Top 10 Tuesday: 10 ways to make working out feel like child's play

For the past 6 or 7 years, my mornings have been my "me time." I am generally not a morning person, but with a kid, career, and other responsibilities, I have found that I have no other choice but to take advantage of the early morning hours when the house is quiet and asleep. It's best to wake up early because, once the little one rises, I am compelled to shift gears into mommy mode.

My mornings used to be sacred. This was when I would get in my much needed exercise routine-- taking time for myself and my health. Well, this year, my little motivated second grader has decided that she should take advantage of early mornings too! So, as I am beginning my workout, I hear her door open and it's all over. Next thing I know I am getting my "exercise" by multi-tasking and running up and down the stairs.

Some mornings I barely get any real concentrated workout time, which really puts a crimp in the rest of my day. One day recently, I was feeling particularly stressed and in desperate need of a good sweat. But, when I got home Lila asked if we could do something together after dinner. Tired and giving up on the idea of getting my workout in, I asked her what she would like to do. Her suggestion was "racing down the hill across the street."

"Really?? O...kay."

I threw on my sneakers and we headed outside. For the next 45 minutes or so I had the most hilarious, fun, exhausting workout ever.

As much as I have love my morning routine of yoga postures, push ups, and lunges, I must admit that it does get kind of boring after a while. In fact, I've been finding it harder to get motivated to wake up in the morning. I still do think that making time for myself is important and I am not willing to give that up. But Lila, once again, has turned my "planned time" upside down and showed me that "play time" can be so much more fun offering the same, if not better, results. The laughing that ensues is a great bonus abdominal workout!

Here are Lila's top 10 ways to make working out feel like child's play:

10) Have a race-- over and over again.

9) Run up and down a hill, until you can't breathe. Repeat until completely exhausted.

8) Blow up a balloon. Hit it into the air and chase it around the living room as if your life depends on keeping it off the ground.

7) Go on a nature hike. Climb things.

6) Have a frog jump contest.

5) Play basketball (outside or indoors). Break rules. Travel. Roll on the ground holding the ball while your opponent tickles you until you let go. Chase them.

4) Play hop scotch and jump rope. Sing while you do it (if you're not totally out of breath).

3) Play hide and seek and run like crazy when you're found.

2) Play on the monkey bars. Work on becoming a bad a** mama who could do pull ups.

1) Have a wild dance party which involves jumping on the bed like two crazy people. Collapse and laugh until your stomach hurts.


-Tara

My six-year-old is in charge of Mother Earth

My ears perked up when Clara came home from a kindergarten science class last year with the proud and earnest proclamation, "Guess what, Mama? I'm in charge of Mother Earth."

Clara comes from a long line of environmentalists, people who took care of the earth even before the term environmentalist was in vogue. 

For generations, members of my family worked the earth as farmers even as recently as my paternal grandmother's family, working a small farm in a small town in Illinois. While other members of our family didn't farm for a living, nearly everyone in the family kept a vegetable garden. They kept connected to the earth.

In high school, my sister was the president of the Environmental Club, and I was the vice-president. We were activists, changing school policy about frog dissection, organizing a city-wide Earth Day festival, educating others about factory farming, and at times probably too self-righteously advocating to others about the benefits of vegetarianism. 

One of my most memorable protests was picketing outside of a McDonald's urging passing cars to "honk for a McVeggie burger." Looking back on that high school photo, I think the short shorts my classmate and I were wearing might have been provoking more honks than our cause.

 ***

I admit with some sadness and regret that as an adult I never learned to set up a vegetable garden of my own, and my environmentalist activist days of high school seem far in the past. The closest connection I have to the environment these days is taking long walks through the woods and supporting a local CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) where we get farm vegetables once a week.

I am happy that Clara has a sense of urgency and caring for the environment even if the nudge in that direction came initially from school rather than home. 

 ***

Over this past summer, we explored Clara's interest in caring for Mother Earth in a few ways:

1. We started an herb garden. In the spring, we bought basil, thyme, and rosemary and planted it in a small container outdoors. We watched the herbs grow abundantly, using them occasionally in our cooking but mostly enjoying their exuberant smells. Inside, Clara planted a basil plant from seed that has grown steadily much to her delight.

2. After seven years of being a member of the CSA, and never actually seeing the farm, we finally visited the farm for garlic harvest day. We had a great time getting our hands dirty and seeing the beautiful land where our vegetables come from. 





Our experience at the farm indicated that Clara may be prone more towards entomology than gardening. She picked a few garlic bulbs, but she spent the majority of her day collecting worms and keeping them moist and happy in a pile of dirt!




3. Clara joined a camp called "It IS easy being green" where she learned about composting and growing things. One of her favorite activities was making pickles out of cucumbers.








4. I finally got Clara to join me for walks in the woods. I enticed her with descriptions of the wildlife we would find. However, this was a bit of a gamble on my part since many times I don't see much beyond a sparrow or squirrel. I felt a sense of victory when in our most recent journey, we spotted almost a dozen frogs, a snake, many friendly dragonflies, and a monarch butterfly.

How many frogs do you see?

We still have a long way to go to being the environmental family I dream we can be. I would like to grow an actual vegetable garden rather than just herbs. I would like to compost and keep our waste at a minimum. However, last summer did feel like a step in the right direction of re-connecting with Mother Earth.


I am proud to be the mama of a six-year-old who feels she is in charge of Mother Earth. Her enthusiasm is helping me to feel hope for the future of our planet and to re-energize the teenager environmentalist in me.

-Ellyn

Making time for Mama

Anyone who has been reading our blog for a while knows the gist: we are four moms who write about our "milestones, moments, and mishaps" as we raise our four vivacious daughters. Our entries tend to focus on the adventures of our fabulous four but behind all of the stories we share about them, there is US. We began our journey as new, inexperienced moms and over a short time we've developed a bond in supporting one another "as we go along." While our little girls have played, explored, giggled, and become BFFs, we have talked, vented, laughed, and developed our own sisterhood out of the shared experience of motherhood.

Being a mom is hard work. The hardest job I've had by far. Each time I think I've gotten over the learning curve, things switch up and I find myself trying to figure out the next stage and phase. It's exciting and I love experiencing each new development. However, at times it can be exhausting! When I think about what has kept me sane, it has mostly been the support of the wonderful women behind the blog: Ellyn, Annabelle, and Lisa.

Ellyn and I have supported each other's art and writing, by setting aside "artist dates." One of us will take the girls, while the other gets to have 2-3 hours of uninterrupted creative time for whatever project we are working on. Without this, my artistic interests would surely be neglected instead of nourished. It's a win-win-- the girls get to have a fun play date and we can totally indulge in "me" time without feeling guilty.

We celebrate each other's birthdays. Sometimes because of busy schedules it's a month after the fact, but we always eventually find a time to go out for a birthday dinner. We spend so much time and effort planning creatively themed birthday bashes for our little ones, why not set aside a night here and there to celebrate each other? Birthdays are the perfect excuse for a girls' night out. It's just the mamas while the little girls have daddy-daughter time at home.

We are each other's babysitters when needed. Days I've had to work when school is closed, both Lisa and Annabelle have been so generous to have Lila over for all day play dates. (I still owe you...You have childcare credits in the bank with me!) Ellyn and I have exchanged childcare so that we can have date nights with the hubbies. Clara and Lila are always thrilled with this arrangement because they get to have a sleepover!

Play dates are for the little girls and the big girls too. When we can, usually at the end of a busy week, we get together for dinner and a play date. Our girls play so nicely together that, while they run off, we get a moment to relax, eat, and chat.

I'm so thankful that our daughters' friendship has brought us together. Here's to more good times... as we go along. Cheers!

-Tara

Conquering the morning & bedtime routine

Towards the end of a fun, impromptu play date at Clara’s house, I start the 10 minute count down, as I always do.

Me: Lila, we have to start wrapping up to go home.”

Lila (not looking away from the TV): Why?

Me: Because it’s a school night and we have to get back to our routine.

Lila: What routine?

I smack my own forehead, speechless.

Ah, yes. The bedtime and morning routine— the two-headed monster I’ve been battling day after day, night after night. Apparently, he’s an imaginary monster whom only I can see… and feel… and agonize over. This is my own personal battle. When my sweet, well-meaning husband tries intervening with a “perhaps I could offer a different approach” I wield my sword toward him—“NEVER!!!”  I shall conquer this monster with my mighty mommy powers!!

Uh huh. Yeah. I have no idea what I am doing.

First, it was the night time routine.  Somehow I was stuck in the routine of staying in the bed with Lila until she goes asleep. This results in me falling asleep in her bed and then waking up in the middle of the night to stumble back into my bed to my now sleeping husband. Needless to say, I have little to no downtime for myself or the hubby. (Not healthy.) My attempts to wean Lila off of having me in the bed have been met with tears and pure manipulation—

Lila: Mommy, why don’t you want to be with me???

(How in the world do I answer that question?)

Me: Of course, I want to be with you but…

Lila: WHAHHHHH!!!

And, I’m back in the bed staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on Lila’s bedroom ceiling. Lila’s fast asleep with a subtle grin. (You have won this battle, but the war has just begun, my sweet.)

Out of desperation, despite my husband’s silent protest, I brought up my dilemma at a parents' meeting at school. My story conjured up lots of emotion with the other parents. (Phew! I was not alone.)  I was given loads of advice, empathy, and well wishes. That night I faced the monster (aka the bedtime routine) with a renewed confidence.

Me: Lila, we had a talk at your school and they said you are too big now to have your mommy sleeping in the bed with you. So, starting tonight, after story, I am going to say good night and leave.

Silence... The jig was up. I have not slept in Lila’s room since.

That was seriously too easy. After all of those nights, that was it. Success! But it was not a total victory.

The morning routine was still rearing its ugly head.

At school in the morning Lila is expected to do 3 things:

1)      Put her folder in the homework basket.

2)      Place her “book buddy” folder on the shelf.

3)      Hang her jacket and back pack in the locker.

Classroom rule- Parents are not to intervene. Parents cannot do these things for their child. It’s all about building independence and responsibility and blah blah blah, I know, I know. I get it. It is just sooooooo frustrating when on "day 34" of the school year, kids are coming in and out, doing the routine 1-2-3, and your little one is in La La Land! Jacket on the floor… folder falling out of the back pack… 10 minutes later, still in the classroom… And I can’t help but wonder, “what am I doing wrong?!?!”

My husband’s interpretation is that I "baby her too much" and I need to "just drop her off and leave." Maybe there’s some truth to that (whatever), but I just can’t handle leaving with the image in my mind of Lila and her stuff all over the place. “She needs me” I convince myself. "She can't do this alone." I lose sleep thinking about it (making the newly accomplished night time routine a mute point—I’m not sleeping anyways)!

But, this morning in the shower it came to me! To the melody of Oh My Darling, Clementine—

"Homework basket, homework basket, homework basket, book buddy.

Hang your back pack and your jacket,

and then you’re ready!"

I came running down the stairs, dripping wet with my towel, where Lila was eating breakfast and watching TV. I proudly sang my tune. Lila smirked and amazingly, it worked! This was the very first morning that Lila successfully completed her routine without assistance.

The song was brilliant!

Lila: Mom, please DO NOT sing that song in my classroom!

Me: I won't unless you need me too, Sweetie.

Hey, whatever works... {Insert evil laugh here.} Mommy wins!

-Tara

The Wonder of Summer Camp!

When my husband first suggested that Sarah attend summer camp full time, I baulked.

What?!?!?!

Not stay home with me? That’s just crazy.

Beside the outrageous expense of a full-time summer camp program in our area, she would be so tired. I just couldn’t imagine my girl handling the demands of such a long day. Of course, my husband knows me better than I know myself at times and suggested that I think about what I would do with the free time. With such an inviting demand for self-reflection and the prospect a few spa days thrown in, what could I do but sign her up and hope for the best.

Put this in the record books – he was right!

Once I got over the initial sadness of watching her load the bus on her own, without a tear, I eventually reveled in hearing about her adventures each day. Sarah grew exponentially at camp! She rode the bus without fear, running up to the door in the morning and bouncing down the steps each afternoon, waving at her new friends or high-fiving the camp counselor who accompanied them each day. She came home with art work, friendship bracelets and tie dyed shirts. AND, she learned so many new things . . .swim without a floaty, dribble a basketball, hit a baseball, run the bases, play gaga (a politically correction version of dodge ball), make up a cheer, swing across all the monkey bars without help and spit out watermelon seeds and plethora of new nature facts . . . to name a few small milestones!

I learned it was time for her to begin developing her own life – that spanned far beyond the walls of our playroom.  As a result, she is ready and excited for kindergarten, plays school nearly every day with her spotless new backpack and regularly asks how many days remain before she can go. I couldn’t have asked for more. I realize that she and I both needed to grow in our independence, and now our quality time is even more high quality as she leads the activities and teaches me new things. These are the exact big-girl adventures we’ve been preparing her for, and I’m so proud of both of us!

 

Taking a moment

"MAMA!!!! I can't find my cupcake book!"

I check the clock. It's 7:39 on Friday morning. On school/work days, our mornings are scheduled down to the minute. We must be in the car, buckled in, and on the road by 7:45am at the latest in order to get to school and work on time.

"I want to bring my cupcake book to school today!"

Lila hasn't read her cupcake book for months but for some reason, five minutes before we have to leave, she needs her cupcake book now. I quickly weigh out my decision-- a few minutes of looking for the cupcake book would be much better than a cranky, crying child for an entire car ride. I quickly join Lila in her room and we go through each and every paperback book on her shelf.

No cupcake book.

At this point, it's 7:50am.

"Lila, we will have to find the cupcake book after school. We have to go... now."

Lila's face scrunches up, bottom lip pokes out, and her eyes fill with tears.

"Lila! Don't start. Pick out another book and let's go!" I say firmly, very aware of the minutes flying by. We are definitely going to be late.

Fastforward to drop off. We arrive at 8:30am. I am supposed to be in my office at my computer at 8:30am. I fly out of the car over to Lila's door. I quickly unbuckle her and the tears start up again.

"But Mama, I don't have a book for school today!"

I pick up the first book I see on the floor of the car and thrust it into her arms. "Let's go!"

I rush into the building with Lila dragging along behind me. I hang up her bag and coat in her cubby and sign the sign in sheet. Lila is lingering outside of the classroom door, looking down at the floor.

I kneel down in front of her. "Lila, Mommy has to go to work now, okay? I will see you later." I give her a kiss on the forehead. She starts crying again.

"Lila, look at the clock. It's late now. I really have to go, but I will be back early today to pick you up."

She continues to cry. At this point, her teacher takes over. I give her one more hug and zoom out the door.

At work over coffee, I complain to my co-worker, another working mom, about how Lila gave me a hard time this morning. I go on with my busy day.

Then, I hear the news-- Twenty children (and six adults) are killed in a shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School. Twenty children woke up that morning, got dressed, brushed their teeth, said good-bye to their parents/caregivers, and went to school like any other morning. But, on this day, they won't be going home.

I am no longer aware of the time. My mental to-do list disappears.

My mind immediately goes back to Lila-- her crying and me rushing out of the door. All I want to do is hug her. I want to go back in time and give her those few extra moments that she obviously needed from me.

My heart aches for the families and community affected by this tragedy. I find myself hugging and kissing Lila a little more than usual and staying in her bed after storytime a bit longer than before.

The minutes do seem to fly by in our busy lives, but my hope today is to create moments with my family that are lasting.

...And not so rushed.

 -Tara

Top Ten Things I'm Thankful For In My Imperfect Life

I’ve been particularly stressed and cranky these days. Winter is approaching; it’s getting cold and dark earlier and I’m lacking much needed sunlight and vitamin D. Like most working moms, I’m overwhelmed with juggling work, home, mommyhood and everything else. I am more scattered-brained than ever, losing my cell phone, check book, wallet… my MIND on a regular basis. But Thanksgiving is coming which means some much needed R & R is on the horizon. Hooray! It’s also time for me to stop complaining and to be grateful for a change. Things are certainly not as bad as they seem. In fact, as I think about it, life is actually quite nice.

10) When I am in a glorious deep sleep and suddenly jolted awake by “MAAAAMMMMA!!” at 4am, I am thankful that my daughter still needs me and wants me to cuddle with her. (I shall remember and cherish this when she is a pre-teen and is too cool to be seen with me.)

9) While I normally would obsess about the extra five pounds I’ve gained (that perpetually sneaks up on me), I realize that I am fortunate to have enough good food to eat (which I really enjoy eating).

8) Speaking of food… yes, the cost and frequency of my grocery store visits has increased, as Lila seems to grow overnight (I swear those 4T shirts just fit yesterday), I am so thankful for a child with a healthy appetite who enjoys really good, high quality food (i.e. steak, exotic produce, lobster etc.) rather than the typical junky kid foods. (No boxed mac and cheese for her!)

7) Now, back to my extra 5lbs… when (in my mind) I am cursing out my trainer during TRX, Rip Trainer, or whatever other physical torture I am allowing to be done to me that day, I am grateful that I have the health and ability to move my body and exercise. (My dad sadly spent his last days as a quadriplegic.)

6) As Lila asks a million questions (mostly beginning with “why”) in the back seat of the car while I am trying to remember my mile long to do list, I am thankful for her curiosity, genuine love for learning, and the fact that she is smart and witty enough to know how to drive her mama crazy. (Uh huh. She knows exactly what she’s doing!)

5) While I have a few sprigs of grey, am referred to as “ma’am” on a regular, and no longer get carded, I am thankful that I am much wiser than I was in my 20s (thank goodness). That’s right, this ol’ broad knows a thing or two. However, I know that I still have a whole lot more to learn and I’m excited for that!

4) Although I am convinced that they are conspiring to steal my baby from me, I am totally indebted and grateful to Lila’s amazing, involved, lovin’, spoilin’, grandma and nana. Yes, I believe if they had their way, they would take me out of the equation and split custody of Lila, however, I am so fortunate to have their help, support, and free weekend child care services  when I need a break! (Thank you!)

3) I long for the days when I could spend hours chatting on the phone or over coffee with my girlfriends, but I am grateful that despite our hectic adult lives, our relationships are strong and lasting despite the distance or time apart.

2) Although my husband and I really know how to push each other’s buttons (and regularly get on each other’s nerves), I am thankful that we “get” each other and have grown from high school sweethearts to lifelong partners.

1) Our condo has seemingly become smaller and more cluttered as we have grown from a couple into a family, but I am thankful for my little tight knit family as we trip over each other in our messy but warm little home… that is all our own!

Happy Thanksgiving!
-Tara

Who's the child here? One blog entry I am ashamed to post

It was almost so perfect— one of those quintessential New England autumn weekends with cool, crisp weather, colorful foliage, pumpkin picking, homemade pumpkin bread, delicious apple cider, and best of all some much-needed QT as a family.

On Saturday, we went to a fall festival. Lila had hoped to get her face painted but the line was way too long.

“Don’t worry, Lila. I’ll paint your face at home,” I happily suggested. Mama saves the day.

Lila’s face lit up as she debated out loud whether she should be a skeleton or a jack-o-lantern. Sunday morning, she was so excited to get done up as a spooky skeleton and I was happy to help create this magic for her. And so our Sunday family day began.

All was good, until what seemed like a fun suggestion turned so wrong—“Let’s stop in the Christmas Tree Shoppe.”

My husband was outwardly not interested and announced that he would wait in the car. Lila, thumb in her mouth and sleepy eyes, was reluctant at first until it dawned on her—“Is that the place with the toys?”  Then she was totally game. Cool. Mama and daughter will go in together. Dad can wait in the car.

My agenda was to just browse. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular and really had no business buying anything that we don’t need (which is easy to do at the Christmas Tree Shoppe.) I didn’t need to go in the first place, but there is just something about that place that draws me in. “Don’t you just love a bargain?” Why, yes, I do.

Well, the Christmas Tree Shoppe on a Saturday in the fall is apparently the place to be… or not to be. I found myself being jerked, pushed, and elbowed. So much for browsing—I couldn’t stay in one spot for too long because of the never ending flow of traffic and the murmured “excuse me’s” down each aisle.

Lila was in rare form. She had the uncontrollable urge to touch and look at everything. “Mom! Wait! I want that! And I want that! Look here! Go there!” and the dreaded “Can you buy me that?!” 

Lila had managed to grab a few things that kept her somewhat occupied as I finished looking around. I had snagged a couple good deals, items I figured I would need for Lila’s big Halloween bash next weekend. Of course, when I went to check out I realized there was no express line in sight. Every line looked like it was miles long. It suddenly felt like they had cranked up the heat in the store. Nothing is worse than having just a handful of items and being behind several customers with full carts and a cashier in need of a price check. UGH!

Lila was clamoring on about something she wanted and I was desperately scoping out the front of store for the fastest moving line and exit. After an eternity, it was finally my turn and my mission was to check out as quickly as possible. As I placed my items on counter, Lila proceeded to do the same—a few cheaply made toys that would inevitably wind up at the bottom of her toy box and a high-fructose-corn-syrup-artificially-flavored candy thing.

“No. Lila, you don’t need that stuff. You can pick ONE thing.”

Lila was NOT happy. The whining and beginning signs of a temper tantrum quickly ensued. And I could feel my temper rising just as quickly as I tried to focus and remember the pin number for my debit card.

“Lila! Please! I can’t even think straight. I said NO.”

And then came the tears and the cool skeleton face paint started to smudge.

In my own frustration, I failed to realize how Lila might be feeling at that moment. She was in that crowded store too. She waited in a long line and felt the relief and excitement when it was our turn to check out. Only, she was told, “no.” In hindsight, I get it. In the moment, I was annoyed, frustrated… mad!

Of course, trying to get a crying, unhappy four-year-old out of a shopping cart is nearly impossible. A kind, empathetic mama took pity on me and held the cart steady. Lila lost a boot as I pulled her out. “MY BOOT!!!!!” More crying... my head started pounding.

My husband, cool and calm, innocently inquired “What happened?”

“Nothing.” I responded sharply. (Nothing I thought was worth rehashing.)

He insisted, “Tell me what happened!”

After a little back and forth, this is when the brief, yet memorable episode of “mom gone wild” happened. I snapped. I snapped at him. I snapped at Lila. Suddenly, I was the child and I wanted to go home!

At the time, I felt somewhat justified. Afterwards, I felt horrible and totally disgusted at myself. This is not how I planned for our weekend to turn out. A picture perfect family memory had turned into one of those traumatic childhood moments (when mom totally loses it) that I vowed I would never cause.

Shortly after we all calmed down, apologies were made and hugs and kisses were given.  This is one of those moments that I desparately want to forget and more importantly pray that Lila will forget. As I recognize my need to develop more patience and the ability to carefully pick my battles, the lesson learned here (for me) is that we are all human. We make mistakes. But we also make up. We admit our fault. And it doesn’t mean we don’t love each other.

-Tara

Top 10 Baby Items That I Can't Let Go

As Lila grew from baby to toddler, my husband had to practically pry the onesie out of my hands. According to him, if he didn't intervene Lila would be "ten years old, going to school in a onesie under her clothes." So what. I love onesies. Lila could stretch, roll around, and play and her belly wouldn't be exposed. They're one of my favorite baby items. I eventually had to let them go, but there are several items that I refuse to give up. It is mainly for practical reasons, but I will admit, it is partly sentimental. With each baby item I hold on to, in a small way I can deny the fact that Lila is growing up. (sniff sniff)

10) Baby lotion: I remember my mother telling me that she loved the smell of baby lotion. I never understood what was so special about it until I had baby of my own. Snuggling with Lila after her bath, the scent of baby lotion (particularly Johnson's & Johnson's) brings me back to when she was a little, bitty baby in my arms. Awww. So sweet! But besides smelling great, baby lotion is actually a really good moisturizer. The whole family uses it. Love it!

9) The diaper bag: Don’t worry. I don’t actually still carry my diaper bag, but I did for a while after Lila was out of diapers. Now, I still bring a huge bag with me at all times. We need stuff—snacks, crayons and coloring books, a water bottle, a change of clothes in case of an accident…  Even if we are just running a quick errand we pack like we’re going on an adventure. Let’s face it. Everyday is an adventure with a four-year-old! After a full day with Lila, I dump out the snack wrappers, broken crayons, works of art on the backs of paper place mats, dirty clothes, sticky, crumpled napkins, and rocks, leaves and whatever other “treasure” found in our travels. Wonder if I will ever go back to carrying a cute, small purse again? My magic eight ball just responded “Ask again later.”

8) The stroller: We are relying on it less and less, but my husband and I still keep the umbrella stroller in the trunk of the car just in case. To think when I was childless, I used to shake my head at “big kids” riding around in strollers—“Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. That kid needs to walk!” Now as a mom, I am forced to eat my words. True, Lila is perfectly capable of walking most of the time and she does. But she is small. Her little legs get tired or she gets exhausted suddenly and needs to take a nap. Then what? One of us has to carry her. So, in desperation, we break out the stroller. Yes, her knees are a little high up and her feet can touch the ground. Are you judging me? Okay, YOU lug 40 pounds of dead weight (along with shopping bags and the huge purse mentioned above) through the mall and out to the parking lot. Uh huh. Yeah. I thought so.

7) Gerber puffs: Yum. This was one of Lila’s first and favorite snacks. She loved them as a baby in her high chair and still enjoys them now. Strawberry, sweet potato, apple cinnamon-- they are light, tasty, and totally addictive. And if you’re like me and mindlessly munch on your child’s leftover snacks, no worries. Puffs are a low calorie/low fat (low WW point) treat. YAY!

6) Cheerios: Again, another babyhood snack that never gets old. We always keep a box of Cheerios in the house. Now we’ve graduated to more advanced flavors such as Honey Nut and Multigrain. Lila still eats them the way she did as a baby-- no bowl, spoon, or milk. Cheerios are the ultimate finger food. Pop a handful and keep it movin’.

5) Sippy cups: Speaking of being on the move, I still consider sippy cups to be essential. Yes, at the dinner table, Lila uses a big girl cup, but any other time she is just too busy and active to be given a cup with no lid. That’s just asking for trouble. We use sippy cups around the house, in the car, playing outside, and when we are simply on the go.

4) Baby books: I have managed to donate or pass down most of Lila’s baby toys, but the baby books still remain. You know the ones— mostly pictures and just a few words on each page? They take about three seconds to read. We have advanced to longer, more complex storybooks, but every once in a while, at bedtime, Lila reaches for an old favorite. Even though it wasn’t that long ago that she was a baby, she seems to get nostalgic when I read these familiar little books to her. The cool thing is she is starting to read these books to me. As she is learning her letters, sounds, and basic spelling, she will often practice her words by reading these books aloud. Timeless treasures, they serve a whole new purpose as she develops her early reading skills. That’s right— My baby can read!

3) Lullabies: Despite Lila confusing me with Alicia Keys, I can not sing. But that doesn't stop Lila from requesting her favorite baby lullabies at night. It's a special part of our bedtime routine. Lila, my audience of one, is probably the only person who will request an encore of my vocal performances.

2) Wipes: What would I do without wipes? Whoever invented this wonderful all purpose cleaning item should be honored. I keep them in the huge purse, in the car, in the bathroom... everywhere! And use them to clean everything from sticky hands to spilled juice to dusty furniture. This is one baby item I will probably never give up. 

1) Baby blankets: Sentimental, warm, and comfy, Lila still uses the same blankets she did as a baby. Sure, she is no longer swaddled in them, but they still keep her secure and cozy. When she wakes up in the middle of the night and comes to our room, her blanket comes to. She won't let go of her blankies. The best one was hand knit by a family friend. Can't get more special than that! 

-Tara

My daughter sucks her thumb and the judgement just sucks

While standing in line for coffee, the older gentleman in front of us notices Lila. Crouching down, he smiles kindly and waves. Lila would usually wave back or say something charming, but since it's close to naptime, she's just not in the mood. Wrapping one arm around my leg, she sticks her thumb in her mouth and turns away (her normal “I’m sleepy so, leave me alone” body language).

To my surprise, the man straightens up and says—“Now, you be a good girl and don’t suck your thumb.”

Um, excuuuuse me?!

Appalled and annoyed, now I turn away. Seething, I rub Lila’s back and stare at the menu above the register. How dare he?!

Yes, my daughter sucks her thumb. I am well aware of this and all that comes with it. Every time she gets a fever (and winds up in the hospital from a febrile seizure) I visualize every door knob, railing, counter top, and toy covered with germs that she has touched before putting her thumb into her mouth. With each visit to the dentist, I am reminded of the potential of buck teeth and braces she inevitably will have.

Well-meaning strangers sympathize and share personal stories—“Oh, I used to suck my thumb too. I didn’t stop until I was twelve.”

“ Twelve!? Are you serious!?”  My inner voice screams as I smile politely. I cringe inside. “Oh, the horror!!”

Some suggest what could be viewed as cruel and unusual methods— “Just cover her thumb in hot sauce. That’ll stop her.”

Others warn that if I interfere she will suffer long term psychological damage or perhaps begin to stutter.



Lila as an infant discovering her thumb.

Lila, nestled next to my leg, looks up at me with her tight little fist at her mouth. She is so sweet. She just has a bad habit. Who doesn't? Why do so many people feel they have the right to judge? Probably some of these same individuals will light up a cigarette or engage in some other habitual behavior themselves. And we’re adults!

The first time Lila sucked her thumb I was actually kind of happy. I feel guilty admitting that, but sucking her thumb meant that she had developed the ability to self-soothe through the night which resulted in a full six uninterrupted hours of sleep for me! It… was… GLORIOUS! (Okay, now I really feel guilty.) I admit, I took full advantage and enjoyed some much needed SLEEP.

I didn’t think about what would happen four years later—that Lila would struggle with sucking her thumb. She is now old enough to know it is an issue and has announced many times—“I’m a big girl. I don’t suck my thumb anymore.”

But despite her strong will, she still does.

I have glanced at her in the rearview mirror as she pulls her own thumb out of her mouth and then, frustrated and defeated, puts it back in. Sometimes her eyes get teary.

Recently, I told her that we will celebrate the day she stops sucking her thumb. This idea has inspired her.

“Really, Mama?! When I stop ‘thucking’ my thumb I will have a big party with all my friends and cake and a movie and games and it will be so much fun?!”

I was thinking something much smaller (like me and Daddy taking her out to eat). But, hey, perhaps when that day comes it will be cause for a huge celebration!

Just how will we word the invitations?

-Tara

Why I’m Afraid of This Blog and/or Sorry, Did I Offend You?

I like to write. I have kept a journal since I was 11 years old. My first journal was bound by a lovely pink and green floral print cover emblazoned with a heart with my name on it and, most importantly, it had a gold lock. I could always assure that my carefully written thoughts remained private, secure, and protected (or so it felt at the time) by that 10-cent lock.

My lock got so much use, it eventually broke.

When I started reading other people’s blogs a few years ago, I felt like I had found my own tribe. Here were other people writing journal-like entries, sharing personal details of their lives, expressing emotions that resonated with my own. Although I had so much in common with what they wrote, I couldn’t imagine actually sharing these thoughts with the world. What good was my pretty gold lock if I was going to hit “publish” and let anyone who came along just pick up my “journal” and start reading?

My friend, Tara, helped to pry me out of my shell by proposing that three of us write a blog together, sharing the responsibility. Besides my fear of sharing too much, I also had to work through some other baggage to get to the point of writing this blog.

TOP THREE REASONS IT HAS TAKEN ME THIS LONG TO WRITE A BLOG:

Some of my favorite journals

1. The Stalkers, Rapists, and Murderers who are lurking on the Internet waiting for their next prey. These fears were fostered at an early age, pre-Internet, by my mom who warned me not to give any information to strangers. The only way that anyone other than my parents was allowed to talk to me or pick me up from school was if they knew the super-secret password that my mom taught us (the name of our first pet). Do you know that secret password? If not, please stop reading here. :)

2. The Computer Nerds, Scam-artists, and other Tech-savvy ill-doers who might not only read this blog, but might also magically extrapolate my social security number, SAT scores, and personal bank account passwords from my posts. This fear was fostered by my super security-conscious husband who knows quite a bit about computers and is incredibly cautious about the digital footprint that one creates. He is skeptical, but supportive, as I start this endeavor.

3. My Fear of Offending You. My number one fear about writing for a blog is an emotional quirk all of my own creating. I am most worried about offending you. That’s right. I’m worried that your feelings may be hurt or perhaps you might think less of me after reading a post. I am not someone who likes to offend. I try very hard in life to keep the peace, find commonalities, make connections. If I’m talking to you, my lovely organic produce-eating, homemade almond milk-making friend, I might not bring up my love of salt and vinegar potato chips or the occasional bowl of mint oreo ice cream. I steer away from talking about food too much with you; instead, I keep the peace by talking about our shared love of our kids.

My very first journal entry

I once read that we are as many personalities as we have relationships, that what we share about ourselves molds and moves slightly for every single relationship that we have. So, if I have 67 friends, does that mean I have 67 slightly different selves? The idea seems a little extreme, but ultimately it makes a lot of sense to me that I’m perhaps slightly, almost imperceptibly, different in each relationship.

I don’t like to think that I am hiding who I am in certain relationships, but that when I am with you, talking to you, I am bringing up topics that are relevant to both of us. I am reading your emotional cues and responding accordingly with how much and what I share. With this blog, you are sitting at a computer somewhere perhaps very far away and I can’t see if your head is slowly moving up and down in an “Aaahh, yes, I agree with you nod” or if you’re rolling your eyes in annoyance about my latest proud mama moment describing Clara’s accomplishments in way too much detail.

So, ultimately, writing in this blog is taking a risk for me, stepping outside of my comfort zone, and confronting fears (some that go all the way back to childhood. Thanks, Mom!). It’s a step that I’m scared and happy to take. Most of all, I’m glad you’re coming along for the ride. Thanks for reading, and I hope to hear from you along this journey (whether you agree... or disagree) in the comment section.

-Ellyn

She's allergic to WHAT?!?!

So my daughter and I made our annual trek into NYC to go to the Jaffe Institute (one of the leading medical institutes researching pediatric allergies) at Mt. Sinai and praying against all odds that MAYBE Elisa will have outgrown something??  Being the tough cookie that she is, she sat through and endured 17 pricks to her arms and watched and resisted itching when the hives appeared. Well I wish I could say it was worth it…but Elisa reacted to all allergens that she was tested for...which are eggs, peanuts, tree nuts, shellfish...and now let's add seasonal ones too.  Major disappointment. *Sigh* 

To make matters worse, she then had to have 4 vials of blood taken with a lab technician that clearly wasn’t the best at their job...let’s just say that I wasn’t getting my blood taken and I cringed. *BIG SIGH*  It’s frustrating to have a child who has severe allergies and you often have to wonder where you went wrong during your pregnancy or during the early stages of life to have been cursed with this added stress.  Maybe I shouldn’t have had that one extra hotdog when I was pregnant…but I really needed it!  Am I not feeding her enough organic foods?  But damn, Strawberries are ridiculously expensive when not in season!  And it’s a hard thing to imagine if you are not a parent that has to deal with it-checking labels all the time…having to argue with airline attendants regarding their nut policies…explaining to Elisa that yes, chickens probably can eat peanut butter and not get sick but she can’t.  It’s a good reminder to me how resilient and brave children are because then she just laughs it off and says, "That’s silly!" or "Maybe I can have eggs when I'm 5?"...and "Can I have ice cream now Mommy?"  And being the parent, I need to keep my tears in check and smile, and say, "Yes...maybe." and "Of course you can."  I don’t know if I would be able to deal so well with not being able to eat certain foods (actually, I KNOW I wouldn’t be able to)…and that’s a very humbling thing. 

-Annabelle 

What To Expect

Okay, if I get pregnant now, I could go on leave during the summer when the students are on break…” This was me, carefully counting back the months to plan the perfect time for my pregnancy. If I was going to do this, I needed a plan. Plans made me feel better. Plans gave me control. 

Guess you could say I’m a little high strung. You know that butterfly feeling you sometimes get in the pit of your stomach? I have that. A lot. Despite all the “OMs” I do in yoga class, with that illusion of calm on my face… I am a worrier.

And so, like always, I had a plan.

I got the books—“What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” “The Happiest Baby on the Block”… I had an outline for what type of parent I would be, what life would be like as a mom.

Fate is cruel to planners. Lila was premature. There was no time to wrap up work projects, no time to set up the nursery, no time to even pack my hospital bag. Within a few hours of labor, I was a mom.

Fast forward, I am now the mom of a preschooler and all my original ideas of “mommyhood” have pretty much gone out the window. The “plan” of what type of mother I would be? Um… Yeah… The plan is now called survival.

The TV has babysat while I have attempted to clean the house. The Iphone has entertained during grocery shopping. Candy has been used for “positive reinforcement” (aka bribery). I have lied for convenience. (I am not proud it.)

Thank God for my mama friends— veteran moms, new moms, moms of one or a dozen, we are in it together with hilarious stories, pep talks, solid advice, and most importantly, no judgment! It is that awesome connection with other moms that has inspired this blog, with friends Ellyn and Annabelle.

When a new pregnant mom asks what she should expect? I haven’t the slightest idea. I do know that if you think you have a plan it will unravel again and again and again. Seriously. We are figuring it out as we go along.

Welcome to our blog!

-Tara