there, and next thing I know, I'm waking up and it's morning.

Now, I'm not so cold-hearted that I think children who wake up scared should not be comforted. Quite the contrary. I remember the night being a little scary around that age, and a little hug from my mommy always made me feel better, too. I also remember getting into my parents' bed on stormy nights and getting to sleep there. But it was never a nightly thing.

Back to Ava. All of this started about a year ago. Up until then, she had been the BEST sleeper. She'd go down without a fight, read books in her bed until she fell asleep, sleep until way past 7am....it was great. Now this has become our night:

-Use every possible excuse not to go to bed
-Read two books. Argue about who gets to read them (her or me)
-Say prayers.
-Oops! Gotta use the bathroom. Again.
-Family hug.
-Sing a lullaby.
-"Hold me for a minute."
-Sit in a chair next to her bed for 5 minutes.
-Tell her goodnight, then wait for the tears to come.
-comfort her.
-She reads about 10 books, then calls for me to come take them out of her bed.
-She realizes she is scared, and asks for books back. We say, no, it's time to sleep. Then it's in and out of bed until she falls asleep. With the light on.

On the flip side, here is Davis' nighttime routine:
-Read two books.
-Turn on lullaby CD.
-Baby in crib. Night-night!

Anyway, I feel like I'm being a teeny bit manipulated with this whole bedtime thing, and I know that if I would just buckle down and be a Mean Mom, then maybe we could make some progress. But I feel sorry for her when she's crying that she's "too scared", so then I end up lying down with her until she falls asleep, or sleeping there in the middle of the night. She's only going to be this little for so long, and I doubt she's going to make me come lie down in her dorm room with her at college. My goal for now is to take baby steps to getting her to sleep on her own again, and trying not to get too frustrated with her in the meantime.

Did I mention that the poor girl also seems to be afflicted by night terrors? Now that's some weird stuff, let me tell you. She wakes up maybe an hour or 2 after falling asleep. She's crying, sweating, trembling, but totally unaware of what's going on. We ask her questions, she doesn't respond. After a few minutes, it passes, and she goes back to sleep, and never has any recollection of it the next day. Freaky stuff, especially the first few times it happened.

On a completely different topic, today is my birthday. I got the sweetest cards from my husband and kids this morning, and they really brightened my day. Turning 29 again has been great! I have a two-night celebration planned. Tonight is dinner at Dos Taquitos (margarita para mis cumpleanos, por favor) with the family. And then tomorrow night is dinner with the husband at my favorite restaurant, Poole's Diner. They have the best, best, best food in the world. Seriously. The world. And they have a kick-ass female chef. (Why is it that women are the primary chefs in most homes, but the most renowned chefs are actually men? Weird.)

I had planned to start my birthday with a run this morning. Alarm went off at 6:15, at which point I debated whether or not this run was going to happen. I decided it would be a good birthday present to myself, so I got dressed and ready to go. I walked out of the bathroom only to find Ava sitting on the floor of my bedroom. Seriously??? I said, "Honey, it's too early. You need to go back to bed." (and adding to myself, "since you stayed up until 9:30 last night fighting sleep). She said, as she rubbed her eyes, that she wasn't tired. So, instead of fighting it, I went back to her bed with her, and waited until she fell asleep. Next thing I knew it was 7:20, and the opportunity to run had passed. Maybe I didn't really want to go after all? Hmmm.

Kids in the Kitchen

Yesterday, I read an article in the newspaper titled "100 Days of Eating Right." In case you don't have time to read the article, here's the summary: A family of 4 in Charlotte decided to get rid of all the junk in their diets, meaning no processed foods. They are only eating "real" food, those that contain only five ingredients or fewer. Oh, and they have a 3 year-old and a 5 year-old. So, the mom is pretty much making everything from scratch, but using no sugar (or maybe just no refined sugar?), no white flour, and are buying nothing like Goldfish or breakfast bars for the kids to snack on. I'm enthralled.

According to the article, the family wasn't so healthy before. They ate white bread (gasp!) and took the kids to Chick Fil A, the article reports. Now the mom goes so far with this that she even makes cookies (without sugar - too refined) for the kids to take to the birthday parties they're invited to.

Reading the article really got me thinking. I will admit that while I have the best intentions when it comes to my kids' health and nutrition, the reality is that they eat a lot more junk than I'd like. And when I say "junk", I'm not talking about cookies or candy. I just mean easy, convenient, ready-to-go foods.

 I am a bit nutty about what I eat, and eat very little junk. We actually do not eat white bread. I eat meat about 2-3 times a week, at most.The kids eat lots of fruit, and a few veggies (although those are fairly limited, and it's getting worse). But they are picky (Ava more than Davis at this point), and I cater to that pickiness a lot more than I like to admit. Davis snacks on Cheerios, Goldfish, and Trader Joe's breakfast bars. Ava has an affinity for those high-fructose corn syrup-laden "fruit" snacks.....you know, the gummy ones that contain no actual fruit? (I no longer purchase these, but they are begged for EVERY time we go to the store).

Back to this issue of pickiness for a moment, and a couple of points I need to make. First, I am certain none of us recall ever being given a choice about what we ate. At least I don't. By the time I was Ava's age (5ish), I know that I was eating dinner with my parents every night (and I would even wait until 7pm!), and I just ate what was put in front of me. And I don't recall there being much that I didn't like. My mom can probably tell you better, but I'm pretty sure the rule was that I needed to try what was on my plate, even if I didn't think I would like it. Now, my own daughter, as you may know, is a teeny bit dramatic. So, if something as disgusting as say, a tomato were to cross her plate, it would be greeted with extreme and visible repulsion. Lots of "EWWW!!" and even some shudders to really get the point across that the vile tomato is not welcome. It really gets under my skin. I mean, please. I have prepared your dinner. Please do not insult the chef. Just taste the damn thing.

I also feel that I have gone wrong somewhere along the way when Ava announces, "I really don't eat any animals. Only nuggets from Chick Fil A and cheeseburgers from McDonalds." We need to work on changing that to, " I eat only grass-fed beef and free range chicken." But, being 5, that's probably not going to happen just yet.

I want my kids to eat what we eat, but our schedules hardly ever work for us to eat as a family, and Ava & Davis eat early. So, they get kid-friendly fare. I'm not happy about it. Really. Tonight, for instance, they had chicken nuggets. Gross. (And if you have ever watched Jamie Oliver show a group of West Virginia school kids how nuggets are make, you will understand why I flinch at the idea of serving nuggets to my kids. if you haven't watched it, here you go:


So, back to the nuggets at my house tonight. Ava ate 3 of them, and to make it worse, I allowed her to dip them in ranch. This was probably Davis' third or fourth time being offered nuggets, and he refused to eat them. In fact, he tasted one, and immediately spit it out. I offered him a bite from my hand, and he very clearly shook his and and said, "NO." Okay. Maybe I should take this as a not-so-subtle hint. And maybe I should stop and ask myself why I am trying to make this toddler acquire a taste for something he never needs to like. Is it just to make dinnertime easier for me? If so, it's time for some rethinking.

So, while I'm not willing to go as far as the family in the article, I do find myself freshly inspired to do right by my kids, and put into their bodies the healthiest foods I can manage. You definitely won't find me forcing my kids to turn down treats at a birthday party - to me, that's just denying one of the great pleasures of childhood. But maybe we can start passing up the free cookie at Harris Teeter. And maybe, just maybe, I'll start making one dinner for the whole family, finicky eaters be damned.

Summertime, and the living is....easy?

Every year, I get so excited about summer. I have visions of relaxing beach vacations, fun days at the pool, cookouts with friends, kids staying up late to run around and catch lightning bugs. (Insert sound of record screeching to a stop here). That vision of summer is just that - a vision. Not my reality. I'm not alone, I know, but here's a breakdown of those fun summer events in my world:

1) Relaxing Beach Vacation: (hang on while I catch my breath from laughing at that notion). We got to the beach pretty frequently, and try to stay for a week at a time. From the get-go, it's anything but laid-back. First, there's the packing. That involves moving the entire contents of our house into our car. Then we load both kids and the dog, and off we go on what should be a 3.5 hour drive. But no. We must take bathroom breaks. Or food breaks. And frankly, I think the husband takes as many of those breaks as anyone else. In the summer, meals have to  be consumed in the car since we have the previously-mentioned dog with us. Feeding a meal to a toddler in the car is not exactly ideal. I don't think they're known for their tidy eating skills. Finally, we arrive at the beach, and we then unpack the contents of the car into the condo. This requires several trips, even using a luggage cart. Ava then immediately wants to go to the pool. And we just want to grab a beer, a couple of chairs, and go sit on the beach and let the kids run around and wear themselves out. Isn't that how it's supposed to go?

So, a typical day at the beach goes something like this for us:
1) Spend one hour getting kids sunscreened & in bathing suits. Hope baby does not pee in his swim diaper, since they lack absorbency.
2) Gather towels, beach toys, snacks, chairs, hats, sunglasses.
3) Head to beach.
4) Realize we forgot the cooler, and kids are thirsty.
5) Go back up to condo, get cooler.
6) Listen to baby melt down because he has a sippy cup and his sister has a juice box.
7) Go back to condo to get juice box for baby.
8) Return to beach, only to find hot, whiny children who want to go to the pool.
9) Go to pool.
10) Eat lunch, rest, and repeat steps 1-9 later in the day.

Please note that the beach tends to have a nice breeze, while the pool is surrounded by a wood fence and gets no breeze. And we live in the South, so 98 degree days are kind of the norm. Plus, we pay good money to have a pool membership at home, so can we not just pretend the pool at the beach does not actually exist?

And speaking of the pool, that's a lot of effort, too. I'm not exactly complaining. I feel so lucky to have a great pool close to home that we belong to, where I can wear my kids out. But, you may know that a 15-month-old boy at a pool requires much work on the part of adult caregivers (me). He would jump straight into the deep end and think it was lots of fun. So, I spend lots of time in the water with him, thus feeling guilty that I am not giving my (almost) 5-year-old the same attention while she is trying to show off her new swimming skills. The good thing about the pool, though, is that when we go late in the afternoon, I pack pajamas, feed the kids dinner, shower them, and dress them in pj's before heading home. They love the pool showers, and Davis the semi-public nudity as an opportunity to run around the locker room holding on to what we around here call his "boy parts."

As we approach the end of July, I can't believe that summer is getting away so quickly. I had lots of great things I wanted to do with the kids, and there's so much we haven't done. I feel like I spend lots of time thinking about how great it will be when school starts back up, but I know I'm going to miss our not-so-laid-back summer days. The temperatures here are absurdly high right now. Heat indexes are way above 100, even 110 this week. So, despite the heat that's keeping us indoors, I'm going to try to make the most of these last weeks of summer, even if the days don't quite line up with my picturesque vision of the season. After all, September will be here before we know it, and who knows? I might miss having my little munchkins around all day.

What Not to Wear

In Motherhood, there are real challenges (sick kids, discipline, time management), and superficial ones. The superficial one that's on my mind today is Mom Fashion. Specifically. Mom Fashion for the stay-at-home-mom. (That's me, if you didn't know).

Once upon a time, I had a full-time job at a Fortune 500 company. While I did not particularly enjoy my work, I did enjoy dressing for work. We weren't too dressy....you know, business casual and denim on Fridays, so I had a little leeway in my fashion choices. I had a closet full of Banana Republic, J.Crew, and  boots and heels galore. I shopped ALL THE TIME. You might even say I had a little problem. My Am Ex bills at the time would have proven that to be true. Anyway,  while I do realize that BR and J.Crew are not exactly high fashion (come on, I did have a little budget), I think I always managed to look pretty good and put together. And I wore heels every day. This was also before ballet flats came into fashion (thanks, Tory Burch!), so heels were it, if you didn't want to look dowdy.

(Prior to my married days, I shared a house with my friend Katie (you can find her over here, at Run This Life). We were about the same size, and shared a shopping addiction, so we got to double our wardrobes during our cohabitation. Fun times.)

Fast forward about 5 years, and my fashion choices have changed a bit. I stay at home with my kids. I don't really have work clothes, and, besides, I would feel silly strutting around town in a pant suit and heels. Not that I even want to. In the cooler weather, I think I wear jeans every day. Summer brings about a few dresses, skirts, and lots of shorts. I used to never wear shorts. Ever. So, these days, I find myself trying to strike a balance between practicality and style. I try hard to get out of my workout attire before noon. I try to have decent hair (read: not too dirty). And I try to wear makeup every day. I'm better about this during the school year. Our preschool has some pretty well-attired mommies, so I try to keep up. And I've finally lost all my baby weight (though I'd like to lose 5 more lbs), so I feel like I can get back to investing in my wardrobe. My current style goal is to accessorize better. So, working on that. A couple of weeks ago, I purchased a cute dress and some fabulous wedges:

(Image from Revolveclothing.com)

Cute, right? I feel good about them.

I also stumbled on Saltwater Dreams, a great fashion blog written by a mom, which has given me inspiration to try to look a little more put together when I'm out. The Look for Less is another good blog. Designer-inspired, but more budget-friendly prices.

One more thing: I'll be 34 in a few weeks (but that's okay, because Mean Dad is getting ready to turn 40!!). I feel like the 30s are an awesome decade. But dressing in your 30s starts to get a little tricky. I still feel young enough that I want to embrace all the trends, but remaining age-appropriate is becoming important, too. I tried on the cutest dress at Urban Outfitters the other day. From the front, it was great. Flattering, good color, good cut. But then I practiced bending over. You know, like I was picking up a toddler. And you know what? Wardrobe malfunction. Of the worst variety. So, dress returned to the rack, unpurchased.

Also, I think I may be losing my mind a little, because rompers are starting to look kind of cute to me. But I have this rule that I don't wear trends that are also offered to my 5 year old. So, no rompers. No matter how cute (I'm talking to YOU, j.crew. Stop making me want this).

So, my friends. If you have any mom fashion advice or stories you'd like to share, please feel free to do so. In the meantime, I'm off to check out what I'll be wearing for school drop off this fall.