 Sit on my face, and tell me that you love me. My cousin Jessie came over yesterday and we went to see Sherlock Holmes, which if you haven’t seen it — it is pretty awesome. She came over early and visited and watched my children play.
Somehow we got to joking about what it would be like if we played like kids. This line had us rolling:
“What do you do for fun?” asks acquaintance.
I answer, “Spin around in my living room to music until I get dizzy and fall over.”
“Are you drunk?” asks concerned acquaintance.
“Who needs alcohol for that kind of fun?”
It is amazing the things children find to be fun that a grown adult would never think of. I’m tempted to try these to see what all the fuss is about:
Take a bin full of toys and dump them on the floor. Then, use a sweeping motion to spread them all out covering the entire surface. Walk away.
Pull all my books off the shelf into a giant pile. Walk away.
Write on the coffee table with a bottle of milk to see what cool shapes I can make.
Chase my sibling around the coffee table with a toy train…or the dog.
Pull all the pillows off the couch and jump on them.
Throw things and scream with glee.
Stick things in my ears and pretend that I am doctor doing an exam… on myself.
Throw food at the dog to see how much she can catch.
Eat play dough, crayons, or any small toy.
Draw with a magna doodle.
Play with magnets on the fridge by sticking and resticking them a million time.
Go in the closet and slam the door as hard as I can over and over and over. Say peek-a-boo periodically.
Play in the dog’s water dish.
Put clothes on my head and run around screaming.
Dump all the toys out of my plastic toy bin and sit in it to watch television.
If you have any to add, I’d love to hear them!
 Bella and Edward stare lovingly into each others eyes One of the perks of being a parent is that you go from being the weirdo that collects dolls and legos to being able to mask your obsession because you have children. No one questions the reason why your house looks like Toys R Us — you have kids.
As an adult before children, I tried not to indulge in my impulse to buy toys. I masked it. I remember being in my early twenties and wanting so much to buy a Barbie — to feel the way I did when I was 12. There was such magic in getting a new doll, opening up the package and playing with all the clothes and shoes. Instead, I played Sims. Sims is the video equivalent of playing doll house — no offense to gamers out there. I don’t play Sims any more because I have a real family that takes up my time. I don’t have to wait for a bubble to appear above my child’s head or check their status bar to know they have to use the bathroom. I’ll smell it. It’s much more fun, I swear.
This Christmas, my husband and I went totally overboard. I finally had an excuse to buy toys. Sure, my daughter is only 16 months but wouldn’t she just love a Cabbage Patch Doll? “She will eventually,” I tell myself. My husband went crazy with the Lego sets. My son does like the large Legos, but I think his daddy likes them a little bit more.
 Playing with Twilight dolls For my birthday and Christmas, my family indulged me. Instead of being the newlyweds that needed hand towels and appliances, we are now the whimsically fun couple with kids. My mom bought me a set of Barbies from the Twilight series. My husband bought me a Muppet Whatnot for my birthday and the Muppet Movie soundtrack.
I’ve been having so much fun. I can sing and dance Disney tunes without shame. I put on impromptu puppet shows “for the kids.” I let my children play with the Twilight dolls, just so I could take them out of the package and play too. My husband and I spend many an evening putting together the Lego sets he got for Christmas. We watch kids’ movies, even after the kids go to bed.
“What would you like to watch, honey?”
“Kung Fu Panda 2! I heard it was even better than the first one!”
No longer are we closet toy fanatics. I encourage you to let out your inner child. If you could buy a toy for yourself to play without feeling like you are breaking some kind of anti-grown up code of conduct, what would it be?
 My children are starting to speak. Oh how I longed for the days where words would accompany wants instead of the ‘guess-what-this-scream-means.’ People without kids can never appreciate the hilarious and sometimes mind-numbing conversations of those with few words.
Having toddlers is like having a parrot. A parrot who sometimes answers your questions. It’s amazing hearing phrases that you use coming out of this tiny person, and you wonder, “Do I really say that?” I must say it a lot because it’s all I hear coming from them.
When I ask Lucas to do something and he says, ‘No,’ I’ve learned that my common counter question is, “Why not?” He doesn’t know what this means so he’s started to add it to different phrases, like this:
Me: “Lucas, do you want to take a bath?”
Lucas: “No! Why not?”
Another phrase, which I think originated from my mother-in-law is the exclamation, “Oh my,” before various phrases. “Oh my, a train!” “Oh my, a car. Oh my.”
Lucas has also started this strange growling speech that almost sounds like the kid from The Shining saying, ‘Red Rum.’ It kinda freaks me out but he thinks it’s hilarious. I must have used it when trying to make him laugh and it stuck. Just imagine that kid counting to ten in the red rum voice and then laughing hysterically.
Penelope is using more and more words and even phrases. Christmas has been a hoot with her because she loves to impersonate Santa. His bearded mug is all over our house. Penny will go and point and say, ‘Santa!’ followed by a jolly, ‘Ho Ho Ho!’ Then, she tries to climb the dining room chair to see the lego holiday village we started to point out the ‘Christmas tree.’
Penelope loves to talk to the tv. She loves the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. When Mickey asks her, “Do you want to come inside my clubhouse?” she responds with an emphatic, “Nooooo,” which is a really good answer if she is ever asked that question in the outside world.
She is talkative and has a big personality. That’s code for bossy. For example, she has a hokey pokey Elmo. She loves her Elmo and will spin in circles for a good half hour with him. But, she also likes to push him down to hear him say, “Oopsies! Can you help Elmo up please.” Again, she replies with, “Noooo.”
She has always been very articulate. I remember going into her room to get her up in the morning and being greeted with a, ‘Hello.’ Yeah, she said the whole word. I don’t think most adults use both syllables of that one.
Penelope loves her shows, her babas, gooks, night night, mama, daddy, jenny, shoes, and cookies. Most recently, she’s started giving kisses and huggies on command. We have a cute video of her and Lucas hugging and kissing after Ty prompted them.
That’s part of the joy of parenting: hearing those little voices talk to you so sweet, even if they are just asking for a drink. Of course, Penny already thank you after you give it to her. The best is asking for a kiss and getting a sweet peck from that tiny little face. It makes everything else seem not so important.
 Grandma, Dad, Mom, Me, Aunt Micki, and Grandpa is hidden in back The best present I received for my birthday this year was a movie that my husband made from old 8mm reels that my stepmom let me borrow. My father had a whole paper bag full, none of which I had seen before. He passed away this past January. She gave them to me to let me transfer them onto DVD. I never got around to it with everything that happened this year. My grandfather also passed away the beginning of April. The only memorabilia that I had of my grandma, grandpa, and dad where a few photographs. I had also never seen the footage of me as a baby, taking my first steps.
It was very emotional for me, as everyone in the reels is gone except for my aunt and my mom. The footage of me was very telling. In almost every slide, I was crying. There were a few of me clapping and I could make out one where I walked up to the camera and said, “Hi.” I think I was about one and a half.
They tried to get me to look into the camera for a group shot. I was crying; no, almost screaming. Thank God there wasn’t sound on the reel. There’s also footage of me trying to walk in the grass and falling down. Every time I fell, I started crying. The face-on-the-floor tantrum really reminded me of my daughter.
I know that it’s hard to see the whole picture of what a child is like from a few soundless clips. My mom always told me I was a perfect baby. I hardly ever cried and I was very compliant. Actually compliant was what my aunt called me. From those clips, I looked a little over dramatic and a cry baby. The passage of time might just erase all the tantrums from parents’ minds.
 Flat out tantrum How many parents actually tell their kids, “You know, you were a real brat as a baby.”? Not many. If they do, they’re probably horrible parents. I like thinking of myself as an easy baby. It just makes it harder when I am dealing with my own children because according to everyone else I never threw tantrums. I wonder what happened to the calm baby genes that I was supposed to pass down.
Now I know that 30 years from now when my children hopefully have children, I can say as they look at me with bewildered expressions, “You were perfect. The best baby ever!” I say it because I just don’t remember. I look forward to the future knowing this year will dim in it’s horribleness with the passage of time.
 My 30th birthday...I'm in the red shirt. One of my best birthdays ever! If you are wondering, New Year’s Eve is a really sucky day to be born. You’d think that with all the parties and kissing and drinking champagne that it would be the best day to have a birthday. It’s not. I was always jealous of my friend Lori who was born in June. She always had a birthday party at the beach. Kids with birthdays around the holidays know what I am talking about.
Still, I have some pretty darn good birthday memories.
Of course, I have a couple not so great. One birthday, my dad decided that it would be funny to tell me that we didn’t have enough money celebrate my birthday. We drove around and he kept rubbing it in, finally saying that we might just go see a movie. I was so upset that by the time I got home, I was in tears. I ran to my room and flung myself on my bed in a full out tantrum. (I think I was maybe 5, but I am not sure). I didn’t see my stepmom standing in the hallway with a video camera. I didn’t see my whole bedroom lined with toys. I didn’t care. My daddy lied to me about my birthday and I couldn’t get over it.
Lesson to parents: it’s never fun to joke with your kids about not getting presents on their birthday.
Continue reading » Best Birthdays of a New Year’s Eve Baby
 Would you trust this person with your kids? I wouldn't. That's me at 13. How do you entrust the most precious beings in your life to a total stranger?
So far, I haven’t had to ask myself that question because my mother-in-law has been incredibly generous with her time watching our children while I am at work. It hasn’t been an issue so far because I worked part time. Next year, as in a couple weeks, I return to work full time. Now I am faced with the biggest dilemma of my life.
I remember what I was like as a babysitter at 12. It is major reason I will never hire someone under the age of 20 to watch my children. I was the babysitter who took three kids — one of whom was only 3 — on a walk in a very dangerous neighborhood to Burger King for lunch. I bought the lunch with money I stole from their parent’s giant coke jar filled with change. Granted, I used it to feed their kids who ate nothing but ramen noodles and spaghettios every day because that was the only food I knew how to prepare.
With the same three children, I played ‘rollercoaster’ by strapping them into a chair fixed atop the dining room table and tilted them dangerously backwards to simulate the uphill motion, then thrust them forward quickly to simulate going down. Of course, I was as careful as a 12 year old can be — I strapped them in the chair with belts. They loved it. Their parents never knew. I know this because I wasn’t fired.
Of course, they may have known but that’s what you get when you pay a 12 year old to babysit your three children from 6:00 am to 6:00 pm for five days straight, and pay her only $50.00 a week. That equals about $.83 cents an hour. So, you get what you pay for and all three kids survived none the worse for wear. I still haven’t gotten over the fact that I had to use my babysitting money to buy uniforms for private school. Raw. Deal.
The worst thing that I did when I was sent to my aunt’s house to babysit her three children (what is it with my babysitting experience coming in threes? couldn’t they start me out with just one? sheesh!) was when I locked the two young boys — who I think were 2 and 4 — outside because they wouldn’t stop getting into the cupboards in the bathroom. I was busy on the computer painting a picture for my boyfriend using Paint with the help of my 6 year old cousin. I couldn’t be bothered to keep seeing what they were getting into. The umpteenth time the older one said he had to use the potty, I didn’t believe him anymore. And that’s why he pooped in a bucket in the backyard.
You get my drift.
A couple coworkers also regaled me with horror stories of young girls who babysat — one of whom took my coworker’s car as well as her 5 year old daughter and baby son for a joyride through the neighborhood.
Despite the horror stories, I have to face facts. My mother-in-law can’t be expected to watch my children full time for no pay for the next four years.
I have my meager position posted on a couple babysitting sites that I pay a membership for. I’ve had lots of applicants ranging from college students on break, actual local potentials, and even a 73 year old grandmother who’s retired but loves kids. We almost decided on an arrangement with a retired teacher who has an in-home daycare but with Lucas’ diagnosis of Kawasaki Disease, and our doctors orders to keep him away from other children and germy environments while on Aspirin, we changed our minds. Even though the doctor said he is now free and clear, the trauma of our experience with the disease gives me great pause when it comes to reconsidering the option. The upside of having an in-home sitter is that I don’t have to transport my children to someone else’s house five days a week before I go to work. The downside is that I could come home to my children being abandoned and all of our possessions stolen. But, that is obviously a worse-case.
We start interviewing next week. I hope someone can live up to my impossible expectations. What are your babysitting stories, either as a mother or as a babysitter? You can confess to me! I swear I won’t tell.
 My husband made a joke about what it would be like to be our son, who’s 2.5. It would go something like this:
I could poop my pants and just tell the nearest adult to change me.
I could eat pizza every day because if they try to give me something else, I can just scream or throw it on the floor. There would be no consequences.
I wouldn’t have to go to work and I could just play all day with legos, cars, and trains.
All I have to do is yell out the name of my favorite TV show and someone will turn it on for me. I can watch it as many times as I like.
I WOULD GET TO NAP! And that’s after sleeping at least 12 hours.
My vitamins would taste like gummy bears. That’s because they are gummy bears!
I could take a bath with bubbles and toys and no one would judge me. Someone would wash my hair for me. (Okay, having someone else in the room while I take a bath would be weird but I love it when I get my hair washed at the salon.)
All the presents for Christmas would be toys. No dumb kitchen appliances for me!
I would never have to walk anywhere because someone would either carry me or push me in a stroller.
Every time I would have to pick up after myself, I would have help and we would make a game out of it.
My hands are washed and dried for me after every meal and all I have to say is, “Towel!”
I never have to wash dishes, do laundry, mow the lawn, or any other chore, aside from sometimes putting my toys in a bin.
Man, being 2.5 years old sounds like the best life! I wonder why toddlers always act like their lives are falling apart. “You want me to brush my teeth? NOOOOOOOOO!”
It seems like so many people are getting sick. I’m not talking about the flu but weird diseases and odd illnesses. Not counting myself, I know 3 people under 35 who’ve had gallbladder surgery after suffering severe attacks. I actually had two gallbladders removed. Yes, I am an enormous freak of nature.
I am 30. I have asthma. I am allergic to dogs and ragweed. I have psoriasis. I have degenerative disks in my lower back that cause me to become immobile with sciatica pain at the most inopportune moments. I still get acne.
I just thought that all this illness and my body falling apart was part of getting older. I didn’t have asthma or allergies when I was younger, nay even a cavity! But, as I look around and here the stories from my fellow moms, it seems like all of our children are sick too. A friend’s five year old daughter has dizzy spells where she vomits and has headaches. Another mom’s son had to have tubes put in his ears because of horrible ear infections when he was a baby (I’ve heard this done a lot.) Today, a mom friend posted that her little boy has a mass in his groin filled with fluid that they have to consult a pediatric surgeon. My 2.5 year old was just diagnosed with Kawasaki’s Disease. A coworker has two daughters under 10 who have sensory issues.
It is estimated, according to the CDC, that 1 in 110 children have an Autism Spectrum Disorder.
What is happening to our children?
Was everyone this sick when I was growing up, but the adults just never told me about it? I vaguely recall a neighbor girl who had cancer. Her name was Trish. I remember visiting her and she looked so yellow. Then, one day I went to play and she wasn’t home. I went to her funeral. It was my first that I can remember. I don’t know how old she was but I am guessing she was under 12.
What is happening to our children?
I know this is a down beat post. Sorry. I just feel so overwhelmed lately with all of the sickness. I feel like there’s something bigger going on out there. I wouldn’t be surprised if they found out that sugar causes cancer. I do know that when I am not eating “the whites” as in white bread, sugar, and all the other things that the food companies have modified that the majority of my ailments go away and I lose mass amounts of weight.
I keep waiting for the war on the American Diet to start just like the war on the tobacco companies. It’s already starting with the government’s push to put healthier foods in schools (despite the protest that pizza sauce counts as a vegetable), the Youtube sensation about sugar being poison, and movies like Food Inc, Supersize Me. We know what we’re eating is making us sick. Why can’t we stop? Why can’t I stop?
What if all the drugs and food we consume are making our children seriously sick? I am hoping this is all in my head like a blockbuster conspiracy movie but I have a bad feeling that I am closer to the truth than I feel comfortable with.
 Yeah, I’m talkin’ about my perfect weekend. Read more — if you are a stressed out mom, this might be the recipe for the best weekend ever. It was for me.
I’ve had some pretty rough times this year. (That is an understatement for those of you who know me or follow this blog or are a person who I pay to give me advice and listen to me cry.) Yet, this weekend I feel like a new person. “Do tell!” you say? Alrighty then.
Ingredients for a Mom’s Perfect Weekend:
1. An afternoon off to go shopping for Christmas presents, sans children. You find everything on your gift list — at discounted prices. I’m talking triple digits in savings.
2. When you call your husband to ask him whether or not he needs you to come home to help with the kids or if you have time to go grocery shopping, he says they are both napping and to not rush home!
3. After unloading your bounty at home, both children wake up just as everything is put away and are refreshed and happy.
4. Their Grandma comes over and the three of you bake cookies, creating a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting. The cookies are perfect.
5. After both children fall blissfully asleep, Grandma keeps watch so you and your husband can finally go out to dinner AND a movie.
6. After driving around, you finally spot a restaurant you’ve never tried before. Despite being a Saturday night, there’s no wait. You get tipsy on the best blue margaritas of your life at 1/2 price (and what doesn’t taste better with a little freedom?) You and your husband feel like teens on a first date.
 7. You go to the Muppet movie where you are the only two in the theatre. You are just about to put on some serious moves before show, until a little girl and her dad walk in. But, it’s okay because you’d feel weird being two adults watching puppets without at least one kid in the audience. The Muppets is the best movie you’ve seen all year (aside from another vampire movie that shall remain nameless). You and your husband laugh louder than anyone — even the 8 year old girl sitting caddy corner from you.
8. You have a wonderful night. You have the best sleep you’ve had in awhile thanks to the margaritas and date night bliss. Both kids sleep till at least 7am.
9. The next morning you make cinnamon muffins for your whole family and feel like Martha Stewart, even though it was a box mix.
10. Your husband tells you to go ahead and go to Yoga even though you spent the whole afternoon yesterday shopping!
11. Even though you are five minutes late to the studio, you still have an awesome and refreshing class with a great friend and mom who totally gets you. Hugs Katie!
12. Later that day, you get to spend some quality time with a best friend who just celebrated her 30th birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESSIE! You exchange gifts: her birthday gift (that was totally awesome) and she gives the kids’ Christmas presents. Happy times all around.
13. Your children have been super happy and super cute all weekend. They cuddle up to your best friend and let her read them stories. They give you the best hugs and kisses ever. You feel like the greatest mom alive.
13. As you sit and visit with your best friend, you start to make plans to see the vampire movie that shall remain nameless SOMEDAY-WHO-KNOWS-WHEN until your husband suggests that you go ahead and go see it tonight. WHA? Even though the movie starts right at 7pm, husband is okay that you go before the kids bedtime — meaning he will be putting them to bed by himself.
14. You and your BFF see the movie. You get to see it for the 2nd time. You are the only two in the theatre. It was just as awesome as the 1st time — but this time you stay for the ending sequence that is a sort-of preview for the next movie.
After reading my recipe, it really does boil down to a few simple ingredients. I couldn’t have had my perfect weekend without an understanding and thoughtful husband who I can laugh with; my mom who takes time out to give us a break and spend time with her grandchildren; and good friends who not only lend a sympathetic ear but spend time with me doing things I love — like bending into impossible shapes and meditating and watching vampires make-out. I love you all, my family and my friends. Thank you for giving me the best weekend ever!
 There are certain traditions that I love about the holidays. I love putting up Christmas lights. It makes even the crappiest winter day seem cheery. It explains why I went through my entire teen life with Christmas lights on my bedroom ceiling — I really needed Christmas cheer any time I could get it. Now, I don’t mind driving home in a blizzard if I can see some cute lit-up snowmen, santas, and blinking lights in people’s front yards.
I also love decorating the Christmas tree with ornaments that bring back so many memories: the heart inscribed with 2006: Our First Christmas, the crystal key that represents our first home, the Winnie the Pooh ornaments we bought on our babies’ first Christmases, (and the Muppets, Harry Potter, Star Wars, and My Little Pony ones that we collected BEFORE we had kids because my husband and I major dorks.) We open new ornaments every Christmas Eve to add to our amazing collection.
In preparation for the donning of the ornaments, we had to get the tree. Instead of busting the old fake tree out of the garage attic, we thought it would be more festive to go to a tree farm and saw down a real tree — Griswold style. I honestly thought I would have a humorous story about the shenanigans that happened for this blog; after all, when you combine two toddlers, a forest, some sharp saws, sleds, and various Christmas tree tools, you’re asking for trouble. But, it went surprisingly well. We went. We saw. We sawed. We had the tree drilled and wrapped, and strapped it to the top of the minivan with my father in law’s help.
After the tree was decorated with lights and ornaments, we dressed the kids in their Christmas outfits that we purchased for one purpose only — The Christmas Card Photograph. This is a family tradition that I have a feeling will only become more difficult as years go by.
Last year, Penny was just shy of 3 months when we took the picture. So, my husband and I donned our Christmas apparel for the shot. We were able to get Lucas, then 20 months, to smile by spinning around really fast and sitting down just as the camera clicked. Actually, if you look closely at the Christmas card (because I am sure you still have it on your fridge if you are a friend or family member) you can see that it is actually two pictures Photoshopped together: one of me holding our daughter in front of the Christmas tree and one of my husband holding Lucas. My husband is a genius at Photoshop.
 This year, we were fortunate enough that when we attempted to take the picture that both children were in a very good mood. Of course, we did dodge a bullet when Penny peed on the floor of Lucas’ room right before I got on her diaper — nearly missing her Christmas dress. Whew. We try to set up a shot. Neither child wants to sit on the floor in front of the tree. So, we have plenty of pictures of them spinning in front of it — dancing with hands held high in the air obscuring their face — pulling ornaments off the tree with their back to the camera– blurry pictures of them being tickled for a smile only to have a parent’s head part-way in the shot. But, I’m sure my husband will Photoshop the heck out of what we shot so that both kids are sitting and smiling at the camera. He’s that good.
I’ll just be over here finishing off the last of the gingerbread cookies that I swore I would make last at least until Christmas. They won’t make it 24 hours.
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