When you work with as many women as I do, there are always at least a few who are pregnant. Since I totally love being a mom, I get excited when I hear that someone is going to be a parent for the first time. Truth be told, I am always more excited when I hear they are having a girl because I am partial to that gender. I realize that I was one Y chromosome away from a life without hair tinsel, glitter, princesses, and bedazzlement. On that note, I thought I would pass along some advice and tricks of the trade that I have learned so far to my mommies to be who read this blog.
First of all, you cannot spoil an infant. You cannot hold them too much, love them too much, spoil them or make them too happy. Normal human sleep is something that usually has to be taught, retaught, then retaught again. I am a huge fan of Ferber and I have had to re-Ferber Natalia a few times. Her narcoleptic cue is Bach's Suite 3 Air. I have been playing this song on repeat for her every night since she was four days old. I fell in love with this song when I heard it while watching the movie Seven. Kind of a creepy place to find your baby lullaby, but this has been a very effective cue for her bedtime.
Speaking of routines, children need routines. Seriously, it upsets their apple carts if they don't have a predictable routine to follow and nap times are sacred. You will revolve your entire life around the feeding and circadian rhythm of your child when they are young. Just watch the first time you travel or do something fun where you alter your little angel's schedule. It's almost comical how much it messes with their little world. Don't fret too much. They get over it.
Children are so much cuter when they don't smell and are clean. I had a mother as a patient the other day and her baby (who couldn't walk yet) had the filthiest feet I had ever seen on a baby and smelled like spoiled milk. I quickly offered to watch the smelly cherub while she went to xray and immediately scrubbed the little one before mom got back. I get that babies don't like to be cold when they bathe, so my mommy trick for this is to warm the bathroom up first before you wash her. I used to run the shower on hot to steam up the bathroom when Natalia would bathe in the counter top baby tub. As for those toenails, good luck. They are still a source of tears in Lacowland.
Babies and toddlers are disgusting. They drool, poop and spill food everywhere. They put everything in their mouths and never take the initiative to wash their hands. Because of this, they get sick a lot - which means you will get sick a lot too. When Natalia was small and congested I would strap her into her vibrating bouncy chair with a fresh set of batteries so we could all sleep. I almost bought an otoscope because I thought I was paranoid about all of her ear infections, but then we just got tubes put in her ears and they were magical. I highly recommend them. I'm old school and medicate my kid for congestion, pain, insomnia and allergies. I know the trend is to not use medication anymore, but I'm not a very progressive person anyway. So, do what makes you feel like a good mother because being a mother means you feel guilty for at least 60% of your day. I'm feeling guilty right now because Natalia is happily playing Barbies and I am "ignoring" her writing this blog.
As your child gets older there will be heavier stuff to worry about. One of the biggies is making sure you behave in front of your child. I DO NOT think it is cute to hear a kiddo drop the F-bomb - especially when it is dropped in front of my child who is a virgin to such language. If you smoke, your kid will probably be a smoker. If you get drunk in front of your kids.... well, you get the picture. Natalia already has a mild case of backseat driver road rage. I'm working on it. Also, put a helmet on her noggin because it's precious. Until I knew that she could manage on her own, Natalia wore a helmet to ice skating lessons. If you graphically explain to them their head will bleed and their brains will fall out they will wear it. I'm all about being graphic. You should have heard the gun safety talk we had with Natalia. Of course the main point is "don't touch", but I told her what happens if she does and it goes off. I told her how sad I would be if she died and we didn't get to see each other anymore. I know it is harsh, but guess what? She doesn't touch the guns in the house.
Here is a mommy secret for you- oil free eye makeup remover. It's amazing. It gets crusty boogers off of sore, sick noses; takes bandaids off so they won't hurt; and removes my eye makeup without pulling out my eyelashes. Kids love bandaids, but freak out when it comes time to remove them. If you really want to plan ahead just stock up on gauze and coban. Also, this sounds really gross, but KY jelly will make it so she can dress her own Polly Pockets in those stupid rubber outfits. Don't judge me. I got tired of dressing Polly and her friends and this KY was left over from the days of rectal temps.
Even at seven years old I still don't think I can love her enough, spend too much time with her, talk to her enough, or hold her too much. The spoiling thing does come into play and that's a fine line we tread. Being a parent is the coolest thing I have ever done, but also the hardest. Aren't all the good things the ones we have to fight for? Just don't forget your husband in the mix of all this parenting, since he is the one who got you "in the family way". Get a babysitter and ditch the kid(s) for a few hours. Your memory is way better than theirs anyway so do something fun. They always like the babysitters better anyway. After all, you guys will be "just mom and dad" before you know it. Spoil them early!
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Mother, Exit Stage Right
So it dawned on me yesterday (in one of those brutal sucker punch kind of ways) that I am now more of a spectator to the Natalia Show as opposed to being her co-star. Sometimes I'm even the director, but she is mostly doing improv routines now. It's not really sad as much as it is different because I feel like it has just happened so quickly. Seven years seems like such a short time.
A few blogs ago I wrote about trying to teach Natalia how to ride a bike. You may remember me writing about how she just has to figure it out on her own, in her own time. Well, this week she decided to take off peddling. I am happy to say she hasn't plowed into any mailboxes yet and her knees are still intact. She did kindly ask us not to cheer her on because it distracts her and she loses her balance. Sheesh. It must be exhausting to be a child to such inept parents, right? She didn't need us to tell her how to do it, she really just needed us to be around to watch for cars (because she is busy concentrating), and to watch for the ever present threat of STRANGERS (yep, she's a cop's daughter, alright). She did at one point hit a bump and yell out "Ow, my vagina!". Did I mention this was on Jeremy's watch while I was at work? He was slightly mortified, but I am proud of her near anatomical correctness. Now if she had said "Ow, my perineum!", that would have been over the moon hilarious. Maybe I'll teach her that word tomorrow. She swears she won't be a nurse because my job is disgusting; she just has the lingo down. Oh, that reminds me: Natalia has a new form of measurement. She was trying to tell me about something that was a lot, or big and she said "it's as big as my bladder bag". That's my girl.
It is so much fun to watch her little personality evolve into it's own human. I mean, she has some of my traits and some of Jeremy's too, but really she is her own individual person. It is a deep "Jack Handy" thought when I start thinking about how there is only one of her in the universe. There will never be another person like her and I think she is totally cool. I notice this more as I sit in the director's chair.
So, part of me taking a step outside her personal bubble means she no longer thinks I know everything. Bummer. I kind of liked that omniscience. She told me today that there is a new danger on the playground. Parents, guard your children from the Green Granny Smith Spider. You may not know this, but according to Natalia it can spit venom out of its mouth and take out five kids in one second. Are you listening to me?! One second! It gives you a warning hiss, then will spit and spray in a horizontal line catching five kids by surprise. Pray to God that you are the sixth kid. She says she saw this spider on the playground the other day and one of the kids was dared to touch it. Well, he was really scared, but touched it and then "he went out". I asked her if he died right there and she rolled her eyes at me and say no, that he just "went out" and she made a fainting motion. The kids around him tried to push the ill fated child to get him to wake up, but he wouldn't move so they called the teacher over. I asked her if this kid was a drama queen and she assured me that this child seemed very legit. I tried to tell her that there is no such spider, but she started crying about how I never believe her and invited me to come play at recess to assess the Green Granny Smith Spider situation for myself. I think I'll have to check it out.
I did manage to impart some very key wisdom on Natalia tonight. She was telling me that she made a "squirrel habitat" (her words) today as school. This wasn't a classroom project, mind you, but just something she decided to do out of the goodness of her heart. I asked her if was a squirrel like a weird human, or the little animal. She gave me a very puzzled look and told me she didn't know what I meant. I told her that at work we call weird humans "squirrels". Her reply was "Well, it is made of grass and bark, so it has got to be for an animal". I reminded her of all the people daddy sees at night who live in the park (which is why we don't use the park tables at Albertson's Park) and sleep on the bark and grass. I could tell that she agreed with this very sound logic and assured me that it was for the small animal squirrels, not the weird human varietal. It's all about the details, really.
I plan on sitting back to enjoy this new perspective. No one can explain to a non-parent how much fun "just watching" can be. It's not about living vicariously, but about seeing this fascinating human enjoy the world for the first time. I guess I am more of the entertained audience to the Natalia Improv Comedy Hour than director. That's fine because it's my favorite show.
A few blogs ago I wrote about trying to teach Natalia how to ride a bike. You may remember me writing about how she just has to figure it out on her own, in her own time. Well, this week she decided to take off peddling. I am happy to say she hasn't plowed into any mailboxes yet and her knees are still intact. She did kindly ask us not to cheer her on because it distracts her and she loses her balance. Sheesh. It must be exhausting to be a child to such inept parents, right? She didn't need us to tell her how to do it, she really just needed us to be around to watch for cars (because she is busy concentrating), and to watch for the ever present threat of STRANGERS (yep, she's a cop's daughter, alright). She did at one point hit a bump and yell out "Ow, my vagina!". Did I mention this was on Jeremy's watch while I was at work? He was slightly mortified, but I am proud of her near anatomical correctness. Now if she had said "Ow, my perineum!", that would have been over the moon hilarious. Maybe I'll teach her that word tomorrow. She swears she won't be a nurse because my job is disgusting; she just has the lingo down. Oh, that reminds me: Natalia has a new form of measurement. She was trying to tell me about something that was a lot, or big and she said "it's as big as my bladder bag". That's my girl.
It is so much fun to watch her little personality evolve into it's own human. I mean, she has some of my traits and some of Jeremy's too, but really she is her own individual person. It is a deep "Jack Handy" thought when I start thinking about how there is only one of her in the universe. There will never be another person like her and I think she is totally cool. I notice this more as I sit in the director's chair.
So, part of me taking a step outside her personal bubble means she no longer thinks I know everything. Bummer. I kind of liked that omniscience. She told me today that there is a new danger on the playground. Parents, guard your children from the Green Granny Smith Spider. You may not know this, but according to Natalia it can spit venom out of its mouth and take out five kids in one second. Are you listening to me?! One second! It gives you a warning hiss, then will spit and spray in a horizontal line catching five kids by surprise. Pray to God that you are the sixth kid. She says she saw this spider on the playground the other day and one of the kids was dared to touch it. Well, he was really scared, but touched it and then "he went out". I asked her if he died right there and she rolled her eyes at me and say no, that he just "went out" and she made a fainting motion. The kids around him tried to push the ill fated child to get him to wake up, but he wouldn't move so they called the teacher over. I asked her if this kid was a drama queen and she assured me that this child seemed very legit. I tried to tell her that there is no such spider, but she started crying about how I never believe her and invited me to come play at recess to assess the Green Granny Smith Spider situation for myself. I think I'll have to check it out.
I did manage to impart some very key wisdom on Natalia tonight. She was telling me that she made a "squirrel habitat" (her words) today as school. This wasn't a classroom project, mind you, but just something she decided to do out of the goodness of her heart. I asked her if was a squirrel like a weird human, or the little animal. She gave me a very puzzled look and told me she didn't know what I meant. I told her that at work we call weird humans "squirrels". Her reply was "Well, it is made of grass and bark, so it has got to be for an animal". I reminded her of all the people daddy sees at night who live in the park (which is why we don't use the park tables at Albertson's Park) and sleep on the bark and grass. I could tell that she agreed with this very sound logic and assured me that it was for the small animal squirrels, not the weird human varietal. It's all about the details, really.
I plan on sitting back to enjoy this new perspective. No one can explain to a non-parent how much fun "just watching" can be. It's not about living vicariously, but about seeing this fascinating human enjoy the world for the first time. I guess I am more of the entertained audience to the Natalia Improv Comedy Hour than director. That's fine because it's my favorite show.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Working on Being Still - A Total Oxymoron
Most women will tell you that there is nothing still about being a woman, let alone being a mom. Most of us have a million things rolling around in our head - to do lists, errands to run, does my lip gloss look good, did I wear deodorant today.... Constant noise. Among this constant chatter for me are worst case scenarios that pop into my head such as: I'm at the gym and imagine the commotion and what I would do if that old guy with the paunch suddenly has a coronary, or what would I do if that lady at the restaurant who weighs 400lbs starts choking (my arms are only so long), or how am I going to react if Natalia starts choking on a piece of candy.
This last one confused Natalia a bit when she was a toddler. Since I did choke on a butterscotch candy when I was nine, I would never let Natalia eat hard candy when she was little. We would be at a restaurant and she would ask for a little peppermint and my pat response would be "No bubbie, that's a choking hazard". Natalia got a little older and we let her start eating those candies, but still never in the car. The best part was when we were up at the hostess desk and she loudly, but politely asks "Mommy, can I please have a choking hazard?". That's just what she thought they were called. It's weird to say "Yes lovey. You can have a choking hazard." It just sounds like irresponsible parenting, as opposed to just giving your kid a piece of candy.
Lately, my mind has been on overdrive and I am working on cooling it off a bit. I'm hoping someday when Natalia is older, she will read this and understand why I am a bit neurotic about her safety. It's an ugly world in the ER for children and I wish I had more faith that God would keep her safe, but I don't. I don't think there is ever a good reason to steal a child's life away. I may not always think the parenting is on the up and up, but there are other parents out there who would gladly step in and change that child's life. Most people have the luxury of ignorance. I firmly believe it is a total luxury to never have seen a dead child, or a child who had a stroke from hitting his head, or a little one who is critical after a near drowning. Yowzer. This is heavy stuff, huh. The positive spin I try and put on this is I need to appreciate every second because we are all on borrowed time.
Now as much as I would love to wrap Natalia in bubble wrap, I realize that's not going to cut it for her happiness or sanity. You should have seen me the last two times we went boating with our friends and Natalia was being pulled behind the boat in the tube. I tried to smile and look calm, but Jeremy and my friends saw right through it. I was a nervous wreck that even a vanilla mojito couldn't take the edge off. You see, she just learned how to swim a couple of weeks ago and while I know the life jacket would keep her afloat, she doesn't yet have that instinct to close her pie hole when the water hits her in the face. Thankfully our friends are an amazing balance of giving her an exciting ride and keeping it tame for my sake. I told Josiah that him being gentle is more for my sake than hers. She is irreplaceable and deeply treasured. Then I politely threatened his life in my sweet southern way.
I rationally know that I am crazy trying to control the universe for the sake of my baby girl, but that won't stop me from trying. It's a tough dance to make sure her life is adventurous and exciting, while keeping her safe and protected. I don't believe that God will keep her safe because He is also a cruel God and takes children all the time. Even the bible shows Him as hard core, so why would He change now just because we wear jeans to church and try to make Him "cool". So, my head case work mainly involves me realizing that I'll deal with that when it comes around. I try and remember the verse "Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10). I'm working on it, but I'm still pretty antsy. In the mean time, Natalia is obsessed with boating, swimming, horse back riding and hard candies. I'll let her have her fun, but in the back of my mind is a constant hum of "protect her airway" and "please don't make me use my Life Flight membership because she's a leveled trauma".
This last one confused Natalia a bit when she was a toddler. Since I did choke on a butterscotch candy when I was nine, I would never let Natalia eat hard candy when she was little. We would be at a restaurant and she would ask for a little peppermint and my pat response would be "No bubbie, that's a choking hazard". Natalia got a little older and we let her start eating those candies, but still never in the car. The best part was when we were up at the hostess desk and she loudly, but politely asks "Mommy, can I please have a choking hazard?". That's just what she thought they were called. It's weird to say "Yes lovey. You can have a choking hazard." It just sounds like irresponsible parenting, as opposed to just giving your kid a piece of candy.
Lately, my mind has been on overdrive and I am working on cooling it off a bit. I'm hoping someday when Natalia is older, she will read this and understand why I am a bit neurotic about her safety. It's an ugly world in the ER for children and I wish I had more faith that God would keep her safe, but I don't. I don't think there is ever a good reason to steal a child's life away. I may not always think the parenting is on the up and up, but there are other parents out there who would gladly step in and change that child's life. Most people have the luxury of ignorance. I firmly believe it is a total luxury to never have seen a dead child, or a child who had a stroke from hitting his head, or a little one who is critical after a near drowning. Yowzer. This is heavy stuff, huh. The positive spin I try and put on this is I need to appreciate every second because we are all on borrowed time.
Now as much as I would love to wrap Natalia in bubble wrap, I realize that's not going to cut it for her happiness or sanity. You should have seen me the last two times we went boating with our friends and Natalia was being pulled behind the boat in the tube. I tried to smile and look calm, but Jeremy and my friends saw right through it. I was a nervous wreck that even a vanilla mojito couldn't take the edge off. You see, she just learned how to swim a couple of weeks ago and while I know the life jacket would keep her afloat, she doesn't yet have that instinct to close her pie hole when the water hits her in the face. Thankfully our friends are an amazing balance of giving her an exciting ride and keeping it tame for my sake. I told Josiah that him being gentle is more for my sake than hers. She is irreplaceable and deeply treasured. Then I politely threatened his life in my sweet southern way.
I rationally know that I am crazy trying to control the universe for the sake of my baby girl, but that won't stop me from trying. It's a tough dance to make sure her life is adventurous and exciting, while keeping her safe and protected. I don't believe that God will keep her safe because He is also a cruel God and takes children all the time. Even the bible shows Him as hard core, so why would He change now just because we wear jeans to church and try to make Him "cool". So, my head case work mainly involves me realizing that I'll deal with that when it comes around. I try and remember the verse "Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10). I'm working on it, but I'm still pretty antsy. In the mean time, Natalia is obsessed with boating, swimming, horse back riding and hard candies. I'll let her have her fun, but in the back of my mind is a constant hum of "protect her airway" and "please don't make me use my Life Flight membership because she's a leveled trauma".
Friday, September 2, 2011
Skating Through Life
It's a big deal for our family to plan an outing every week. We call it "family day" and it is sacred. I have to admit that Jeremy is really the creative director behind most of our outings for this weekly ritual. Our scheduled events not only entertain Natalia, but they pull Jeremy and I out of our adult routine and into some play time. This week we went ice skating, then headed over to the candy store to load up on sugar. Natalia polished off 80% of a gigantic caramel apple. I was impressed since the thing was almost the size of her head and I thought most of it would go to waste. Nope. That's my girl. I had also told her that when I was little I lost a baby tooth to the tenacity of a caramel apple. She repeatedly had us check her grill to make sure her teeth were present and accounted for. You will be relieved to hear there were no dental casualties that day.
Now, I think I've mentioned this before, but ice skating is not one of my favorites because 1. Grace and balance are not my strong points, 2. It's cold and finally 3. Do you know how hard ice feels when you land on it? There's no Downy softness about it. I think the time before this one there was a blood stain on the ice. Seriously, I'm not just trying to be dramatic. Natalia has had two rounds of ice skating lessons and really does just fine. Well, she does about as well as Jeremy and I do. The thing is, she wants to hold a hand because it makes her feel more confident. Now again, my own balance is sketchy, let alone trying to assist her when she's almost as tall as me. It's a bit trickier now than when she was a shorty barely out of toddlerhood. So this time she mostly held daddy's hand and the difference in hand holding vs. freestyle skating was huge. This is what got me thinking.
If Natalia had an analytical adult mind she would see that Jeremy and I "helping" her is more of a liability than a stabilizer. When she would skate on her own with us flanking her to protect her from the speed skaters, she was slow and kept grabbing onto the wall. When she held our hand, she was off to the races and charging ahead. I had to push it to keep up with her. Her trust and faith in us is pretty amazing. I spent a lot of time encouraging her to let go and be confident on her own, but now I wish I would have kept my mommy badger to myself. Someday she won't even ask for us to hold her hand so I think I am just going to enjoy the hand holding for as long as I can.
When it was time to go, she asked if she could skate around the rink a few times by herself while Jeremy and I waited for her on the bleachers. She went around three times on her own, with each time peeking out the door as she slid by to make sure we saw what a big girl she was. There is no doubt in my mind that our little bit of hand holding went a long way. She became confident to let go, and I became confident that I have a child who wants to let go - when she's ready. One of my big mommy worries is making sure I am raising a little girl who will be confident, independent and able to go out and claim her spot in society. I worry a lot. I think I'll work on jacking it down a bit and save my neurosis for something a little more worthwhile, like when she starts dating or driving.
So, here are my hands all ready for holding. I may not be able to keep us both from tripping up, but being present is really what it's all about. You know what really makes me super happy? Natalia has a parental team who is ready to carry her through, flank her for protection and sit it out so she can do it on her own. That is what skating through life is all about.
Now, I think I've mentioned this before, but ice skating is not one of my favorites because 1. Grace and balance are not my strong points, 2. It's cold and finally 3. Do you know how hard ice feels when you land on it? There's no Downy softness about it. I think the time before this one there was a blood stain on the ice. Seriously, I'm not just trying to be dramatic. Natalia has had two rounds of ice skating lessons and really does just fine. Well, she does about as well as Jeremy and I do. The thing is, she wants to hold a hand because it makes her feel more confident. Now again, my own balance is sketchy, let alone trying to assist her when she's almost as tall as me. It's a bit trickier now than when she was a shorty barely out of toddlerhood. So this time she mostly held daddy's hand and the difference in hand holding vs. freestyle skating was huge. This is what got me thinking.
If Natalia had an analytical adult mind she would see that Jeremy and I "helping" her is more of a liability than a stabilizer. When she would skate on her own with us flanking her to protect her from the speed skaters, she was slow and kept grabbing onto the wall. When she held our hand, she was off to the races and charging ahead. I had to push it to keep up with her. Her trust and faith in us is pretty amazing. I spent a lot of time encouraging her to let go and be confident on her own, but now I wish I would have kept my mommy badger to myself. Someday she won't even ask for us to hold her hand so I think I am just going to enjoy the hand holding for as long as I can.
When it was time to go, she asked if she could skate around the rink a few times by herself while Jeremy and I waited for her on the bleachers. She went around three times on her own, with each time peeking out the door as she slid by to make sure we saw what a big girl she was. There is no doubt in my mind that our little bit of hand holding went a long way. She became confident to let go, and I became confident that I have a child who wants to let go - when she's ready. One of my big mommy worries is making sure I am raising a little girl who will be confident, independent and able to go out and claim her spot in society. I worry a lot. I think I'll work on jacking it down a bit and save my neurosis for something a little more worthwhile, like when she starts dating or driving.
So, here are my hands all ready for holding. I may not be able to keep us both from tripping up, but being present is really what it's all about. You know what really makes me super happy? Natalia has a parental team who is ready to carry her through, flank her for protection and sit it out so she can do it on her own. That is what skating through life is all about.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Egg on my Face with a Side of Scam
A lot of being Queen of the Motherhood has to do with being the wife of my darling husband. I'll spare you the birds and the bees talk, but my relationship with Jeremy is the sole reason for her precious soul ending up here in the first place. I know this may rock your world, but sometimes there is civil unrest in Lacowland. "What?!", you say! "Shut the front door! I don't believe it!" Believe it , sister. Now that Jeremy and I have been friends for twenty years, together for seventeen and married for thirteen (yes, I am proud of our numbers), we have our fighting stance down to an art form. The short of it boils down to this: we go to our corners, grow back up, then talk it out. Well, sometimes we pass notes like we did in high school. Hey, this is what works for us, don't judge.
Our story begins with a scam, and I'll tell you what, she had me at Disney. We'll call her Talent Tabby. You see, I told Natalia that I would look into "acting stuff" after she got such a kick out of theater camp this summer. While I was googling my heart out, I came across a legit looking "talent agency" website with multiple branches, listed with the Better Business Bureau, and a bunch of other stuff that frankly just set off my ADD. Just for kicks, I filled out an application and submitted a picture of my little boogerface. A month later I got a call back, we had our interview and the woman loved Natalia (Seriously! Who doesn't?). Talent Tabby liked Natalia so much that she wanted her to have pictures done right away so she could start promoting her in a couple of projects she had coming up for back to school promos. She knew just the photographer and it would only cost us $475. Wait, no $325.
Okay, so now all of you are seeing what I was clearly not seeing when I walked out of her office. Talent Tabby also told me that Disney makes their "made for TV movies" in Salt Lake City and she thought Natalia had that "Disney" look, but just needed some experience under her belt. I am not challenged so much that I don't know Natalia eventually will need head shots if this is something she wants to do, however, she should not have needed them within two days of meeting Talent Tabby. I know, I know.... you are all seeing the scamishness unfolding. I see it too.... now. Totally not the point of the blog, so I'm moving on because it's my blog and I'm totally embarrassed that I was almost taken for a ride.
I was so excited to bring this news to Jeremy. I wanted him to hear me out, listen how we could get a return on our money and how excited Natalia was about all the things Talent Tabby told us. Nothing but crickets, then "We don't have $500 right now". "It's not $500, it's $475, but now has been lowered to $325". Then he gives me that look. It's the one he uses when he's working and all serious and his face looks slightly grey, but not grey like he's going to pass out. "Isn't this the same thing we made fun of your sister for when she was 'trying to be a model' and they took a bunch of money from her and she never did anything with it?" Ouch. I knew right then it was a scam. I also knew right then by the way we were talking to each other that this was not the way we usually discuss decisions. There was something else going on and we were needling each other trying to pick a fight. So far we were doing a fabulous job because I, for one, was clearly getting all fired up.
I hate inefficient fighting. My tactical version of unearthing the root cause was comical, now that I look back on it. It was like this strange screaming version of speed dating, where you list out all your positive attributes and why that person should pick you, but to someone who already HAS picked you. But the scam was what got us back on track in the way of us annoying each other enough to propel ourselves into the real issue. Here's what started the derailment:
I had been required to pick up overtime at work and there was a two week period where I barely saw Jeremy. Remember that "love language" blog? Yep. Our quality time silent treatment bit us in the behind. This topped with some unfinished projects that have been stressing Jeremy out as well and - Kaboom. The perfect catalyst for the yearly Jeremy/Shauna fight. It's kind of like spring cleaning. Okay, ready for the parenting part? Natalia had no idea we were not getting along. No, my little Disney kid is not obtuse, it's just that Jeremy and I always remain respectful to each other, no matter what. Okay, so they are painfully polite, minimal conversations; but to her there never was any civil unrest or insecurity. You see, when Jeremy and I aren't getting along we "go to our corners", grow up, and meet in the middle when we can talk to each other like normal humans again. This sometimes takes quite a few attempts and a few days. Oh, then there are the occasional notes we have to write so we can edit ourselves, but the hardest part is always extending the olive branch.
I talked to Natalia today about what had happened since she walked into the garage when Jeremy and I were extending olive branches. I was crying and we told her we needed some "two time". In the discussion we had later I told her that when daddy and I were "fighting", we never said mean things to each other, but it was the tone he and I were using when we were talking to each other that needed to be fixed. I also told her that sometimes when we get mad at our friends, or when our friends don't see things our way, we need time apart to try and see their side. I took a day and decided, yep. I am getting scammed. Dammit! I hate it when he's right. What's worse (almost), is that he'll never throw it in my face. He just gives me a hug and a kiss and moves on. I'm hoping that through us, she'll learn to fight like a grown up and find someone who knows how to do the same. I swear the key to a good marriage is learning how to fight. It has taken us a long time to get here, but we are better people, a better couple, and better parents for it. This wasn't some Christmas miracle that came to be, there was a sprinkling of professional counseling involved and y'all know how I love those self help books.
So, this initiated a family meeting this week about what a scam is, why people do it (because they are horrible humans), and that it is okay to be disappointed. I let Natalia know that daddy and I are friends and, like all friends, sometimes we don't get along. The important thing is for us to be nice to each other even when we would rather be snotty, and to step away so we can be a better listener. When it comes to the acting thing, well, she'll always be my little actress and God can throw any opportunity He wants her way. I certainly don't want her to be the next LiLo. Just look at her. Lindsay started out all Disney, and now - she can't even push cans of spray tan for a couple of bucks. My dreams for Natalia are bigger than that.
Our story begins with a scam, and I'll tell you what, she had me at Disney. We'll call her Talent Tabby. You see, I told Natalia that I would look into "acting stuff" after she got such a kick out of theater camp this summer. While I was googling my heart out, I came across a legit looking "talent agency" website with multiple branches, listed with the Better Business Bureau, and a bunch of other stuff that frankly just set off my ADD. Just for kicks, I filled out an application and submitted a picture of my little boogerface. A month later I got a call back, we had our interview and the woman loved Natalia (Seriously! Who doesn't?). Talent Tabby liked Natalia so much that she wanted her to have pictures done right away so she could start promoting her in a couple of projects she had coming up for back to school promos. She knew just the photographer and it would only cost us $475. Wait, no $325.
Okay, so now all of you are seeing what I was clearly not seeing when I walked out of her office. Talent Tabby also told me that Disney makes their "made for TV movies" in Salt Lake City and she thought Natalia had that "Disney" look, but just needed some experience under her belt. I am not challenged so much that I don't know Natalia eventually will need head shots if this is something she wants to do, however, she should not have needed them within two days of meeting Talent Tabby. I know, I know.... you are all seeing the scamishness unfolding. I see it too.... now. Totally not the point of the blog, so I'm moving on because it's my blog and I'm totally embarrassed that I was almost taken for a ride.
I was so excited to bring this news to Jeremy. I wanted him to hear me out, listen how we could get a return on our money and how excited Natalia was about all the things Talent Tabby told us. Nothing but crickets, then "We don't have $500 right now". "It's not $500, it's $475, but now has been lowered to $325". Then he gives me that look. It's the one he uses when he's working and all serious and his face looks slightly grey, but not grey like he's going to pass out. "Isn't this the same thing we made fun of your sister for when she was 'trying to be a model' and they took a bunch of money from her and she never did anything with it?" Ouch. I knew right then it was a scam. I also knew right then by the way we were talking to each other that this was not the way we usually discuss decisions. There was something else going on and we were needling each other trying to pick a fight. So far we were doing a fabulous job because I, for one, was clearly getting all fired up.
I hate inefficient fighting. My tactical version of unearthing the root cause was comical, now that I look back on it. It was like this strange screaming version of speed dating, where you list out all your positive attributes and why that person should pick you, but to someone who already HAS picked you. But the scam was what got us back on track in the way of us annoying each other enough to propel ourselves into the real issue. Here's what started the derailment:
I had been required to pick up overtime at work and there was a two week period where I barely saw Jeremy. Remember that "love language" blog? Yep. Our quality time silent treatment bit us in the behind. This topped with some unfinished projects that have been stressing Jeremy out as well and - Kaboom. The perfect catalyst for the yearly Jeremy/Shauna fight. It's kind of like spring cleaning. Okay, ready for the parenting part? Natalia had no idea we were not getting along. No, my little Disney kid is not obtuse, it's just that Jeremy and I always remain respectful to each other, no matter what. Okay, so they are painfully polite, minimal conversations; but to her there never was any civil unrest or insecurity. You see, when Jeremy and I aren't getting along we "go to our corners", grow up, and meet in the middle when we can talk to each other like normal humans again. This sometimes takes quite a few attempts and a few days. Oh, then there are the occasional notes we have to write so we can edit ourselves, but the hardest part is always extending the olive branch.
I talked to Natalia today about what had happened since she walked into the garage when Jeremy and I were extending olive branches. I was crying and we told her we needed some "two time". In the discussion we had later I told her that when daddy and I were "fighting", we never said mean things to each other, but it was the tone he and I were using when we were talking to each other that needed to be fixed. I also told her that sometimes when we get mad at our friends, or when our friends don't see things our way, we need time apart to try and see their side. I took a day and decided, yep. I am getting scammed. Dammit! I hate it when he's right. What's worse (almost), is that he'll never throw it in my face. He just gives me a hug and a kiss and moves on. I'm hoping that through us, she'll learn to fight like a grown up and find someone who knows how to do the same. I swear the key to a good marriage is learning how to fight. It has taken us a long time to get here, but we are better people, a better couple, and better parents for it. This wasn't some Christmas miracle that came to be, there was a sprinkling of professional counseling involved and y'all know how I love those self help books.
So, this initiated a family meeting this week about what a scam is, why people do it (because they are horrible humans), and that it is okay to be disappointed. I let Natalia know that daddy and I are friends and, like all friends, sometimes we don't get along. The important thing is for us to be nice to each other even when we would rather be snotty, and to step away so we can be a better listener. When it comes to the acting thing, well, she'll always be my little actress and God can throw any opportunity He wants her way. I certainly don't want her to be the next LiLo. Just look at her. Lindsay started out all Disney, and now - she can't even push cans of spray tan for a couple of bucks. My dreams for Natalia are bigger than that.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Etiquette by Eight
I really like Natalia. I know most parents adore and love their children, but even if she wasn't my child, I'd still like hanging out with her. I remember when I was taking my pediatrics course in nursing school one of the books stated all the morals and manners imparted on your child need to be instilled before age eight. Let that sink in for a moment - age eight! Being the overly conscientious mother that I am, I have had this in the back of my mind since the day she was born.
This is the reason why I won't let her run up the slide when there are other kids on the playground. When she's the only kid on the play set, have at it. Being the little rule follower that she is, she used to get so upset when other kids weren't as polite during play time. She would come running to me to tattle, and thus began another difficult lesson: I am the mommy of one, not all. It was unnerving for her to learn that the world does not live by one universal standard. I would still throw a stink eye at the mother with the unruly child, but she was usually on a cell phone with no clue of her own voice volume, let alone what her child was up to. See - these playground morals are the basis for adult living.
So, I have one more year to drill home the morals I think she should live by. Sometimes I feel like I am cramming for a final exam. After age eight, she is going to make decisions based on her own personal morality system. I have to just stand back and watch. I'll guide her if she asks - but it's really all up to her.
My clues that I have been doing a good job are as follows: Natalia knows the difference between an art museum and a playground. We were there for two hours yesterday enjoying the shoe exhibit and painting in the family section. She knows to keep her voice dialed on low and not to touch anything. This was difficult even for me when we got to the piece made of ballet shoes, resin, honeycombs and bronze. It was hard not to reach out and touch all those textures. We both showed restraint and discussed whether or not we could get away with a quick touch. Then the suit guy who works there strolled past and we moved on. Bummer.
I love the fact that Natalia will order for herself at a restaurant when we go out. Of course we have taught her the "please and thank you's" of life, but she knows how to speak to adults and to ask for what she wants. It's hard for her sometimes because she expects people to be mind readers. No, the balloon sculptor did not know that she had been eyeing the pink balloon crown for 45 minutes while we waited for a table at a Mexican restaurant. The waiter, however, knew the second we sat our tired bottoms on the booth because Natalia politely asked the waiter to send the balloon guy over. Jeremy and I were so proud (and giggling) because this required no coaching on our part. Up until that point, she usually wanted Jeremy and I to do the asking for her. She got her pink and purple balloon tiara that night, and even handed the guy a tip for doing such a good job. Okay, we did help her out with the tip part. It's not like she's a big baller flashing money around.
As Natalia gets older I can see a glimpse of who she will be as an adult. I like what I see. She is the kind of person who I would pick to have as a friend. She freely passes out compliments, calls me out when I have regressed into a toddler state of mind, and she is easy to be around. All children drive us crazy at some point during the day, but on the whole, she is already an amazing person. My next step will be trust, as in "I trust that I've done all I can to cram in the basics". Eight years is not very long when you think about it. Especially with children who are kind of just blobs of lovin' until age three. I have one more year and then I'll be required to cut another apron string and see what she can do. The mistakes will break my heart while I watch her struggle, but seeing her be her own person will more than make up for it. My love and pride for her are the super glue that fill in the cracks and keeps my life full. I will always love her unconditionally, but I am glad that I like her too.
This is the reason why I won't let her run up the slide when there are other kids on the playground. When she's the only kid on the play set, have at it. Being the little rule follower that she is, she used to get so upset when other kids weren't as polite during play time. She would come running to me to tattle, and thus began another difficult lesson: I am the mommy of one, not all. It was unnerving for her to learn that the world does not live by one universal standard. I would still throw a stink eye at the mother with the unruly child, but she was usually on a cell phone with no clue of her own voice volume, let alone what her child was up to. See - these playground morals are the basis for adult living.
So, I have one more year to drill home the morals I think she should live by. Sometimes I feel like I am cramming for a final exam. After age eight, she is going to make decisions based on her own personal morality system. I have to just stand back and watch. I'll guide her if she asks - but it's really all up to her.
My clues that I have been doing a good job are as follows: Natalia knows the difference between an art museum and a playground. We were there for two hours yesterday enjoying the shoe exhibit and painting in the family section. She knows to keep her voice dialed on low and not to touch anything. This was difficult even for me when we got to the piece made of ballet shoes, resin, honeycombs and bronze. It was hard not to reach out and touch all those textures. We both showed restraint and discussed whether or not we could get away with a quick touch. Then the suit guy who works there strolled past and we moved on. Bummer.
I love the fact that Natalia will order for herself at a restaurant when we go out. Of course we have taught her the "please and thank you's" of life, but she knows how to speak to adults and to ask for what she wants. It's hard for her sometimes because she expects people to be mind readers. No, the balloon sculptor did not know that she had been eyeing the pink balloon crown for 45 minutes while we waited for a table at a Mexican restaurant. The waiter, however, knew the second we sat our tired bottoms on the booth because Natalia politely asked the waiter to send the balloon guy over. Jeremy and I were so proud (and giggling) because this required no coaching on our part. Up until that point, she usually wanted Jeremy and I to do the asking for her. She got her pink and purple balloon tiara that night, and even handed the guy a tip for doing such a good job. Okay, we did help her out with the tip part. It's not like she's a big baller flashing money around.
As Natalia gets older I can see a glimpse of who she will be as an adult. I like what I see. She is the kind of person who I would pick to have as a friend. She freely passes out compliments, calls me out when I have regressed into a toddler state of mind, and she is easy to be around. All children drive us crazy at some point during the day, but on the whole, she is already an amazing person. My next step will be trust, as in "I trust that I've done all I can to cram in the basics". Eight years is not very long when you think about it. Especially with children who are kind of just blobs of lovin' until age three. I have one more year and then I'll be required to cut another apron string and see what she can do. The mistakes will break my heart while I watch her struggle, but seeing her be her own person will more than make up for it. My love and pride for her are the super glue that fill in the cracks and keeps my life full. I will always love her unconditionally, but I am glad that I like her too.
Friday, July 22, 2011
"No" Problem
Sometimes I notice that I want to lapse into the land of "no". It has been a conscious effort ever since Natalia was able to make random requests that I have a good reason why I am saying "no" to something. This means a lot of times I have to tell her I need a minute to think over my answer. It is really easy to just say "no" and keep doing whatever mindless thing I am in the middle of. This ponder was ignited by a Smurf; Smurfette to be specific.
Jeremy and I are on the same front when it comes to how Natalia spends her allowance. She is totally in the infant stages of learning the concept of money and its value. She is allowed to spend her allowance, of course, but she has to put some thought into the purchase and she isn't allowed to deplete her account. She has her own bank account with her very own debit card, since we are a card society. I don't know about you, but I rarely have cash on me because I keep track of my spending better with my card. Her card is in my name, but the bank allows you to add a label to be stamped into it. Natalia was totally stoked when she saw her debit card has "Natalia's Card" stamped right on it. It stays in mommy's wallet.
She told me two days ago that when we had our mommy/daughter day (today) she wanted to buy Smurfette at the Build a Bear. Since I am not a fan of stuffed animals, I started to say "no" and wanted to lecture her about the accumulation Build a Bear paraphernalia that doesn't seem to be played with too often. Instead, I told her I'd think about it and get back with her. Now I only have my own child to go by, but I think it is pretty awesome that she is cool with me thinking it over. She knows that Jeremy and I have been fair with her in the past, so she won't badger or nag me about it until the official judgement day. She knows that even if I say "no", I will explain my reasoning behind my decision. Sure, there are tears shed, hugs needed and time to simmer in her disappointment for a while, but she really does get over it quickly. All that said, Natalia is the proud owner of a Smurfette stuffed "animal" (I'm not really sure what a smurf is, but I hear they are delicious), whom she named Odette.
The other day I started to feel a "no" creeping up on me when she wanted to go outside and paint together. I had to take a moment and remind myself there will always be dirty dishes and laundry, but there won't always be a seven year old who wants to spend time painting together. I knew I would regret my "no" at the water park the other day if I didn't go on the most terrifying water slide ever with her. She had already rode it with daddy, and in the 15 minutes we spent waiting in line, there was never any bloodshed or random amputations. It was fun and I'd do it again. Natalia thought about today's purchase for two days and now is snuggled up peacefully with Odette cradled to her chest. I really didn't have a reason to say "no", and although I wouldn't have regretted a life sans-smurf, I will always cherish the vision of my little girl proudly holding and snuggling the toy she earned.
Jeremy and I are on the same front when it comes to how Natalia spends her allowance. She is totally in the infant stages of learning the concept of money and its value. She is allowed to spend her allowance, of course, but she has to put some thought into the purchase and she isn't allowed to deplete her account. She has her own bank account with her very own debit card, since we are a card society. I don't know about you, but I rarely have cash on me because I keep track of my spending better with my card. Her card is in my name, but the bank allows you to add a label to be stamped into it. Natalia was totally stoked when she saw her debit card has "Natalia's Card" stamped right on it. It stays in mommy's wallet.
She told me two days ago that when we had our mommy/daughter day (today) she wanted to buy Smurfette at the Build a Bear. Since I am not a fan of stuffed animals, I started to say "no" and wanted to lecture her about the accumulation Build a Bear paraphernalia that doesn't seem to be played with too often. Instead, I told her I'd think about it and get back with her. Now I only have my own child to go by, but I think it is pretty awesome that she is cool with me thinking it over. She knows that Jeremy and I have been fair with her in the past, so she won't badger or nag me about it until the official judgement day. She knows that even if I say "no", I will explain my reasoning behind my decision. Sure, there are tears shed, hugs needed and time to simmer in her disappointment for a while, but she really does get over it quickly. All that said, Natalia is the proud owner of a Smurfette stuffed "animal" (I'm not really sure what a smurf is, but I hear they are delicious), whom she named Odette.
The other day I started to feel a "no" creeping up on me when she wanted to go outside and paint together. I had to take a moment and remind myself there will always be dirty dishes and laundry, but there won't always be a seven year old who wants to spend time painting together. I knew I would regret my "no" at the water park the other day if I didn't go on the most terrifying water slide ever with her. She had already rode it with daddy, and in the 15 minutes we spent waiting in line, there was never any bloodshed or random amputations. It was fun and I'd do it again. Natalia thought about today's purchase for two days and now is snuggled up peacefully with Odette cradled to her chest. I really didn't have a reason to say "no", and although I wouldn't have regretted a life sans-smurf, I will always cherish the vision of my little girl proudly holding and snuggling the toy she earned.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
A Purpose Driven Summer
I am a firm believer that everyone needs direction, a hobby, a purpose - something. I know that when I am idle, I just feel so blah. Now that we are in the throws of summer and Natalia finished up her summer camp, I realized that she too, needs a purpose. Hence the birth of the "Natalia To Do List". It's not quite as horrible as it sounds, then again, I'm not seven.
You see, Jeremy and I have started on our summer back yard project. I won't bore you with the details of how this is the second time we have "re-done" our back yard in the four years we have been here. I was trying to take on tree-hole-digging when Natalia started to hover, then she started to whine, then I decided to put her to work so she would have something concrete to whine about. Remember that from our parents? It totally works. I'm sorry, but as cliche as that phrase is, it has been kid tested and mother approved.
Here is the deal: Natalia gets paid $7 a week as her allowance. While she is in school, she earns her allowance by attending school, doing homework, and cleaning up after herself at home. Oh, and basic hygiene. Now that school is out, not only does she have more free time, but she also has to EARN her money. Granted, some of the chores on her list are there for my sake, like: "No whining or throwing tantrums" and "Be independent - you must try to do something three times before you ask for help". The other stuff are real chores, and she totally sucks at them. At least she does right now, but she'll catch on. When Jeremy and I got married he totally sucked at chores too, but there was a longer learning curve. While I wouldn't have called him an "old dog" when we got married, it took him a while to efficiently turn some new tricks, like cleaning, vacuuming, and noticing the clutter all around him. I'm hoping that since I have started early with Natalia that she will pick it up sooner than age 28.
The first time I made this magical chore list, she was so excited and felt so proud when she was finished. She went around the house with her little list in hand and checked things off as she went along. Of course, she checked off the whining/tantrum one first, even though it was still the beginning of the day. She was true to her check mark that day. Since we only do a big chore day once a week, I can tell you that the enthusiasm has worn out now that we are in week three. I knew it wouldn't last, so it's not that I am upset or anything. I just have to tweak the game plan to try and keep things fresh.
I had to step in and help her with the play room this week since it wasn't just a cleaning thing. We went through every cubbie and went all "Clean House" with it. She is really good about getting rid of toys she no longer plays with or has grown out of. She likes the fact that a beloved toy will bring happiness to another little girl. Isn't she sweet?! At some point I think we had the entire contents of her play room in the middle of her floor. I now know where her socks disappear to. I mean, why wouldn't you stash your sock in the play dough cubbie? I tried to coach her along, but left her to her own devices. She couldn't do it. She got so overwhelmed that I found her just sitting on the floor singing to herself. It was a Natalia version of Kanye's "Golddigger" (which she thinks is about picking noses). After I threw a gentle mommy tantrum at her, I went in to help her. She just needed some direction, a purpose if you will. She was more than happy to clean up and organize her own stuff, she just didn't know how to execute the job.
I don't know, I may be deluding myself, but I don't think I rescued her from the perils of Tuesday chores. There are plenty of times even as an adult that I have been overwhelmed and just needed a friend to come around and give me some direction. Hell, that is how I am feeling about the pergola project we have undertaken. It's a delicate balance in parenting to let Natalia struggle without exasperating the child. I am not so delusional, however, that I don't know when she is trying to work me over and get me to do something for her. She does that a lot.
Let's face it, she is in the learning phase when it comes to chores. This means that I have to go behind her when she goes to sleep to re-load the dishwasher and tidy up her bathroom. You would think that my child just split the atom as I congratulate her for a fabulously completed chore list. While I expect her to be able to put things away in my OCD cubbies I have in every drawer and closet, I don't expect her to be a young Martha Stewart. The important thing is that she is an active and responsible member of the family. All hail the "Natalia To Do List".
You see, Jeremy and I have started on our summer back yard project. I won't bore you with the details of how this is the second time we have "re-done" our back yard in the four years we have been here. I was trying to take on tree-hole-digging when Natalia started to hover, then she started to whine, then I decided to put her to work so she would have something concrete to whine about. Remember that from our parents? It totally works. I'm sorry, but as cliche as that phrase is, it has been kid tested and mother approved.
Here is the deal: Natalia gets paid $7 a week as her allowance. While she is in school, she earns her allowance by attending school, doing homework, and cleaning up after herself at home. Oh, and basic hygiene. Now that school is out, not only does she have more free time, but she also has to EARN her money. Granted, some of the chores on her list are there for my sake, like: "No whining or throwing tantrums" and "Be independent - you must try to do something three times before you ask for help". The other stuff are real chores, and she totally sucks at them. At least she does right now, but she'll catch on. When Jeremy and I got married he totally sucked at chores too, but there was a longer learning curve. While I wouldn't have called him an "old dog" when we got married, it took him a while to efficiently turn some new tricks, like cleaning, vacuuming, and noticing the clutter all around him. I'm hoping that since I have started early with Natalia that she will pick it up sooner than age 28.
The first time I made this magical chore list, she was so excited and felt so proud when she was finished. She went around the house with her little list in hand and checked things off as she went along. Of course, she checked off the whining/tantrum one first, even though it was still the beginning of the day. She was true to her check mark that day. Since we only do a big chore day once a week, I can tell you that the enthusiasm has worn out now that we are in week three. I knew it wouldn't last, so it's not that I am upset or anything. I just have to tweak the game plan to try and keep things fresh.
I had to step in and help her with the play room this week since it wasn't just a cleaning thing. We went through every cubbie and went all "Clean House" with it. She is really good about getting rid of toys she no longer plays with or has grown out of. She likes the fact that a beloved toy will bring happiness to another little girl. Isn't she sweet?! At some point I think we had the entire contents of her play room in the middle of her floor. I now know where her socks disappear to. I mean, why wouldn't you stash your sock in the play dough cubbie? I tried to coach her along, but left her to her own devices. She couldn't do it. She got so overwhelmed that I found her just sitting on the floor singing to herself. It was a Natalia version of Kanye's "Golddigger" (which she thinks is about picking noses). After I threw a gentle mommy tantrum at her, I went in to help her. She just needed some direction, a purpose if you will. She was more than happy to clean up and organize her own stuff, she just didn't know how to execute the job.
I don't know, I may be deluding myself, but I don't think I rescued her from the perils of Tuesday chores. There are plenty of times even as an adult that I have been overwhelmed and just needed a friend to come around and give me some direction. Hell, that is how I am feeling about the pergola project we have undertaken. It's a delicate balance in parenting to let Natalia struggle without exasperating the child. I am not so delusional, however, that I don't know when she is trying to work me over and get me to do something for her. She does that a lot.
Let's face it, she is in the learning phase when it comes to chores. This means that I have to go behind her when she goes to sleep to re-load the dishwasher and tidy up her bathroom. You would think that my child just split the atom as I congratulate her for a fabulously completed chore list. While I expect her to be able to put things away in my OCD cubbies I have in every drawer and closet, I don't expect her to be a young Martha Stewart. The important thing is that she is an active and responsible member of the family. All hail the "Natalia To Do List".
Friday, July 8, 2011
The Universal Language
I just finished the book "The Five Love Languages", not because Jeremy and I are having any problems, but because I was curious and my grandma happened to have it in her library. I didn't know this, but she does not like to lend out books from her stash. She loves me enough to have lent it out anyway, but there was a polite warning. She held it very close to her and told me how she knows that I will take VERY good care of it. That's a lot of pressure for a self help book.
I have had a couple of girlfriends tell me that this book is pretty dead on. It was an easy read and oddly enough helped me understand Natalia better. Hello! Bonus. Don't get me wrong, it's not like Jeremy is chopped liver here in Lacow Land, but he and I are in a good place and I've been with him long enough to have a grasp on his personality. I have only known Natalia seven years and let's be honest, she's only really had a solid personality for the past four. Looking back I can see whiffs of her personality when she was a baby/toddler, but it wasn't anything like age three and up.
The good news is all three of us speak the same "love language". I could see how things could get lost in a relationship when you are trying to spend time with someone who wants gifts (you gotta read the book to know the lingo). According to the book, people love in their own language, but need to learn to be bilingual if their "other" speaks a different language. Sounds simple enough. You'll have to let me know since we are all speaking "Quality Time" around here.
I had a little Oprah "ah-ha" moment when I read the small section about children. Here I thought Natalia wanted me to drop everything I was doing and go look at "whatever" because she was an only child. Nope - that's just what we do around here. Come to think of it, Jeremy does that same thing. "Hey, sweet, would you come look at this?" The funny part is that any one of us will drop whatever for the other person, so we can come look at the fascinating object of our love's attention. And here I thought we just all had ADD.
All this got me thinking about how loved I feel around Jeremy and Natalia. My cup runneth over when she and I sit in the park painting together or we all hang out flying kites. I know she feels loved when we show up for her recitals, field days, class parties and karate practices. I prove my love to her every time I snuggle with her before bed, walk to the bathroom with her (yes, at home) because she is scared of being alone, stop to listen to her story about pirates or take time to examine her latest artistic venture. I feel close to my family when we are sitting on the floor playing board games or just walking around the mall. I won't put up any front with you and say I always happily drop everything when these "quality time moments" arise. Sometimes she needs a little too much "love language" when mommy needs the silent treatment.
So this week I got to take a sigh of relief in my normally fretful mommy heart. Natalia will understand how much we love her because we are all speaking the same "love language". Soon she will be grown enough to start up a love conversation with someone else, and it won't be long before she no longer asks "Mommy, can you come be with me?" Nah. She'll always need me to be with her for something. I just hope by then our quality time will no longer involve me chaperoning her to the bathroom.
I have had a couple of girlfriends tell me that this book is pretty dead on. It was an easy read and oddly enough helped me understand Natalia better. Hello! Bonus. Don't get me wrong, it's not like Jeremy is chopped liver here in Lacow Land, but he and I are in a good place and I've been with him long enough to have a grasp on his personality. I have only known Natalia seven years and let's be honest, she's only really had a solid personality for the past four. Looking back I can see whiffs of her personality when she was a baby/toddler, but it wasn't anything like age three and up.
The good news is all three of us speak the same "love language". I could see how things could get lost in a relationship when you are trying to spend time with someone who wants gifts (you gotta read the book to know the lingo). According to the book, people love in their own language, but need to learn to be bilingual if their "other" speaks a different language. Sounds simple enough. You'll have to let me know since we are all speaking "Quality Time" around here.
I had a little Oprah "ah-ha" moment when I read the small section about children. Here I thought Natalia wanted me to drop everything I was doing and go look at "whatever" because she was an only child. Nope - that's just what we do around here. Come to think of it, Jeremy does that same thing. "Hey, sweet, would you come look at this?" The funny part is that any one of us will drop whatever for the other person, so we can come look at the fascinating object of our love's attention. And here I thought we just all had ADD.
All this got me thinking about how loved I feel around Jeremy and Natalia. My cup runneth over when she and I sit in the park painting together or we all hang out flying kites. I know she feels loved when we show up for her recitals, field days, class parties and karate practices. I prove my love to her every time I snuggle with her before bed, walk to the bathroom with her (yes, at home) because she is scared of being alone, stop to listen to her story about pirates or take time to examine her latest artistic venture. I feel close to my family when we are sitting on the floor playing board games or just walking around the mall. I won't put up any front with you and say I always happily drop everything when these "quality time moments" arise. Sometimes she needs a little too much "love language" when mommy needs the silent treatment.
So this week I got to take a sigh of relief in my normally fretful mommy heart. Natalia will understand how much we love her because we are all speaking the same "love language". Soon she will be grown enough to start up a love conversation with someone else, and it won't be long before she no longer asks "Mommy, can you come be with me?" Nah. She'll always need me to be with her for something. I just hope by then our quality time will no longer involve me chaperoning her to the bathroom.
Friday, June 24, 2011
My Joan Crawford Moment
It is rare that I write two blogs in one week, let alone two in one day. I need to vent. Tonight I was a bad parent. My self control was tested by a seven year old and she bested me. Now don't worry - I didn't beat her or call her names. I did yell at her (which I hardly ever do) and I spanked her when she was doing this screaming freak out thing. Then as I held her tight while we stood in the middle of the kitchen, my mind came back to me and I put her to bed. What could cause such a outlandish scene of events? Uncut toe nails.
I believe that every kid has a vice. Something that invokes this irrational fear every time and you know that it is just going to be a battle. Natalia hates getting her toe nails cut. Think of it as her flavor of kryptonite. Jeremy will tell you it is because I cut them too short, but I leave her nails a little on the long side because of this very fear. I have to say that I love short nails. They are clean and neat looking and I usually cut mine shorter than I should. I also have a track record of bleeding dogs half to death with my skills, so I can see where Jeremy would get that idea. You would think he would be captain of the toe nail team. Nope. It still falls on me.
To make things worse, of all the features Natalia has gained from Jeremy, she has Lacow feet. Do you know many seven year old girls who have been told by a Pediatrician that she has bunions? Probably not. They aren't painful,just a little jacked up looking. Natalia's toenails are as crazy as her feet. Example: Her second toe nail curves over and scoops down back into the skin. I can regale you with how much fun it is to try and get the clippers under that bad boy just so I can trim a little off the top. It's a massive freak out for her. She hates to be messed with or picked at anyway, this just takes the cake.
The drama really started with me. What mother in her right mind would attempt this freaky feat (no pun intended) with a seven year old who hasn't eaten since 3pm and got home from the circus with her BFF at almost 11pm? Why I picked this moment is beyond me, but I was a mom on a mission. It turned out to be mission impossible.
First, there was the negotiating, then the distraction attempt, then the tears, more negotiating, more tears, then a screaming match between she and I in the middle of the kitchen. It's a good thing I decided earlier to open all the windows to let the house air out. I'm surprised the police didn't come by to see what all the screaming was about. Even the dog stayed in the other room. He's not as dumb as I thought.
While we are on the subject of who gave which genetic trait, I can tell you that Natalia has my temper. That's why when we both get fired up at the same time it gets stupid. It's not so bad if Jeremy is here to referee, but tonight he was already at work. I know people at work know me as a relatively even and calm person, especially under pressure, but I have a temper and it's ugly. I feel the need to add that having a temper and being abusive are two different things. I may have a temper, but I'm not a tool. I think the catalyst is that she and I are just so much alike in personality that when we clash, it is note worthy. We are both stubborn, always right, emotional, independent and just the right touch of drama to cause a downward spiral.
Finally I got a grip when I watched her crawling like a wild animal from one level of the kitchen counter to the other trying to get away from me so she could attempt to cut her own toe nails. I was afraid she would fall and get hurt because she was so out of control. That would be a great story for the ER. "She fell off the counter while she was throwing a tantrum because she wouldn't let me cut her toe nails". Right lady. When I caught her up in my arms, I set her down and gave her a good spanking on her juicy little cheek. I only use spankings as reset buttons for her. It's a startle to get her out of her immediate freak out and we rarely have to resort to this. I immediately wrapped my arms around her and just held her while we stood in the middle of the kitchen. She was still screaming at me at this point, but at least she was being still. I told her we both needed some "two time" and I scooped her up and brought her to the mommy chair.
She feels so bad and not just because her punishment is sleeping in her own bed tonight and no playdate on Monday. She feels terrible because she thinks I take what she says to heart. When she gets ampped up like this she will worry and fret all night long. Hate me for whatever, but I gave her a small dose of Benadryl to calm her down and help her get some rest. I spent the rest of the evening wiping her tears away and reassuring her that nothing she says hurts my feelings. I understand she doesn't mean any of what is spewing out of her mouth and besides, I'm the Mommy. She could slaughter a compound of baby seals for the sake of watching them die and I would still love her. I would also put her directly into therapy.
Tonight I am a bad mommy because I didn't listen to my inner mommy. The one who tells you your child is too close to the edge right before she falls, the one who looks at your daughter's date and screams "DON'T YOU LET HER GO WITH THAT", the one who said to me "she's tired, wound up, and just ate sugar. Are ya really gonna go there now? Good luck with that". Inner mommy was right.
Toe nails. It all started with Toe nails and they are still uncut.
I believe that every kid has a vice. Something that invokes this irrational fear every time and you know that it is just going to be a battle. Natalia hates getting her toe nails cut. Think of it as her flavor of kryptonite. Jeremy will tell you it is because I cut them too short, but I leave her nails a little on the long side because of this very fear. I have to say that I love short nails. They are clean and neat looking and I usually cut mine shorter than I should. I also have a track record of bleeding dogs half to death with my skills, so I can see where Jeremy would get that idea. You would think he would be captain of the toe nail team. Nope. It still falls on me.
To make things worse, of all the features Natalia has gained from Jeremy, she has Lacow feet. Do you know many seven year old girls who have been told by a Pediatrician that she has bunions? Probably not. They aren't painful,just a little jacked up looking. Natalia's toenails are as crazy as her feet. Example: Her second toe nail curves over and scoops down back into the skin. I can regale you with how much fun it is to try and get the clippers under that bad boy just so I can trim a little off the top. It's a massive freak out for her. She hates to be messed with or picked at anyway, this just takes the cake.
The drama really started with me. What mother in her right mind would attempt this freaky feat (no pun intended) with a seven year old who hasn't eaten since 3pm and got home from the circus with her BFF at almost 11pm? Why I picked this moment is beyond me, but I was a mom on a mission. It turned out to be mission impossible.
First, there was the negotiating, then the distraction attempt, then the tears, more negotiating, more tears, then a screaming match between she and I in the middle of the kitchen. It's a good thing I decided earlier to open all the windows to let the house air out. I'm surprised the police didn't come by to see what all the screaming was about. Even the dog stayed in the other room. He's not as dumb as I thought.
While we are on the subject of who gave which genetic trait, I can tell you that Natalia has my temper. That's why when we both get fired up at the same time it gets stupid. It's not so bad if Jeremy is here to referee, but tonight he was already at work. I know people at work know me as a relatively even and calm person, especially under pressure, but I have a temper and it's ugly. I feel the need to add that having a temper and being abusive are two different things. I may have a temper, but I'm not a tool. I think the catalyst is that she and I are just so much alike in personality that when we clash, it is note worthy. We are both stubborn, always right, emotional, independent and just the right touch of drama to cause a downward spiral.
Finally I got a grip when I watched her crawling like a wild animal from one level of the kitchen counter to the other trying to get away from me so she could attempt to cut her own toe nails. I was afraid she would fall and get hurt because she was so out of control. That would be a great story for the ER. "She fell off the counter while she was throwing a tantrum because she wouldn't let me cut her toe nails". Right lady. When I caught her up in my arms, I set her down and gave her a good spanking on her juicy little cheek. I only use spankings as reset buttons for her. It's a startle to get her out of her immediate freak out and we rarely have to resort to this. I immediately wrapped my arms around her and just held her while we stood in the middle of the kitchen. She was still screaming at me at this point, but at least she was being still. I told her we both needed some "two time" and I scooped her up and brought her to the mommy chair.
She feels so bad and not just because her punishment is sleeping in her own bed tonight and no playdate on Monday. She feels terrible because she thinks I take what she says to heart. When she gets ampped up like this she will worry and fret all night long. Hate me for whatever, but I gave her a small dose of Benadryl to calm her down and help her get some rest. I spent the rest of the evening wiping her tears away and reassuring her that nothing she says hurts my feelings. I understand she doesn't mean any of what is spewing out of her mouth and besides, I'm the Mommy. She could slaughter a compound of baby seals for the sake of watching them die and I would still love her. I would also put her directly into therapy.
Tonight I am a bad mommy because I didn't listen to my inner mommy. The one who tells you your child is too close to the edge right before she falls, the one who looks at your daughter's date and screams "DON'T YOU LET HER GO WITH THAT", the one who said to me "she's tired, wound up, and just ate sugar. Are ya really gonna go there now? Good luck with that". Inner mommy was right.
Toe nails. It all started with Toe nails and they are still uncut.
All that Glitters
Being with Natalia totally adds the glitter to my existence. Now don't get me wrong - Jeremy adds the love, spice and everything nice; but Natalia adds the glitter for sure. I get so excited when I talk to new moms with daughters. I always tell them three key things: Get the book "Girlfriend's Guide to the First Year" by Vicki Iovine, having a child gets so much more fun the older they get, parenting gets so much more tough the older they get. God loves balance, yin and yang, whatever you want to call it. Ya get the good stuff, but ya gotta be on your toes to ward off the potential bad stuff. The stakes get higher when it comes to problems as they get older. Ask any mother of a teenage daughter. I'll think about that tomorrow.
Back to the glitter part. Natalia says she loves to go to the mall, but what she really means is she loves to go to Sephora. She likes Sephora for the same reason she likes Costco on a Saturday. Samples. I have taught her the hygiene basics of makeup sample-ness, then I let her play. Guess who is her favorite makeover client? Yep. Me. And I totally let her "work her magic". Jeremy hangs out in the game shop across the way and we meet in the middle when she and I are finally done. This time when I came out Jeremy looked at me, there was a pregnant pause, then he asked "Did she do that?" She's seven and her makeup skills are just beginning to manifest, so I ended up looking like a bipolar hooker.
Now I don't mind walking around with the fruits of Natalia's makeovers as long as she's with me as my obvious explanation. Trolling around the mall by myself to run into the Hallmark wearing my latest Natalia makeover is kind of a different story. Without my mini-me explanation at my side, I just looked like a crazy person with orange lipstick smeared every which way, one turquoise eyelid, one glittery purple eyelid, and enough blush to think I am a woman up to no good. Maybe I could have pulled that look off at Hot Topic, but not so at the Hallmark store. In her defense, Natalia was very proud of her handiwork and said I look beautiful.
Today Natalia and I got our hair tinseled. This is literally two teenage girls in the mall tying strands of tinsel to our roots. Natalia picked rainbow and I picked gold because I thought it would be quasi-subtle. I just couldn't resist! I want fancy glittery hair too and like I mentioned before, Natalia is my favorite excuse. "Oh yeah, I just did it because Natalia thought it would be special if we both had our hair done." Bull. I did it because I want sparkles in my hair too. I didn't even ask Jeremy if he noticed or liked it. It wouldn't matter - I love it.
The older I get the more I am adamant that I don't have to fit into any "mother mold". I'm not a soccer mom, a OC housewife, a Prozac mom or a helicopter parent. I am Queen Shauna, keeper of Princess Natalia. I will wear lipstick and glitter until I am too demented to remember where I put it in the first place. I'm sure Natalia will hook me up just fine. I want sequined shoes, glitter hair and perfume that smells like sugar cookies and chili peppers. I want to stay young and beautiful forever, do cartwheels and roller skate until I break a hip. I can tell you that I would have aged so much more quickly without Natalia. She gives me the excuse and inspiration to do all of these things, even if I sometimes end up looking like an emotionally unstable woman of ill repute.
Back to the glitter part. Natalia says she loves to go to the mall, but what she really means is she loves to go to Sephora. She likes Sephora for the same reason she likes Costco on a Saturday. Samples. I have taught her the hygiene basics of makeup sample-ness, then I let her play. Guess who is her favorite makeover client? Yep. Me. And I totally let her "work her magic". Jeremy hangs out in the game shop across the way and we meet in the middle when she and I are finally done. This time when I came out Jeremy looked at me, there was a pregnant pause, then he asked "Did she do that?" She's seven and her makeup skills are just beginning to manifest, so I ended up looking like a bipolar hooker.
Now I don't mind walking around with the fruits of Natalia's makeovers as long as she's with me as my obvious explanation. Trolling around the mall by myself to run into the Hallmark wearing my latest Natalia makeover is kind of a different story. Without my mini-me explanation at my side, I just looked like a crazy person with orange lipstick smeared every which way, one turquoise eyelid, one glittery purple eyelid, and enough blush to think I am a woman up to no good. Maybe I could have pulled that look off at Hot Topic, but not so at the Hallmark store. In her defense, Natalia was very proud of her handiwork and said I look beautiful.
Today Natalia and I got our hair tinseled. This is literally two teenage girls in the mall tying strands of tinsel to our roots. Natalia picked rainbow and I picked gold because I thought it would be quasi-subtle. I just couldn't resist! I want fancy glittery hair too and like I mentioned before, Natalia is my favorite excuse. "Oh yeah, I just did it because Natalia thought it would be special if we both had our hair done." Bull. I did it because I want sparkles in my hair too. I didn't even ask Jeremy if he noticed or liked it. It wouldn't matter - I love it.
The older I get the more I am adamant that I don't have to fit into any "mother mold". I'm not a soccer mom, a OC housewife, a Prozac mom or a helicopter parent. I am Queen Shauna, keeper of Princess Natalia. I will wear lipstick and glitter until I am too demented to remember where I put it in the first place. I'm sure Natalia will hook me up just fine. I want sequined shoes, glitter hair and perfume that smells like sugar cookies and chili peppers. I want to stay young and beautiful forever, do cartwheels and roller skate until I break a hip. I can tell you that I would have aged so much more quickly without Natalia. She gives me the excuse and inspiration to do all of these things, even if I sometimes end up looking like an emotionally unstable woman of ill repute.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Mothers, Brides and Diarrhea
As most of you know, I just got back from my two part adventure to Atlanta. The catalyst for me going was to support my girl for her wedding. Armed with a new hot pink dress and some fabulous new shoes, I made my way to the east coast. No one told me that this whole experience would be all about mothers. Let me explain:
First of all there was the obvious stress of me seeing my own mother for the first time in four years. I have been trying to get over my dreams of what I wanted my mom to be like and to just embrace her for what she is able to give. This didn't happen until the end of my trip, but I did manage to find some peace. See, nothing had changed. Even though she hadn't seen me in four years and I had stopped communication with her for around eight months, she still was wrapped up in the drama of my other sister. It was actually a mental sigh of relief to me that I had made the right decision last October. My favorite part of the trip was spending time with my Grandma. She and I stayed up to 1:30 in the morning every night I was there talking about life, motherhood, God and food. It doesn't get much better than that. She hugged me and we cried together while she told me that she would show me the love that my mom just isn't able to show. I told her that I had felt so lost these past months, but now I feel totally anchored. Amazing.
The next part of my story involves a very particular bride, a totally obtuse mother, and a kick ass group of bridesmaids. You see, Julie is a worse "type A" personality than I am. If you talk to my husband, he will tell you that there is no way. Oh yes. Way. I've never seen someone return a pancake for being "too crunchy" or a fried egg for being "too greasy". You gotta know Julie to appreciate this.
That being said, Julie is going through the same journey that I went through with my mom, except Julie's mom is a recovering alcoholic. It breaks my heart to see Julie continue to bless her mom with the hope of a child, only to have her heart broken with disappointment. When most girls dream of their wedding day, the mother is part of that dream. You imagine the loving tears in her eyes when she sees you in that perfect wedding dress (Julie's dress was a total dream), she talks you off the ledge when you start getting a bit bridezilla (all us married girls have been there), and she is your "go to" girl for hugs, support, and all those details that you won't really give a fig about in five years anyway. The mother of the bride is supposed to smile, indulge, and quietly share in your happiest day. Julie's mom did none of this. In fact, the only thing I saw her do was push Julie so far to the edge that the poor girl was thrown into a fit of nausea an hour before her wedding. This of course was cured by me in the only fashion I knew how: A nurse story about someone being sprayed by poop when a patient sneezed. I'm not kidding. Not only did it cure her nausea and make her laugh, all those sweet bridesmaids I just met probably think I'm one of the grossest Barbie looking person they have ever met. Nurse Barbie is usually in a skirt and holding a baby, not in a hazmat outfit covered in poop.
I could tell by Julie's venting and the countless other stories she had regaled to us that she had been awakened from her "perfect mother" dream because of her wedding. I totally know where she is coming from and like I said, it really breaks my heart. Her wedding was the most memorable wedding that I have attended by far, but when it was over and we were packing up the wedding carnage, I hugged her and let her know "this is what family is about".
Family are the people who tell you poop stories to make you laugh, make you eat when you are stressed, gladly spend a small fortune to take part in your beautiful day, offer a getaway car (long story) if you need it, support all of your decisions, erase pictures of you that are unflattering, steal your cell phone so you won't take another call from your mother, and finally who all sing at your wedding when the power goes out so you and your husband can have that special dance together. That is what family is all about.
This trip made me think a lot about the kind of mother I am, and I decided that I am doing a pretty damn good job. Someday that will be Natalia sitting in the bride room, freaking out and about to get dressed into her confection of a bridal gown. I will keep my poop story ready if she needs it because it really is a funny story, I will hire someone to run around like a crazy person so I can be there with her and take it all in, I will offer her a getaway car if she needs it, I will quietly stand in the background and thank God for such a beautiful little girl. Most of all, I will never give anyone the need to tell Natalia that they will stand in my stead to love and cherish her because I am incapable. There isn't a pack of wild bridezillas that could keep me away.
First of all there was the obvious stress of me seeing my own mother for the first time in four years. I have been trying to get over my dreams of what I wanted my mom to be like and to just embrace her for what she is able to give. This didn't happen until the end of my trip, but I did manage to find some peace. See, nothing had changed. Even though she hadn't seen me in four years and I had stopped communication with her for around eight months, she still was wrapped up in the drama of my other sister. It was actually a mental sigh of relief to me that I had made the right decision last October. My favorite part of the trip was spending time with my Grandma. She and I stayed up to 1:30 in the morning every night I was there talking about life, motherhood, God and food. It doesn't get much better than that. She hugged me and we cried together while she told me that she would show me the love that my mom just isn't able to show. I told her that I had felt so lost these past months, but now I feel totally anchored. Amazing.
The next part of my story involves a very particular bride, a totally obtuse mother, and a kick ass group of bridesmaids. You see, Julie is a worse "type A" personality than I am. If you talk to my husband, he will tell you that there is no way. Oh yes. Way. I've never seen someone return a pancake for being "too crunchy" or a fried egg for being "too greasy". You gotta know Julie to appreciate this.
That being said, Julie is going through the same journey that I went through with my mom, except Julie's mom is a recovering alcoholic. It breaks my heart to see Julie continue to bless her mom with the hope of a child, only to have her heart broken with disappointment. When most girls dream of their wedding day, the mother is part of that dream. You imagine the loving tears in her eyes when she sees you in that perfect wedding dress (Julie's dress was a total dream), she talks you off the ledge when you start getting a bit bridezilla (all us married girls have been there), and she is your "go to" girl for hugs, support, and all those details that you won't really give a fig about in five years anyway. The mother of the bride is supposed to smile, indulge, and quietly share in your happiest day. Julie's mom did none of this. In fact, the only thing I saw her do was push Julie so far to the edge that the poor girl was thrown into a fit of nausea an hour before her wedding. This of course was cured by me in the only fashion I knew how: A nurse story about someone being sprayed by poop when a patient sneezed. I'm not kidding. Not only did it cure her nausea and make her laugh, all those sweet bridesmaids I just met probably think I'm one of the grossest Barbie looking person they have ever met. Nurse Barbie is usually in a skirt and holding a baby, not in a hazmat outfit covered in poop.
I could tell by Julie's venting and the countless other stories she had regaled to us that she had been awakened from her "perfect mother" dream because of her wedding. I totally know where she is coming from and like I said, it really breaks my heart. Her wedding was the most memorable wedding that I have attended by far, but when it was over and we were packing up the wedding carnage, I hugged her and let her know "this is what family is about".
Family are the people who tell you poop stories to make you laugh, make you eat when you are stressed, gladly spend a small fortune to take part in your beautiful day, offer a getaway car (long story) if you need it, support all of your decisions, erase pictures of you that are unflattering, steal your cell phone so you won't take another call from your mother, and finally who all sing at your wedding when the power goes out so you and your husband can have that special dance together. That is what family is all about.
This trip made me think a lot about the kind of mother I am, and I decided that I am doing a pretty damn good job. Someday that will be Natalia sitting in the bride room, freaking out and about to get dressed into her confection of a bridal gown. I will keep my poop story ready if she needs it because it really is a funny story, I will hire someone to run around like a crazy person so I can be there with her and take it all in, I will offer her a getaway car if she needs it, I will quietly stand in the background and thank God for such a beautiful little girl. Most of all, I will never give anyone the need to tell Natalia that they will stand in my stead to love and cherish her because I am incapable. There isn't a pack of wild bridezillas that could keep me away.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Moms are Zombies with Better Skin
I would make a horribly frustrated schizophrenic. I just wouldn't be able to handle all the chatter. Ask any mother and she will tell you that being a parent is mentally exhausting starting at about age 18 months. Ask any mother who's child started talking earlier than age one and she will say "What? I'm sorry I wasn't listening." See, I had all these ideas rumbling around my head about a witty or heartfelt blog for this week, but POOF. It was gone the moment Natalia got her snack on. This was all the fortitude she needed for an evening of button pushing, question asking, tear jerking, apologizing, mother hating, mother loving, more question asking, screaming, bipolar kind of evening. It's amazing all she can get accomplished in four hours. I know that schizophrenics hear voices that sound like they are coming from outside of themselves, but do the voices demand their full attention and answers to countless questions? I thought this "why" phase was supposed to be an endearing quality of the terrible twos. We'll just call them the schizophrenic sevens. The title itself sounds like it could be a horror movie. I would play the zombie mom.
Just so you'll have a reference point, here is a sample of the types of conversations (if you would even call it that) that have me fried and longing for 9:30 when I KNOW she will be asleep:
Jeremy: What's the name of the new (cruise) ship?
Me: The Dream.
Natalia: What? What did you say?
Me: I'm sorry babe, I just can't answer another question for at least 5 minutes.
Natalia: Why?
Me: I don't know why. Please just ask daddy.
Natalia: Daddy! What was mommy talking about?
Jeremy: What do you mean?
Natalia: WHAT WAS MOMMY TALKING ABOUT?!
Jeremy: I asked her what the name of the new ship was.
Natalia: What is it?
Jeremy: The Dream.
Natalia: Oh, I thought she said "green", and I didn't know what you guys were talking about. Why did you want to know the name of the new ship?
Jeremy: Because I couldn't remember what it was called.
Natalia: Mommy? Can I have a dessert?
Me: I'm still not answering any more questions. It hasn't been five minutes yet.
Natalia: Why?
You get the picture.
Heaven forbid Jeremy and I try and have a conversation. Not only does Natalia need to add her two cents and tell us whether or not we are mistaken about whatever, if she is listening with only half an ear she asks so many questions that we end up repeating the whole conversation for her and forgetting the point. Yes, we are indulgent parents and include her in our conversations instead of telling her "This is an adult conversation and children are to be seen and not heard" like my parents told me. I learned to listen more carefully if I wanted to know what was going on. I can feel my eyes glazing over by the end of the night because I just can't answer another question. I swear if I was a newborn I would be fast asleep and in a fit of hiccups from total over stimulation. Zzzzzzzzz *hiccup*.
If I had to attest to Natalia's greatest strength (aka superpower) it would be talking. She is very articulate and curious. She is also intuitive and will ask deeper questions than you anticipate (or are ready for) even when you try and keep the conversation cryptic and child appropriate. I wouldn't put money on it, but I'm pretty sure she started talking in understandable English around nine months old. She hasn't stopped since. She was communicating well before she could walk, so that sounds about right. I remember her being in a stroller and still drinking formula when a stranger said "Wow! I can actually understand her." We've never talked "baby" to her, therefore she talks very adult (or her version thereof) back to us, or at us depending on her mood. Oh help me baby Jesus with those moods. Another blog, another time.
When I'm not totally fried from an emotional and exhausted little boogerface I will concede that I love our conversations and how I can talk up to her. She is able to tell me about her first grade gossip, emotional state of the union, dreams, plans for tomorrow, how much she loves me and how happy she is to be a part of the family. I'll read over this in another week and I'll giggle when I think about how my mind became numb because I couldn't take any more of her questions. It will be endearing. I'm her go to girl for answers to the world. She and I will both get some much needed rest tonight and I'll charge up with some Dunkin' Donuts coffee for another day of questions and conversations, but mostly more questions.
Just so you'll have a reference point, here is a sample of the types of conversations (if you would even call it that) that have me fried and longing for 9:30 when I KNOW she will be asleep:
Jeremy: What's the name of the new (cruise) ship?
Me: The Dream.
Natalia: What? What did you say?
Me: I'm sorry babe, I just can't answer another question for at least 5 minutes.
Natalia: Why?
Me: I don't know why. Please just ask daddy.
Natalia: Daddy! What was mommy talking about?
Jeremy: What do you mean?
Natalia: WHAT WAS MOMMY TALKING ABOUT?!
Jeremy: I asked her what the name of the new ship was.
Natalia: What is it?
Jeremy: The Dream.
Natalia: Oh, I thought she said "green", and I didn't know what you guys were talking about. Why did you want to know the name of the new ship?
Jeremy: Because I couldn't remember what it was called.
Natalia: Mommy? Can I have a dessert?
Me: I'm still not answering any more questions. It hasn't been five minutes yet.
Natalia: Why?
You get the picture.
Heaven forbid Jeremy and I try and have a conversation. Not only does Natalia need to add her two cents and tell us whether or not we are mistaken about whatever, if she is listening with only half an ear she asks so many questions that we end up repeating the whole conversation for her and forgetting the point. Yes, we are indulgent parents and include her in our conversations instead of telling her "This is an adult conversation and children are to be seen and not heard" like my parents told me. I learned to listen more carefully if I wanted to know what was going on. I can feel my eyes glazing over by the end of the night because I just can't answer another question. I swear if I was a newborn I would be fast asleep and in a fit of hiccups from total over stimulation. Zzzzzzzzz *hiccup*.
If I had to attest to Natalia's greatest strength (aka superpower) it would be talking. She is very articulate and curious. She is also intuitive and will ask deeper questions than you anticipate (or are ready for) even when you try and keep the conversation cryptic and child appropriate. I wouldn't put money on it, but I'm pretty sure she started talking in understandable English around nine months old. She hasn't stopped since. She was communicating well before she could walk, so that sounds about right. I remember her being in a stroller and still drinking formula when a stranger said "Wow! I can actually understand her." We've never talked "baby" to her, therefore she talks very adult (or her version thereof) back to us, or at us depending on her mood. Oh help me baby Jesus with those moods. Another blog, another time.
When I'm not totally fried from an emotional and exhausted little boogerface I will concede that I love our conversations and how I can talk up to her. She is able to tell me about her first grade gossip, emotional state of the union, dreams, plans for tomorrow, how much she loves me and how happy she is to be a part of the family. I'll read over this in another week and I'll giggle when I think about how my mind became numb because I couldn't take any more of her questions. It will be endearing. I'm her go to girl for answers to the world. She and I will both get some much needed rest tonight and I'll charge up with some Dunkin' Donuts coffee for another day of questions and conversations, but mostly more questions.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
A Bedazzled Childhood
Since Natalia is an only child, I get to go overboard with my planning and enthusiasm regarding all things Natalia. I am more of an idea girl than an action girl, so I sometimes get overwhelmed with getting it all together, but it always works out and Natalia is heavy with the praises that I am "the best mom ever". That's kind of the point - I want her to be wow'd by her childhood. Jeremy thinks I am slightly nutty, but I know he is wow'd too.
This week Natalia's first grade class had their Spring Musical. It's kind of lame because they just stand on bleachers singing a couple of songs. Of course, I would never voice that to Natalia. To her it was like I had just watched Les Miserable. I seriously expected the kind of musicals that you see on TV or read about in her children's books where there are costumes, acting parts and glitter, all preformed on a stage with good lighting. Then I woke up and realized my kid goes to public school where underachievement breeds like promiscuous bunnies. She had been practicing the songs for months now and did a fabulous job. She even sold daddy on the fact that she needed a new dress just for the occasion (that's my girl). Jeremy is learning that we girls need a new dress or pair of shoes to attend the opening of an envelope. After her "performance" I handed her three roses wrapped in paper and tied with a ribbon. She felt so special.
Her birthday is where I really get to go crazy. Being the idea girl I am, I love the planning and themes. Her fourth birthday party was "The Crafty Party" where kids decorated their own birthday cupcakes and picture frames. This was a brilliant party because the kids were entertained by their own goodie bag gifts and I didn't have to buy or decorate a cake. I had Jeremy (the designated photo guy) take each kid's picture, print it out, then put it in the photo frame for them to take home that day.
Then there was the Alice Tea Party where I had the house decked out with card guardsmen I made out of poster board and construction paper, paper roses (some red, some white, some in between) tucked in our silk trees, a camping canopy with paper lanterns hanging from it set up in my dining area, tea service and little flower pots the kids painted and I put a fully bloomed pansy in each one to take home. I, of course, got to be the Queen of Hearts and made all the kids call me "Your Majesty", while Jeremy was the Mad Hatter and wore a hat I made him. It was hilarious. There were 13 kids at this party - it was a bit much.
Last year was Rock Band where the kids came dressed up all punk, the house was decorated in posters and glitter and we had a balloon/magician guy just for good measure. I wore my favorite Jem and the Holograms pink wig and rocked out with the kids since they all get shy on the mic. See! Overboard and fabulous.
This year was my favorite. It was a makeover madness with a team of glam fairies (thanks friends), personalized smocks (made from pillowcases and glued on ribbon trimmings), mani/pedi's with flower filled foot soaking tubs, hair, and makeup. The girls got to chat, drink out of plastic wine glasses, and get pampered for three hours. Thank goodness there was a limit placed on the invitees. Five girls was a handful even when the girl to adult ratio was 1:1.
With every birthday there is a slide show that we put together full of pictures from the past year. It's my favorite part of the year. My thought is this: If I host a fabulous party, you owe me 15 minutes of your life watching pictures of my little boogerface. The slide shows are getting longer every year. I gloat a little inside when the moms tell me how much fun their girls had and how they want a birthday party just like Natalia's. Yes! Even the thank you cards were cool: picture flip books of the party for each girl to remember it all.
I don't just go all out for birthdays and recitals. There are a lot of ways for me to amp things up. Going out as a family becomes "Family Date Night" where we all dress up in our fancy gear to go to a ballet or out to a nice restaurant. This usually involves a princess dress, lip gloss and possibly a new pair of shoes. For our Disneyland trips I have my friend pose as one of the Disney Princesses and call Natalia a couple days before our trip to tell her how excited she is to meet Natalia. Lunch box sandwiches get cut into flower shapes (thank goodness she usually eats hot lunch) and the oranges get faces drawn on the peel. Anything she has to take to school or daycare gets her name on it with glitter paint and a heart to dot the "i". I love it.
Our new mommy/daughter activity is painting. Since I am an undercover artist, I have some of the coolest art toys - special paper; artist quality brushes; oil, acrylic and watercolors; and a myriad of different pencils. We head to the park, lay out a blanket and listen to Tchaikovsky for hours while we paint and chat. Sure she has kid-safe, non-toxic watercolors and markers in her playroom, but it is the mommy stuff that makes it so special. Well, that and the actual mommy.
So far I know she isn't spoiled because there is no sense of entitlement. That is when I'll have to lay off bedazzling her life. So far, so good. It's fun and exciting to show her how special I think she is and it is never a burden. Will I be throwing her a Super Sweet Sixteen where Cee-Lo sings to her onstage at a security filled, invitation only party topped off with a Hummer for her to drive off in? NO. Even if I lived in the land of limitless funds I wouldn't do that. That's just dumb parenting. What I do hope is to fill her mind with the knowledge that I love her, cherish her and hopefully she will pay it forward to her kids someday. My next planning venture involves a vacation with two formal nights AND Disney Princesses. Jeremy - we're gonna need new shoes and dresses!
This week Natalia's first grade class had their Spring Musical. It's kind of lame because they just stand on bleachers singing a couple of songs. Of course, I would never voice that to Natalia. To her it was like I had just watched Les Miserable. I seriously expected the kind of musicals that you see on TV or read about in her children's books where there are costumes, acting parts and glitter, all preformed on a stage with good lighting. Then I woke up and realized my kid goes to public school where underachievement breeds like promiscuous bunnies. She had been practicing the songs for months now and did a fabulous job. She even sold daddy on the fact that she needed a new dress just for the occasion (that's my girl). Jeremy is learning that we girls need a new dress or pair of shoes to attend the opening of an envelope. After her "performance" I handed her three roses wrapped in paper and tied with a ribbon. She felt so special.
Her birthday is where I really get to go crazy. Being the idea girl I am, I love the planning and themes. Her fourth birthday party was "The Crafty Party" where kids decorated their own birthday cupcakes and picture frames. This was a brilliant party because the kids were entertained by their own goodie bag gifts and I didn't have to buy or decorate a cake. I had Jeremy (the designated photo guy) take each kid's picture, print it out, then put it in the photo frame for them to take home that day.
Then there was the Alice Tea Party where I had the house decked out with card guardsmen I made out of poster board and construction paper, paper roses (some red, some white, some in between) tucked in our silk trees, a camping canopy with paper lanterns hanging from it set up in my dining area, tea service and little flower pots the kids painted and I put a fully bloomed pansy in each one to take home. I, of course, got to be the Queen of Hearts and made all the kids call me "Your Majesty", while Jeremy was the Mad Hatter and wore a hat I made him. It was hilarious. There were 13 kids at this party - it was a bit much.
Last year was Rock Band where the kids came dressed up all punk, the house was decorated in posters and glitter and we had a balloon/magician guy just for good measure. I wore my favorite Jem and the Holograms pink wig and rocked out with the kids since they all get shy on the mic. See! Overboard and fabulous.
This year was my favorite. It was a makeover madness with a team of glam fairies (thanks friends), personalized smocks (made from pillowcases and glued on ribbon trimmings), mani/pedi's with flower filled foot soaking tubs, hair, and makeup. The girls got to chat, drink out of plastic wine glasses, and get pampered for three hours. Thank goodness there was a limit placed on the invitees. Five girls was a handful even when the girl to adult ratio was 1:1.
With every birthday there is a slide show that we put together full of pictures from the past year. It's my favorite part of the year. My thought is this: If I host a fabulous party, you owe me 15 minutes of your life watching pictures of my little boogerface. The slide shows are getting longer every year. I gloat a little inside when the moms tell me how much fun their girls had and how they want a birthday party just like Natalia's. Yes! Even the thank you cards were cool: picture flip books of the party for each girl to remember it all.
I don't just go all out for birthdays and recitals. There are a lot of ways for me to amp things up. Going out as a family becomes "Family Date Night" where we all dress up in our fancy gear to go to a ballet or out to a nice restaurant. This usually involves a princess dress, lip gloss and possibly a new pair of shoes. For our Disneyland trips I have my friend pose as one of the Disney Princesses and call Natalia a couple days before our trip to tell her how excited she is to meet Natalia. Lunch box sandwiches get cut into flower shapes (thank goodness she usually eats hot lunch) and the oranges get faces drawn on the peel. Anything she has to take to school or daycare gets her name on it with glitter paint and a heart to dot the "i". I love it.
Our new mommy/daughter activity is painting. Since I am an undercover artist, I have some of the coolest art toys - special paper; artist quality brushes; oil, acrylic and watercolors; and a myriad of different pencils. We head to the park, lay out a blanket and listen to Tchaikovsky for hours while we paint and chat. Sure she has kid-safe, non-toxic watercolors and markers in her playroom, but it is the mommy stuff that makes it so special. Well, that and the actual mommy.
So far I know she isn't spoiled because there is no sense of entitlement. That is when I'll have to lay off bedazzling her life. So far, so good. It's fun and exciting to show her how special I think she is and it is never a burden. Will I be throwing her a Super Sweet Sixteen where Cee-Lo sings to her onstage at a security filled, invitation only party topped off with a Hummer for her to drive off in? NO. Even if I lived in the land of limitless funds I wouldn't do that. That's just dumb parenting. What I do hope is to fill her mind with the knowledge that I love her, cherish her and hopefully she will pay it forward to her kids someday. My next planning venture involves a vacation with two formal nights AND Disney Princesses. Jeremy - we're gonna need new shoes and dresses!
Saturday, May 21, 2011
It's the Smell, Mr Anderson
The other night Natalia woke up with foot pain. She does this a lot, and it makes sense that your bones would hurt when you literally grow two inches a year. Also, I just bought her new shoes a week ago and I have a "fish bowl theory" about this: just like if you put a gold fish in a bigger bowl, he will get bigger; so do Natalia's feet when I buy her bigger shoes. So, I gave her some Motrin and layed down with her in her bed to massage her feet so she could go back to sleep. I don't know why, but she is a sweaty sleeper once she falls into that wonderfully deep sleep that can withstand all sorts of noise. This inculdes the "mommy finishing the dinner dishes in my best Christina Aguilera impersonation" kind of noise. You just can't sing that stuff softly - you gotta belt it out. Any-who, back to the point. When she sweats, she smells. It is that sweet smell that is so very Natalia. I can't tell you what it smells like other than it smells like her. I love it.
Ever since she was four months old, I have been pulling 12 hour shifts as a nurse. Jeremy's parents are unreal and have lovingly, willingly, and indulgently taken care of Natalia while he and I worked so we could have family time on our days off. I have learned to be okay with not seeing her for 3 days out of the week, but oh how I miss her when she is gone. I often go into her room, find her security "pinky" blanket and bury my face in it because it smells like her. My cup runneth over.
Now as wonderful as that sounds, she is seven and doesn't always smell like my sweet little girl. Sometimes she smells downright funky. That's easy enough to fix and she transforms again into my non-funky child with a hint of Pantene. Shower hour is always before bed, so I get to snuggle with her for 20 minutes and just enjoy holding her, talking to her, and trying to memorize the way she smells.
If I had to give up any of my senses it would be taste. Maybe that would cure my addiction to cinnamon/sugar pie crust (just the crust) and nachos. The rest I need in order to imprint Natalia on my heart. My sight to watch her grow and change; my touch to hug and hold her; my ears to hear her songs and all the funny, inspiring, and magical things she says; and my sense of smell. There are no words to describe it, but it is something very tangible to me, with my favorite being the "sweet with a touch of Pantene".
Ever since she was four months old, I have been pulling 12 hour shifts as a nurse. Jeremy's parents are unreal and have lovingly, willingly, and indulgently taken care of Natalia while he and I worked so we could have family time on our days off. I have learned to be okay with not seeing her for 3 days out of the week, but oh how I miss her when she is gone. I often go into her room, find her security "pinky" blanket and bury my face in it because it smells like her. My cup runneth over.
Now as wonderful as that sounds, she is seven and doesn't always smell like my sweet little girl. Sometimes she smells downright funky. That's easy enough to fix and she transforms again into my non-funky child with a hint of Pantene. Shower hour is always before bed, so I get to snuggle with her for 20 minutes and just enjoy holding her, talking to her, and trying to memorize the way she smells.
If I had to give up any of my senses it would be taste. Maybe that would cure my addiction to cinnamon/sugar pie crust (just the crust) and nachos. The rest I need in order to imprint Natalia on my heart. My sight to watch her grow and change; my touch to hug and hold her; my ears to hear her songs and all the funny, inspiring, and magical things she says; and my sense of smell. There are no words to describe it, but it is something very tangible to me, with my favorite being the "sweet with a touch of Pantene".
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
In the Beginning.....
I had a couple of agendas in mind when I started writing this blog. It is a brag board, a diary, a release, and a story for Natalia to take with her when she has her own children someday. Eventually I will have these printed into a book for her. Being the egocentric humans that we naturally are, I know she will love reading about herself and her family.
It is with this understanding that I am writing the story of how Jeremy and I met and fell in love. This is my own personal fairy tale. I have a piece of wall art in our kitchen that I bought when the three of us finally moved out to Boise and moved into our first house. It reads "All because two people fell in love". My family is my heart and it all started with Jeremy and a list.
When I was in middle school my mother married a man she met at church who came from "a good church family". He ended up being an alcoholic heroine addict who hit her and screamed at all of us. On a funny note, because of his excessive drug use he had lost all of his teeth and had dentures. Whenever he would yell at me they would kind of pop out of his mouth. It was really funny to watch. He was such a ridiculous person. Because of him being such a tool, I decided to make a list when I was about 15 of the kind of attributes I wanted for a husband. I can't remember all of them, but some of them were: Able to pick me up (check), a believer in God (working on it), doesn't hit (check), doesn't yell at me or call me names (check), has a job (check). There were others, but these are some of the highlights. It was only living through what I knew I didn't want that I received the clarity to find what I do want. Keep this checklist in the back of your mind.
1990 was my freshman year of high school. I carried over my BFF from middle school and went over to her house to play. The easiest way to get to Andria's house was to cut through another neighborhood, which had a lot of other kids that were also in my freshman class. I met Jeremy my first week of high school. Now did I gaze into his eyes and think "Holy Cow, I'm going to marry that boy!" Of course not. It may be The South, but child brides were so passe even in the 90's. I did think he was nice and he showed some interest in me. I really loved male attention, so it didn't take a lot of chasing to reel me in. This was also helped along by my friend Hope who said "Have Jeremy walk you home". That was how we met.
We dated for a month and a half, I broke up with him because he was "too nice" (I hadn't made the list yet) and I felt a bit smothered by his affections. We stayed friends. No seriously, we really did. I would complain to him about boyfriends (I'm sure he loved that), would borrow his clothes, and when the group would hang out, it never felt weird. I always referred to him as "My Jeremy". We dated again for a whopping 24 hours. He paid for me to get into Six Flags, but by the end of the day I felt like he liked me too much and felt smothered again (where the hell is that list!). I broke up with him that night and started dating another kid the same evening via telephone. He was a sophomore and I thought I was the shizzle. In a couple weeks I broke up with him too. Jeremy was heart broken, felt totally used, and no longer wanted to have anything to do with me or my fickle friendship.
Skip ahead to our Junior year of high school. I had an English class with Jeremy and all of a sudden I saw him in a different light. As in the "OMG, what happened to him over the summer" kind of light. Jeremy was hot. Braces and all - hotness. He was still "My Jeremy", he just didn't know it yet.
By the time our Senior year of High School rolled around Jeremy was running with a different group, but he and I would still talk on the phone every once in a while. We would hang out and do things as friends, but it was just for fun. He asked me to The Nutcracker during the holidays, but it was totally a B-list kind of thing if his first date didn't work out. He knew it would hurt my feelings a bit. That was the point. By spring we had started hanging out a lot more and I finally got the courage to ask him to prom via a very courageous note I stuck in his jacket pocket at the end of our date. He purposely didn't get back with me so I had to call to get my answer. He was a very fabulous prom date and we have been an item ever since.
It was hard when I went away to college in Nashville. He asked me to stay in Georgia, but I told him this decision was made before my decision to date him. This was a big deal for me because usually I would bend my entire life to conform to whatever boyfriend I had at the moment. It was a hard year and a half, but we realized that we really loved each other and didn't want to be with anyone else. I decided after three semesters in Nashville that I would move back to Georgia where school and boarding (aka mom's house) were cheeper and finish my education there. Because I didn't have a car, Jeremy was my back and forth transport from Tennessee to Georgia and vice versa. When he came to pick me up he was acting so weird. My first thought was that he was about to break up with me since I was moving back. I kind of deserved it after how poorly I treated him in high school. Then he started into this speech about how me moving back was starting this new life and blah, blah, blah. That's when he got down on one knee in my dingy prison cell sized dorm room to ask me to marry him. I had been dropping not so subtle hints for months about wanting us to get married. Of course I said 'yes'. By this time I had gone over the checklist a hundred times in my mind. He was it. He is it. He's my perfect match.
The rest is the craziness of wedding plans, more school, more jobs, a rough-go with our marriage when we lived separately and almost called it quits, and a surprise that changed our marriage and who we are. Our little boogerface. I don't regret that rough-go at all because it made us both grow up and appreciate each other. When I was seven months pregnant with Natalia, Jeremy and I renewed our wedding vows. This time as adults who understood that "for better or for worse" was a catch all promise. I will gladly take that 10% of worse for my 90% of better. Every struggle has its place, every unanswered prayer has its purpose.
Now I get to live out my fairy tale every day. I have a husband who can pick me up physically and emotionally; he believes in God in his own way; he has never hit me, pushed me, or used intimidation; has a steady job and takes pride in supporting his family; and I can count on one hand how many times we have yelled at each other in the 17 years we have been together. I can honestly say that he is the best part of my day and will always and forever be My Jeremy.
It is with this understanding that I am writing the story of how Jeremy and I met and fell in love. This is my own personal fairy tale. I have a piece of wall art in our kitchen that I bought when the three of us finally moved out to Boise and moved into our first house. It reads "All because two people fell in love". My family is my heart and it all started with Jeremy and a list.
When I was in middle school my mother married a man she met at church who came from "a good church family". He ended up being an alcoholic heroine addict who hit her and screamed at all of us. On a funny note, because of his excessive drug use he had lost all of his teeth and had dentures. Whenever he would yell at me they would kind of pop out of his mouth. It was really funny to watch. He was such a ridiculous person. Because of him being such a tool, I decided to make a list when I was about 15 of the kind of attributes I wanted for a husband. I can't remember all of them, but some of them were: Able to pick me up (check), a believer in God (working on it), doesn't hit (check), doesn't yell at me or call me names (check), has a job (check). There were others, but these are some of the highlights. It was only living through what I knew I didn't want that I received the clarity to find what I do want. Keep this checklist in the back of your mind.
1990 was my freshman year of high school. I carried over my BFF from middle school and went over to her house to play. The easiest way to get to Andria's house was to cut through another neighborhood, which had a lot of other kids that were also in my freshman class. I met Jeremy my first week of high school. Now did I gaze into his eyes and think "Holy Cow, I'm going to marry that boy!" Of course not. It may be The South, but child brides were so passe even in the 90's. I did think he was nice and he showed some interest in me. I really loved male attention, so it didn't take a lot of chasing to reel me in. This was also helped along by my friend Hope who said "Have Jeremy walk you home". That was how we met.
We dated for a month and a half, I broke up with him because he was "too nice" (I hadn't made the list yet) and I felt a bit smothered by his affections. We stayed friends. No seriously, we really did. I would complain to him about boyfriends (I'm sure he loved that), would borrow his clothes, and when the group would hang out, it never felt weird. I always referred to him as "My Jeremy". We dated again for a whopping 24 hours. He paid for me to get into Six Flags, but by the end of the day I felt like he liked me too much and felt smothered again (where the hell is that list!). I broke up with him that night and started dating another kid the same evening via telephone. He was a sophomore and I thought I was the shizzle. In a couple weeks I broke up with him too. Jeremy was heart broken, felt totally used, and no longer wanted to have anything to do with me or my fickle friendship.
Skip ahead to our Junior year of high school. I had an English class with Jeremy and all of a sudden I saw him in a different light. As in the "OMG, what happened to him over the summer" kind of light. Jeremy was hot. Braces and all - hotness. He was still "My Jeremy", he just didn't know it yet.
By the time our Senior year of High School rolled around Jeremy was running with a different group, but he and I would still talk on the phone every once in a while. We would hang out and do things as friends, but it was just for fun. He asked me to The Nutcracker during the holidays, but it was totally a B-list kind of thing if his first date didn't work out. He knew it would hurt my feelings a bit. That was the point. By spring we had started hanging out a lot more and I finally got the courage to ask him to prom via a very courageous note I stuck in his jacket pocket at the end of our date. He purposely didn't get back with me so I had to call to get my answer. He was a very fabulous prom date and we have been an item ever since.
It was hard when I went away to college in Nashville. He asked me to stay in Georgia, but I told him this decision was made before my decision to date him. This was a big deal for me because usually I would bend my entire life to conform to whatever boyfriend I had at the moment. It was a hard year and a half, but we realized that we really loved each other and didn't want to be with anyone else. I decided after three semesters in Nashville that I would move back to Georgia where school and boarding (aka mom's house) were cheeper and finish my education there. Because I didn't have a car, Jeremy was my back and forth transport from Tennessee to Georgia and vice versa. When he came to pick me up he was acting so weird. My first thought was that he was about to break up with me since I was moving back. I kind of deserved it after how poorly I treated him in high school. Then he started into this speech about how me moving back was starting this new life and blah, blah, blah. That's when he got down on one knee in my dingy prison cell sized dorm room to ask me to marry him. I had been dropping not so subtle hints for months about wanting us to get married. Of course I said 'yes'. By this time I had gone over the checklist a hundred times in my mind. He was it. He is it. He's my perfect match.
The rest is the craziness of wedding plans, more school, more jobs, a rough-go with our marriage when we lived separately and almost called it quits, and a surprise that changed our marriage and who we are. Our little boogerface. I don't regret that rough-go at all because it made us both grow up and appreciate each other. When I was seven months pregnant with Natalia, Jeremy and I renewed our wedding vows. This time as adults who understood that "for better or for worse" was a catch all promise. I will gladly take that 10% of worse for my 90% of better. Every struggle has its place, every unanswered prayer has its purpose.
Now I get to live out my fairy tale every day. I have a husband who can pick me up physically and emotionally; he believes in God in his own way; he has never hit me, pushed me, or used intimidation; has a steady job and takes pride in supporting his family; and I can count on one hand how many times we have yelled at each other in the 17 years we have been together. I can honestly say that he is the best part of my day and will always and forever be My Jeremy.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Time-Outs For Everyone
It's no shocker that I think my daughter is exceptionally cute and funny. She imparted her seven year old wisdom on me last night while I was contributing to her nightly bedtime routine. She had thrown a very emotional tantrum that was exacerbated by me trying to talk to her. Of course, I gave up the talking part and had Jeremy get her ready for bed because I am a total coward and just couldn't effectively manage her drama for another second. This was her wisdom that she gifted me when I went to tuck her in: "Mommy, sometimes when I get mad, all I can hear is 'blah, blah, blah' and it makes me more frustrated. I need some time without any talking, but I didn't know how to say it because of you still doing the 'blah, blah, blah'." My response was "Okay, let's think of a code word for you to use so I know you need some quiet time and we'll talk again later." She came up with "Two Time", because she said she needs two minutes of silence. I am totally going to steal that idea from her because it is brilliant.
How many times in my day do I wish I could just tell someone "I need Two Time, please" so they would stop with the blah, blah, blah. I am a big fan of putting myself in time-out when I feel like I am losing my cool and about to do or say something I will regret. Granted, I don't always take this sage advice, but I try. Hey, even moms need a time-out to rethink our attitudes.
Now I would like to think that I am a more eloquent speaker than "blah, blah, blah", but then I need to consider my audience. A tired seven year old is not the ideal demographic for an inspiring lecture of the day regarding how she needs to evaluate if Shayley is really a good friend when she makes up a tattle about Natalia to tell the teacher. My goal was for her to understand that the people we surround ourselves with have a profound effect on our lives, but she was tired and getting over some sort of respiratory funk. Bottom line - she wasn't in the mood for a lecture and needed some "Two Time".
One of my (many) fears about being a good mother is that Natalia won't feel like she can confide in me and I'll get shut out of her inner Natalia. I don't want to be one of those parents who says "Not MY child! She would NEVER do that!" I see parents who are blown away by some of the things their kid does because they have lost touch with who their kid really is. I am not so delusional that I don't know nagging my child will not make her eager to open up to me about friends and drama. There will be times when she will ask for my advice and decide upon hearing it that I am a total idiot who has no clue about anything. I assume this will be when she learns to properly use mascara and no longer sings princess songs. Some of my best childhood memories are when I would sit on the end of my mom's bed and pour my heart out. She even managed to keep her cool when I told her I was thinking of doing the hippity-dippity with my boyfriend. I was 15, she laid out some good advice, I kept my 'V' card for a few more years and never regretted my choice. What is amazing is she never asked me after that what I had decided.
In the meantime, I have a few more years before the talks get that heavy. I have time to perfect my "blah, blah, blah" into something that is a little more non-naggish. Besides, if my child at seven can articulate that she needs a time-out to gather her thoughts and cool her drama, I think she's smart enough to figure some things out on her own. All moms understand the feeling of watching your child struggle while your chest tightens up and you hold your breath. It is a physical embodiment of trying to reign in all that emotion of wanting to help and fix. All she really needs is "Two Time" so she can get it together on her own.
How many times in my day do I wish I could just tell someone "I need Two Time, please" so they would stop with the blah, blah, blah. I am a big fan of putting myself in time-out when I feel like I am losing my cool and about to do or say something I will regret. Granted, I don't always take this sage advice, but I try. Hey, even moms need a time-out to rethink our attitudes.
Now I would like to think that I am a more eloquent speaker than "blah, blah, blah", but then I need to consider my audience. A tired seven year old is not the ideal demographic for an inspiring lecture of the day regarding how she needs to evaluate if Shayley is really a good friend when she makes up a tattle about Natalia to tell the teacher. My goal was for her to understand that the people we surround ourselves with have a profound effect on our lives, but she was tired and getting over some sort of respiratory funk. Bottom line - she wasn't in the mood for a lecture and needed some "Two Time".
One of my (many) fears about being a good mother is that Natalia won't feel like she can confide in me and I'll get shut out of her inner Natalia. I don't want to be one of those parents who says "Not MY child! She would NEVER do that!" I see parents who are blown away by some of the things their kid does because they have lost touch with who their kid really is. I am not so delusional that I don't know nagging my child will not make her eager to open up to me about friends and drama. There will be times when she will ask for my advice and decide upon hearing it that I am a total idiot who has no clue about anything. I assume this will be when she learns to properly use mascara and no longer sings princess songs. Some of my best childhood memories are when I would sit on the end of my mom's bed and pour my heart out. She even managed to keep her cool when I told her I was thinking of doing the hippity-dippity with my boyfriend. I was 15, she laid out some good advice, I kept my 'V' card for a few more years and never regretted my choice. What is amazing is she never asked me after that what I had decided.
In the meantime, I have a few more years before the talks get that heavy. I have time to perfect my "blah, blah, blah" into something that is a little more non-naggish. Besides, if my child at seven can articulate that she needs a time-out to gather her thoughts and cool her drama, I think she's smart enough to figure some things out on her own. All moms understand the feeling of watching your child struggle while your chest tightens up and you hold your breath. It is a physical embodiment of trying to reign in all that emotion of wanting to help and fix. All she really needs is "Two Time" so she can get it together on her own.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Who Ya Gonna Call?
This has been one of those parenting weeks when I realize I have no clue what I am supposed to be doing or how I am supposed to be reacting. Okay here is the back story and since it is my blog - it's a long story. All of my stories always are.
I am pretty sure we have a ghost in our house. Now before you start judging me as crazy-pants, let me explain why. I have seen him twice, in my room, scaring the hell out of me; and Natalia has seen him twice too. It is easy to think an adult is full of it, but Natalia holds a bit more weight since she is super cute and a horrible liar.
A little over a year ago Natalia was getting ready for kindergarten in her bathroom. Her bathroom lies between her room and another bedroom which we made into a playroom. Can you tell she is an only child? She has her own wing of the house. When I came into the bathroom from our kitchen to make sure she was actually brushing her teeth she looked at me funny and asked me if daddy had just walked by. Jeremy was sleeping in our bedroom on the other side of the house from her, and since I was in the kitchen in the middle of the house I knew he wasn't up yet. I told her 'no', then asked her 'why?'. She told me she saw a man walk from her bedroom into the playroom. I immediately got a chill. I told her it was probably Chance. Now, we have a pretty big and talented dog, but he doesn't walk on his hind legs like a circus animal. I was fetching for a good explanation. She adamantly told me it was a person - specifically a man. She also told me that sometimes she sees a person in her room who watches her when she sleeps. Creeeeeepy. I asked her if it bothers her and she told me she doesn't like it, but goes back to sleep. We had a deep, spiritual talk about how our bodies are like cars and our spirits are like the driver. When the car gets old or broken, the spirit leaves and then we don't really know for sure what happens next. She was cool with that, told me maybe it was my Grandpa Derr who she renamed Grandpa Dirt, and went to bed that night peacefully.
I have felt a couple of times since we have moved here that I am not always in the room by myself. Then I think I am just a flaky nut and need to cut back on my zombie/possession movie intake.
A month ago I decided to get off of Ambien which I had been on nightly for five years. Yes, this has a point in the story. I used melatonin to help me do this, but then realized it is a nightmare in a bottle and gave it to a friend. It gave me some crazy, vivid nightmares. I am a nightmare kind of girl though. Always have been and I really should write them down and sell them to Hollywood because there have been some pretty good ones. The point is that I know the difference between when I am in a nightmare and when I am awake. I just know. I am not caught in the Matrix, unable to differentiate my reality. That being said, I was totally willing to say I had a melatonin induced, Ambien-free nightmare when I woke up and saw the shadowy silhouette of a man standing at the foot of my bed. I screamed a bit and turned on the light. I NEVER move about in my nightmares. I may talk a lot when I am sleeping, but I am not a mover and a shaker. I had been awake.
This happened again about a week and half later, although this time I am certain I was totally awake, without a doubt. Jeremy was home that night and was in the office on the computer. He stays up late the night before he has his run of night shifts so he can jump into his four day nocturnal-ness. I woke up and saw a man standing next to his side of the bed and said "Hey sweet, what do you need?" thinking that Jeremy had come in to ask me a question. Usually these question have to do with where I hid the children's Motrin because Natalia gets a lot of leg cramps in the middle of the night. After I asked this, the man leaned closer towards me and I realized this was not Jeremy. There were no discernable features, but it was a man around six feet tall. The lean-in wasn't something menacing, but almost like he was surprised I was talking to him. Yep. Scared the crapola out of me so I bravely screamed and turned on the light. This was the same time that Jeremy was with Natalia because she had just had a nightmare. Poor Jeremy. He's trying to figure out how to console one girl, while his other girl let out a scream in the other room. I'm sure he thinks he lives in the House of Crazy, but is too loving and polite to say so.
I told him what I saw and his first response is "We don't have a ghost."
This week made me a believer. Natalia is an early riser, so our new family rule is: You can wake up early, but don't wake me up and you can't eat chips and fruit snacks for breakfast. She has always been afraid of being in any of the rooms by herself, so she has mastered the art of placing the pinch collar on the dog and corralling him wherever she needs him to be. She and Chance were in the bathroom that morning and she walked out to go into the office to play on the computer. As she was walking by the kitchen she saw a man "like daddy, but with hair wearing a brown robe" walk into the pantry and she said she could see through him. She then went into the office and layed down with the dog on his dog bed. I was wondering why she was sitting in front of my door (with the dog sporting his pinch collar) when I woke up. That just goes to show you that sleep deprived mommies are more scary than apparitions.
She told me what happened, I internally freaked out and fixed her some pancakes and finished our normal before school routine. That evening when we had a family discussion about it she said, and I quote "My imagination is really powerful, so it may have been that, but I saw him daddy. I could see him, but see through him." Like I said earlier, she's a horrible liar and is awfully analytical with her take on the situation. This big-girl response was a bit impressive to Jeremy and I.
I want to clarify that I am a spiritual kind of girl. As in biblically spiritual, not new age stuff. I am a believer in prayer, so after my creepy shadow guy and a long talk with my sister-in-law, I went through each room of the house, said a prayer and asked him to leave. I felt pretty good. Then Natalia upset my apple cart. Our mommy chair talk that night was a bit tough. She didn't want to talk about it because it scared her, then she said she thought maybe it was an angel without wings to protect us. Some of that talk was drawn from previous mommy chair discussions. I recently, in my own mind, surrendered my family to God. What that means to me is that I am going to try my darndest to give up my control freak nature and believe that someone bigger, smarter, and more powerful than my 5'3" frame has my family under control. This is testing that to the max.
I played with the idea of finding a medium to come in and maybe give me an answer of who this is, what he wants, and how to show him the exit. I ultimately decided against this path because I don't want a medium to give any other spirits the idea that this would be a cool place to hang out. I decided to go the prayer route. We have a neighbor who is ordained by his church come over and pray with us to bless our house. If I am really surrendering my family and giving up control - here is my test of faith. Nick is very nice and suggested the next time I see him I should try and ask him what he needs. I can't imagine I'll get past the screaming part.
While I do feel better after the blessing, I am still uneasy about the whole situation. My job as a mom is to practice my duck swim that I have mentioned many times before: calm on the surface even when I am paddling like hell underneath. My mom has seen ghosts before, this isn't my first rodeo with seeing one, and now Natalia sees them. I am starting to see a pattern. In my heart I know I am a reasonable and sane human being, although telling this makes me feel and sound a little crazy-pants. I refuse to give into any drama that might be absorbed by my little seven year old sponge. She has totally moved on to her next childhood drama (she is on Zachary's crush list - can you see my eyes rolling?) and doesn't seem undully scarred or scared. This blog is my way of purging the story and moving on to my next drama: Do we go with the older Disney cruise, or save money and go on a new and bigger ship without the Disney magic? Who am I kidding? I'm still freaked out.
I am pretty sure we have a ghost in our house. Now before you start judging me as crazy-pants, let me explain why. I have seen him twice, in my room, scaring the hell out of me; and Natalia has seen him twice too. It is easy to think an adult is full of it, but Natalia holds a bit more weight since she is super cute and a horrible liar.
A little over a year ago Natalia was getting ready for kindergarten in her bathroom. Her bathroom lies between her room and another bedroom which we made into a playroom. Can you tell she is an only child? She has her own wing of the house. When I came into the bathroom from our kitchen to make sure she was actually brushing her teeth she looked at me funny and asked me if daddy had just walked by. Jeremy was sleeping in our bedroom on the other side of the house from her, and since I was in the kitchen in the middle of the house I knew he wasn't up yet. I told her 'no', then asked her 'why?'. She told me she saw a man walk from her bedroom into the playroom. I immediately got a chill. I told her it was probably Chance. Now, we have a pretty big and talented dog, but he doesn't walk on his hind legs like a circus animal. I was fetching for a good explanation. She adamantly told me it was a person - specifically a man. She also told me that sometimes she sees a person in her room who watches her when she sleeps. Creeeeeepy. I asked her if it bothers her and she told me she doesn't like it, but goes back to sleep. We had a deep, spiritual talk about how our bodies are like cars and our spirits are like the driver. When the car gets old or broken, the spirit leaves and then we don't really know for sure what happens next. She was cool with that, told me maybe it was my Grandpa Derr who she renamed Grandpa Dirt, and went to bed that night peacefully.
I have felt a couple of times since we have moved here that I am not always in the room by myself. Then I think I am just a flaky nut and need to cut back on my zombie/possession movie intake.
A month ago I decided to get off of Ambien which I had been on nightly for five years. Yes, this has a point in the story. I used melatonin to help me do this, but then realized it is a nightmare in a bottle and gave it to a friend. It gave me some crazy, vivid nightmares. I am a nightmare kind of girl though. Always have been and I really should write them down and sell them to Hollywood because there have been some pretty good ones. The point is that I know the difference between when I am in a nightmare and when I am awake. I just know. I am not caught in the Matrix, unable to differentiate my reality. That being said, I was totally willing to say I had a melatonin induced, Ambien-free nightmare when I woke up and saw the shadowy silhouette of a man standing at the foot of my bed. I screamed a bit and turned on the light. I NEVER move about in my nightmares. I may talk a lot when I am sleeping, but I am not a mover and a shaker. I had been awake.
This happened again about a week and half later, although this time I am certain I was totally awake, without a doubt. Jeremy was home that night and was in the office on the computer. He stays up late the night before he has his run of night shifts so he can jump into his four day nocturnal-ness. I woke up and saw a man standing next to his side of the bed and said "Hey sweet, what do you need?" thinking that Jeremy had come in to ask me a question. Usually these question have to do with where I hid the children's Motrin because Natalia gets a lot of leg cramps in the middle of the night. After I asked this, the man leaned closer towards me and I realized this was not Jeremy. There were no discernable features, but it was a man around six feet tall. The lean-in wasn't something menacing, but almost like he was surprised I was talking to him. Yep. Scared the crapola out of me so I bravely screamed and turned on the light. This was the same time that Jeremy was with Natalia because she had just had a nightmare. Poor Jeremy. He's trying to figure out how to console one girl, while his other girl let out a scream in the other room. I'm sure he thinks he lives in the House of Crazy, but is too loving and polite to say so.
I told him what I saw and his first response is "We don't have a ghost."
This week made me a believer. Natalia is an early riser, so our new family rule is: You can wake up early, but don't wake me up and you can't eat chips and fruit snacks for breakfast. She has always been afraid of being in any of the rooms by herself, so she has mastered the art of placing the pinch collar on the dog and corralling him wherever she needs him to be. She and Chance were in the bathroom that morning and she walked out to go into the office to play on the computer. As she was walking by the kitchen she saw a man "like daddy, but with hair wearing a brown robe" walk into the pantry and she said she could see through him. She then went into the office and layed down with the dog on his dog bed. I was wondering why she was sitting in front of my door (with the dog sporting his pinch collar) when I woke up. That just goes to show you that sleep deprived mommies are more scary than apparitions.
She told me what happened, I internally freaked out and fixed her some pancakes and finished our normal before school routine. That evening when we had a family discussion about it she said, and I quote "My imagination is really powerful, so it may have been that, but I saw him daddy. I could see him, but see through him." Like I said earlier, she's a horrible liar and is awfully analytical with her take on the situation. This big-girl response was a bit impressive to Jeremy and I.
I want to clarify that I am a spiritual kind of girl. As in biblically spiritual, not new age stuff. I am a believer in prayer, so after my creepy shadow guy and a long talk with my sister-in-law, I went through each room of the house, said a prayer and asked him to leave. I felt pretty good. Then Natalia upset my apple cart. Our mommy chair talk that night was a bit tough. She didn't want to talk about it because it scared her, then she said she thought maybe it was an angel without wings to protect us. Some of that talk was drawn from previous mommy chair discussions. I recently, in my own mind, surrendered my family to God. What that means to me is that I am going to try my darndest to give up my control freak nature and believe that someone bigger, smarter, and more powerful than my 5'3" frame has my family under control. This is testing that to the max.
I played with the idea of finding a medium to come in and maybe give me an answer of who this is, what he wants, and how to show him the exit. I ultimately decided against this path because I don't want a medium to give any other spirits the idea that this would be a cool place to hang out. I decided to go the prayer route. We have a neighbor who is ordained by his church come over and pray with us to bless our house. If I am really surrendering my family and giving up control - here is my test of faith. Nick is very nice and suggested the next time I see him I should try and ask him what he needs. I can't imagine I'll get past the screaming part.
While I do feel better after the blessing, I am still uneasy about the whole situation. My job as a mom is to practice my duck swim that I have mentioned many times before: calm on the surface even when I am paddling like hell underneath. My mom has seen ghosts before, this isn't my first rodeo with seeing one, and now Natalia sees them. I am starting to see a pattern. In my heart I know I am a reasonable and sane human being, although telling this makes me feel and sound a little crazy-pants. I refuse to give into any drama that might be absorbed by my little seven year old sponge. She has totally moved on to her next childhood drama (she is on Zachary's crush list - can you see my eyes rolling?) and doesn't seem undully scarred or scared. This blog is my way of purging the story and moving on to my next drama: Do we go with the older Disney cruise, or save money and go on a new and bigger ship without the Disney magic? Who am I kidding? I'm still freaked out.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Magically Delicious
You may not know this, but I am a magical being. I wasn't always this gifted, it happened seven years ago this month. As time has gone on, I have become more and more magical, but unfortunately this magic has peaked. In the years to come I will lose most of my powers - most, but not all.
First, there is the basic magic. These are things like sensing an ear infection three days before the fever and knowing if Natalia falls asleep in the car, she won't take a nap at home. This is what I call mommy clairvoyance. This is also how one knows her child is telling a fib. There is that subtle change in facial expression and eye movement that you cannot describe, but your gut tells you she really did use her safety scissors from the craft cubby to cut some of her own hair. This magic is steadfast and God given. It's a keeper.
The other kind of magic is child dependant. Yep, she gives it to me and will take it away, much to my disappointment. This magic is short lived, but oh so powerful. You may not be aware of this, but I am a healer. Not just because I am a nurse, but because I have magic kisses. These are more powerful than ibuprofen and do not even need direct contact with the boo-boo. I can kiss a left hand to help heal the paper cut on the right hand. A kiss to the forehead will help alleviate the pain of a skinned knee. This magic kiss can be combined with a Hello Kitty bandaid and watch out! There is some powerful healing taking place.
Now, I am no American Idol, but my songs will chase away nightmares, smooth over a tough day at school, and lull a restless mind into a peaceful slumber. This magical gift has been put into action even before Natalia's first cry. I am not kidding when I tell you I sing all the time. Seriously. So when I was pregnant with Natalia she was witness to a lot of Christina Aguilera, Beach Boys, and Garbage. When she was six months old and caught a bad case of RSV, I would sing "The Ant Song", which I learned in elementary school, so she wouldn't freak out during the nebulizer treatments. Babies are convinced they are being suffocated when a mask is placed over their face, so she protested quite loudly at first. This song in particular seemed to be the most magical of all for her. She also hated being in her car seat and would cry and cry. Atlanta traffic is horrendous, so you could imagine how peaceful it was to be stuck for at least an hour in gridlock with a screaming baby. "The Ant Song" was the lesser of two evils and worked every time. Even today my very independent and opinionated seven year old gets a song before bed to help her get to sleep. Her world stops spinning if we break that routine.
To Natalia I am an all knowing, all healing magical mommy. She was telling me tonight that my hugs make everything okay. She has a hard time, she says, when she is away from me and something magical-hug-worthy happens and I'm not around. It's a good thing those hugs are retroactive and can fix it when she gets off the school bus or back from Grandma's. If only it would stay this easy.
As she gets older that magic will fade. She will realize that I am human just like her, full of faults and that problems are more complicated than skinned knees and her not getting to be Princess Leia at recess. I know the hugging thing will still carry some "oomph" when it comes to a broken heart or a frustrating day. My mommy clairvoyance tells me that magic will remain intact regardless of her age or my senility.
In the mean time I am going to milk it for all it's worth, because I believe in that magic too. My magic kisses that help heal her wounds help soothe my anxious heart and let me know that I am needed. The hugs that cure her heartaches and ease her fretful mind do the same for mine when I am holding her. I can't begin to count how many times I have held and hugged her when my heart was aching because of a disagreement with Jeremy or a sad day at work. She usually doesn't remember me picking her up in the middle of the night to sit in the mommy chair, but that magic is indeed powerful and helps me go back to sleep. Yes, it totally is a cure for a bad nightmare. I'll tell you what - top that off with a Hello Kitty bandaid and you're set. Abracadabra, shazaam.
First, there is the basic magic. These are things like sensing an ear infection three days before the fever and knowing if Natalia falls asleep in the car, she won't take a nap at home. This is what I call mommy clairvoyance. This is also how one knows her child is telling a fib. There is that subtle change in facial expression and eye movement that you cannot describe, but your gut tells you she really did use her safety scissors from the craft cubby to cut some of her own hair. This magic is steadfast and God given. It's a keeper.
The other kind of magic is child dependant. Yep, she gives it to me and will take it away, much to my disappointment. This magic is short lived, but oh so powerful. You may not be aware of this, but I am a healer. Not just because I am a nurse, but because I have magic kisses. These are more powerful than ibuprofen and do not even need direct contact with the boo-boo. I can kiss a left hand to help heal the paper cut on the right hand. A kiss to the forehead will help alleviate the pain of a skinned knee. This magic kiss can be combined with a Hello Kitty bandaid and watch out! There is some powerful healing taking place.
Now, I am no American Idol, but my songs will chase away nightmares, smooth over a tough day at school, and lull a restless mind into a peaceful slumber. This magical gift has been put into action even before Natalia's first cry. I am not kidding when I tell you I sing all the time. Seriously. So when I was pregnant with Natalia she was witness to a lot of Christina Aguilera, Beach Boys, and Garbage. When she was six months old and caught a bad case of RSV, I would sing "The Ant Song", which I learned in elementary school, so she wouldn't freak out during the nebulizer treatments. Babies are convinced they are being suffocated when a mask is placed over their face, so she protested quite loudly at first. This song in particular seemed to be the most magical of all for her. She also hated being in her car seat and would cry and cry. Atlanta traffic is horrendous, so you could imagine how peaceful it was to be stuck for at least an hour in gridlock with a screaming baby. "The Ant Song" was the lesser of two evils and worked every time. Even today my very independent and opinionated seven year old gets a song before bed to help her get to sleep. Her world stops spinning if we break that routine.
To Natalia I am an all knowing, all healing magical mommy. She was telling me tonight that my hugs make everything okay. She has a hard time, she says, when she is away from me and something magical-hug-worthy happens and I'm not around. It's a good thing those hugs are retroactive and can fix it when she gets off the school bus or back from Grandma's. If only it would stay this easy.
As she gets older that magic will fade. She will realize that I am human just like her, full of faults and that problems are more complicated than skinned knees and her not getting to be Princess Leia at recess. I know the hugging thing will still carry some "oomph" when it comes to a broken heart or a frustrating day. My mommy clairvoyance tells me that magic will remain intact regardless of her age or my senility.
In the mean time I am going to milk it for all it's worth, because I believe in that magic too. My magic kisses that help heal her wounds help soothe my anxious heart and let me know that I am needed. The hugs that cure her heartaches and ease her fretful mind do the same for mine when I am holding her. I can't begin to count how many times I have held and hugged her when my heart was aching because of a disagreement with Jeremy or a sad day at work. She usually doesn't remember me picking her up in the middle of the night to sit in the mommy chair, but that magic is indeed powerful and helps me go back to sleep. Yes, it totally is a cure for a bad nightmare. I'll tell you what - top that off with a Hello Kitty bandaid and you're set. Abracadabra, shazaam.
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