The Mommies' Diaries…Parenting, One Blog at a Time.

The other day was my turn to drive carpool to soccer practice after school.  It’s always a little chaotic gathering the three girls I am responsible for, plus my other two kids, making sure they all have their cleats, shin guards, and water bottles amidst the usual disarray of elementary school pick up.  I got them all to my minivan and received a text from on the girl’s mothers.  “Do you have Susie?” it said.  I usually check in with all the moms before I leave, but must have left the playground before saying goodbye.  I quickly texted back that yes I had Susie and we were on our way to soccer.

It made me stop and think how simple that exchange was and what did we ever do before everyone walked around with a cell phone and could instantly communicate.  What would that other mom have done if we didn’t have cell phones??  Would she have just trusted that I had her daughter?  Would she have driven by the soccer field to make sure she was there?  Called and left a message at my house and asked me to call her asap when I returned from dropping off the girls?  A simple text exchange saved so much time and worry.  How did our mothers survive without all the means of communication we have today?

My very first job out of college was in an office of about 40 people.  There were two computers in the whole office, one on the receptionist’s desk that she used for work processing and the other in the accountant’s office.  I remember the excitement when finally everyone in the office got a computer, then came the ability to send email internally.  My office mate and I would send each other emails about where we wanted to go for lunch when we easily could have just turned our chairs around and spoke to each other just because it was so fun.  Then came the one computer in the office that had access to the World Wide Web, then soon enough everyone’s computer had access to the www.  When I left the workforce eight years ago to raise my kids everyone had a cell phone, multiple email addresses, and instead of looking something up at the library we just Googled it instead.

Even though I no longer work outside the home in a fancy office, technology is such an integral part of my day.  My husband and I communicate via text or email, instead of a scrapbook I have a blog chronicling my children’s early years, and play dates are all arranged via email.    I remember my mom’s binder that she kept right next to the kitchen phone (the phone with the ten foot long cord because only rich people had cordless phones).  That binder had class lists for my sister and I along with phone tree information for every club, team or committee that our family was involved with.  When’s the last time you used the term phone tree?  If I asked my kids what a phone tree was they would probably answer those cell phone towers that are made to look like real trees.

I just stop and marvel sometimes how much information exchange is done with computers and cell phones.  It makes me wonder what marvelous things will come about that will have my children saying, “How did you survive without this mom?!”

Dear Readers,

When I last wrote, I was getting ready for our big IEP for Cubby.  I was not looking forward to sitting in a room with a bunch of school administrators, therapists and me and all of us focusing on the things that my poor boy didn’t do well.  I had an idea of what I wanted to have happen. I know they had an idea of what they hoped to see happen.  The big unknown was if those two expectations would meet.

It quickly became clear that every person in that room had an interest in doing what was necessary to help Cubby become successful.  It was painful to hear about all the ways that he wasn’t fulfilling that goal in the current situation, but it wasn’t new information.  I think that I approached it from the perspective that we have worked so long and he has worked so hard to master the skills needed to be in a typical school setting that I thought it would be enough. I wanted it to be enough.  I marvel daily at the difference between him this year compared to last year.  When it became clear to us that he wasn’t quite there, I was really disappointed.  

At the end of a few hours we had a plan.  I was getting everything on my list and a bit more.  I had gone in expecting a fight and instead got thoughtful discussion, expert advice, and insight from professionals that have far more experience than I do when it comes to helping kids be successful in school.  I really appreciated the team work aspect of it.  I am embarrassed at how I assumed the worst.   They were beyond helpful and I am thankful for this wonderful team. 

Cubby will be in a special day class for the rest of kindergarten.  The bummer part is that the special day class is at a different elementary school.  That makes four kids in four schools.  I am still working on the logistics of that one.  He has been so excited to walk to school with his big sister and he is pretty bummed about that.   He has a lot of anxiety about school right now and his common statement to me is that he is scared to go to school because “he doesn’t know what is coming”.  I am not totally sure what that means, but I know my kid loves routine and kindergarten must be too much unpredictability for him.   

After we visited the special day classroom he told me “I love this place”.  It was calm and quiet. There were picture schedules and behavior cues everywhere.  There is a sensory corner for kids that are feeling out of sorts with their body.  The teachers are pretty good at not reacting to kids that try to get out of doing stuff they don’t understand by creating a diversion (in Cubby’s case–running away or throwing a tantrum).  They just redirect the child and teach them that they will have to finish the task at hand.   In fact, that classroom was set up the way our house is.  The things that we have modified at home to help him be successful are the things in that room.  

This was not the choice that I would have imagined would be best for him, but it is easy for me to see that he is going to do really well in this situation.  I am excited to see him thrive and learn. I can’t wait for the day when he comes home and talks about how fun school is and is excited to go back.  I’ll keep you updated.

Living in the Bay Area can guarantee you one thing, diversity.  There are people from every race, creed, and culture living in the Bay.  OK, I am not positive that EVERY race is covered but you get the point.

My street is about as diverse as it gets.  Caucasians, Korean, Indian, Portuguese, Italians, British, Jewish and Chinese all living in the 20 houses on my street.  It makes for great conversation and many learning experiences for my child and I.  My daughter understands we take our shoes off at our Korean neighbors house.  I have explained to some extent, that our Indian neighbors put lights on there house in October because they celebrate Diwali.  The list goes on.

Having such diverse friends allows us to experience many cultural traditions.  It has opened my eyes to so many things that I didn’t know about before!  It is pretty cool for this mid-western girl who grew up surrounded by only white people for miles and miles.  My friends from different cultures have helped me many times deal with things that I didn’t understand.  Friday night I had the opportunity to learn more.

A girlfriend stopped by my house to drop something off.  We talked a little about what we were doing over the weekend and she told me she was going to a Bat Mitzvah.  I was intrigued because ever since I read Certain Girls I have wanted to attend an “over the top” bar mitzvah.  I actually became interested in attending one, in general, since I have never experienced one.

My girlfriend asked me what amount of money was appropriate to give for a gift.  I wasn’t sure.  I suggested $50 since it isn’t a close friends child.  Again, I wasn’t sure.  My girlfriend left and I thought about it some more.  I know!  I would call my father.

My father converted to Judaism awhile back.  It is such a long story as to why that I am not going to get into it here, but I was sure he would know.  I picked up the phone and was quickly reminded that it was close to midnight on the East Coast.  I didn’t think my dad would like that so I hung up.  Who could I ask????

After thinking for awhile, I knew that I did indeed have a Jewish friend that must know!  I called her up at 8:30 p.m. on Friday night.  This is not a friend that I would normally call up on a weekend night so I am sure she though it was weird.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Lia.  I have a really weird question but I think you can help.  What is the appropriate amount of money to give someone for a Bat Mitzvah?”

“Hm, well hang on because I happen to be with a bunch of Jews that will know for sure.”  She asked the people she was with and then it got good.

“Where is the party at?”

“Hm, I don’t know.  I am actually not going it is for a friend.”  I had no idea that would matter.

“Well, in New York it would probably be about $200.  Around here though it would probably be between $75-$125 depending on how close you were.”

BINGO!  Look at that! All the help I needed, just a phone call away!  Don’t ever tell me that living in a diverse area isn’t a good thing.  I can give you a million reasons that isn’t true starting with a simple phone call!

Last week, I got an awesome email from a friend of mine whom I haven’t seen in several months.  She is pregnant, and had re-read my birth story and wanted to send me a note of thanks for my support, and to say that she was excited to soon be joining the sisterhood of motherhood.  I had never really thought of motherhood as a type of sisterhood – but it makes complete sense.

Motherhood is what brings long lost friends together, it’s what sparks playgroups with people you had never met before, and it’s what motivates outings with other women who have children the same age as your own.  It is the driving force behind so many efforts that encourage unity.  Motherhood can turn strangers into “sisters.”  Before we know it, we are sharing our deepest, darkest secrets with another mom just because we had found camaraderie over our children’s public tantrum.

However, like in any sisterhood, there are challenges in the relationship.  Sisters can be competitive, caddy, hurtful, insensitive and intolerant.  Sisters can often get so comfortable in their togetherness that they forget to celebrate their uniqueness.  There are moments in motherhood where we feel confident, and moments when we feel completely misunderstood and isolated.  There are moments when we feel as though we’ve joined the coolest club on earth, and other moments when we feel like we’ve been chosen last for the team.

I have realized more and more that motherhood is such a personal journey.  While becoming a mom in and of itself isn’t the story – it’s how long it took for us to conceive, how much weight we gained during pregnancy, how long we labored for, what we felt the moment we set eyes on our baby for the first time, how we approach sleep training, etc. that makes the story.  That’s the part that gives us our identity as a mom – and that’s the part that is largely scrutinized, celebrated, supported or even envied by other moms.

As moms who are already in this club, this sisterhood, we have to remember that there are other women out there who are either chomping at the bit, or are absolutely terrified, to be welcomed into our alliance.   We need to talk of our journey as it relates to us, as an individual.  We need to be mindful that others might not have it as easy as we have, or still others who don’t need to hear about all of our negative experiences.  We just need to be there for each other – with genuinely welcoming and open arms.

This sisterhood of motherhood is not always a place to lead, or teach, or influence.  Sometimes, most of the time really, it’s a place to just “be.”  It should be a safe place to be understood without ever having to say a word.  As I learn, and I grow, and I discover the value of this sisterhood – I realize how delicately we must tread to preserve its sacredness.  Mostly, I have learned this the hard way, by unintentionally hurting my “sisters” by callously sharing my own story as if it were the only version.

If motherhood is truly a sisterhood, then we have got to start treating our comrades like family – offering forgiveness, compassion, kinship, and security.  We’ve got to embrace this community for all of its diversity amidst the fundamental commonplace – we are mothers.  Mothers who love our children and who desperately need the village to help us raise them up.

So I am back on progesterones. Next steps is to get my period and take some more blood tests. These tests are required in order to enroll in the “infertility group.” Just hearing those words really makes my skin crawl. I mean, wow. I know that the doctor said that I’d have to be in this program to get access to clomid, but it just sounds so wrong. I almost feel like I am not a woman, totally broken.

My husband also had to partake some action to get us enrolled. He would have to provide a sperm count. As I had mentioned in my last posting, we laughed about it. To be quite honest, he felt a bit awkward to have to masturbate and get it into a cup. I tried to make him feel better by telling him that it’s better than peeing on a stick and getting it on you. Between you and I, I think what my husband has to do is far more uncomfortable, but hey, lots of guys have to do it, right? Well, if you are going through what I am going through. Luckily, the nurse said that he can do it in the morning and drop off the cup within 1 hour.

The next day, we got results and he is perfectly normal. Actually, he was above average, so at least the hubs has good quality sperm. Now if only my brain would tell my eggs to ovulate. I just don’t get it. I was perfectly normal before. What happened ? How could my brain not tell my eggs to go? So strange.

It’s been 4 days being on the progesterones. I feel somewhat tired and more hungry. I have been munching away. My latest cravings have been bread dipped in olive oil with lots of freshly grinded pepper. I can eat like 3 slices of bread. SO GOOD! A week before the new update and me taking progesterones again, my sleep was starting to become normal. Instead of tossing and turning until 3 am, which would take me about 3 hours to fall asleep, I was able to knock out in 30 minutes. Post update and progesterones, my sleep disorders has returned. In the last few days, I’ve only been able to sleep around 4 1/2 hours a day. I don’t know if its the hormones, the stress, or what, but it’s not been fun. Hopefully my period will come and we can start the blood testing and get to the next steps.

Update…very strange.  I haven’t received my period yet and I’ve taken all 7 of the progesterones as told.  I just sent an email to my doctor about this.  What is going on? I am so frustrated?

I’ve realized a couple of benefits from the kids being in sports that I never hear anybody talk about.  I realized the first benefits when I was watching my son wrestle in junior high school.  He used to talk to me about how he felt awkward at times in class; that sometimes he felt lost like he couldn’t keep up and that, in turn, made him feel different than the other kids.

When he joined wrestling, however, things changed.  He learned discipline because he had to keep his grades up in order to participate with the team.  Being on a team creates an environment of camaraderie, a spirit of brotherhood and sisterhood (yes, there are female wrestlers now), and he didn’t want to lose that.

My son’s self esteem rose along with this camaraderie.  He was part of an effort where others relied on him to do his job so they could win as the sum of a team effort.  He seemed more at ease with himself, and when he got on the mat, he was more prepared as time went by.

As a wrestler myself when I was in high school, I was excited to see him compete.  As soon as he got his first win, he realized how powerful he was and, in turn, so did I.  This is when I first realized he was growing up.  He was throwing 160 pound opponents around like dolls.  This also explained why my neck hurt when he used to hug me goodnight when he was three years old!  I felt pride when he got a point taken away because he virtually body slammed an opponent (not knowing this was against the rules).  Blame it on the WWE.  My son was growing up before my eyes.

Now, my youngest daughter plays field hockey in high school.  She’s in her third year and a real leader on the field.  She coaches the rookies on the team while the game is in play, backs up her teammates when mistakes are made, and never gives up when she lets the opponent move past her.

When a game is over and her team has won, the girls get together in a big circle and turn on the music.  They chose Shakira’s Waka Waka song (the song she was asked to write for World Cup Soccer this past year) as their celebration dance.  My daughter doesn’t like to dance publicly, but being part of a team makes you do things you wouldn’t normally do under normal circumstances.  The adrenalin is rushing and there she was, dancing with her teammates and coach on an open field with people all around watching them.  And she was enjoying it.  She may not have been the most enthusiastic of all the team members, but she was feeling free and liberated.

My daughter was growing up.  I realized she’s a leader when she wants to be, has to be.  She has the ability to let go of her fears when she feels she can and when the environment is safe.  And her smile is just as big as it was when she was three years old.

Sports has all kinds of benefits for teens.  I would be amiss to not point out that camaraderie has a downside as well, like everything else.  There is pressure to recognize each other wherever you are and to participate together in functions outside of the sport, like parties where alcohol and drugs are involved.  A characteristic of high school, not just camaraderie created by sports.  It’s a strong thing because it fills the need every student wants desperately to fill – the need to belong and fit in.

Watching the kids develop through sports gave me confidence that they were learning important life lessons they would be able to use when they were out on their own.  Life experiences they could draw from.  A realization that there were lessons out there that could be taught to them by others – other than their parents.  And that’s a good realization!

I like to cook. I don’t consider myself an exceptional gourmet chef or anything, but I can hold my own in a kitchen and I enjoy it. While I was still a young, working girl I had all these visions of the fantastic meals I would cook every day when I was a stay at home mom and had so much more time to cook. Ha! I wish I could go back in time and tell that girl to cook the fantastic meals before her freezer was full of frozen waffles and chicken nuggets and dinner better be ready by the time Arthur is over or there’s going to be a lot of whining.

But even though I don’t have two free hours before dinner time to cook elaborate meals, I still enjoy it. I have definite ideas about how I feed my family and how food fits into our lives. My family food philosophy is not the point of this post though.

As much as I like to cook, deciding what we will eat for 21 meals a week can drive me insane sometimes. It’s just too much pressure to decide what the four other people in my little family will eat for each meal.  Cereal and popcorn are apparently frowned upon as dinner choices for elementary aged children.  I have tried planning ahead for the week, but somehow that just never works for me.   There is a reason our mothers had Meatloaf Monday, Taco Tuesday and Fish Stick Friday.

Most of the time, my husband is no help. I can’t imagine why, but when I call him at 7:30am wondering what he wants for dinner it seems to be the last thing on his mind.  I don’t mind preparing the meal, I just want someone else to decide what the meal will consist of.  But I need to know at 7:30am so I can plan a trip to the grocery store if need be.

So I decided to enlist the help of my kids and I’m happy to report it has been a great success so far. I let each of them choose what we would have for dinner one night a week. Their choices surprised and delighted me.   They loved looking through my cookbooks picking something out and helping me cook on their night.  One of my daughters chose tortilla chip coated chicken with spicy cole slaw, the other chose roasted tomato soup and grilled cheese and my son chose Vietnamese noodle soup.

Despite our success, I’m not sure if I will be doing this every week though since I asked my son what he felt like for dinner tonight and he answered root beer floats and plums.  How do you plan meals?  Are you a weekly meal planner or an open the pantry and see what we can find kind of cook?

This is an out take from our cover photo shoot. I am as interested in seeing what they finally managed to get as much as the next guy

Today is the day that we have been working towards for almost a year.  It is the day of the dreaded IEP (Individualized Education Plan) at school.  My little Cubby is a common topic on this blog. You might think that he was my only child..or even my only child with special needs.  His are just the kind of needs that suck the energy and patience out of the room and all adults in a 20 foot radius.  It really isn’t his fault that instead of having an extra chromosome and a diagnosis that lends itself to constant cheerfulness and sweet behavior– like his sister Gracie– he got the stuck with the kinds of unique needs that makes it hard for him to function in every day life.   He just needs to move, and wiggle and fidget.  When he feels scared he gets aggressive and even though I know he is mostly bark and no bite, others do not.   His needs are the kind that make life in a typical kindergarten room very hard (for both him and his teacher).

Today we get together with all his teachers and therapists and representivies from the school district and talk about the ways that we can help him be successful.  Some modifications to the classroom will likely follow (for example, he does well with a picture schedule so he can anticipate what is coming next and can use that visual cue to adapt his behavior and we will also have an established “time out” place for him. Not for when he is in trouble, but for when he just needs to take a step back and regroup).  We will put a plan in place for what to do when he just isn’t hacking it that day.   Classes and support on a district level will be provided and all of us will work together as a team to be sure he gets what he is legally entitled to (an education) but also what he deserves (to learn how to be part of a community).  He has a long way to go, but practice, practice, practice is the way to get there.   I am both nervous and excited.

Also, during the course of his evaluation for the district, I learned that he scored extremely low on his verbal processing tests. I already knew that he had some issues with language and we have somewhat adapted at home to compensate for that.   When you have been in the business of special education as long as I have, you sort of assume you have heard it all. In the past 6 years of mothering this child, I didn’t think that there would be anything new about him that I didn’t know.   When the Speech Therapist asked me if I had ever heard of Audio Processing Disorder because she was pretty sure he had that, I was floored.  How had I not heard of this before?  In all my researching of his symptoms and diagnosis, how had I not crossed this one?   Did I see it before and just brush it off and not remember?   When I read the indicators of APD I knew that I had never seen this before because  it was as if they had based the description on my son.   Ding Ding Ding.  It was a wake up call.  There is ALWAYS something new to be learned. Having the eyes and ears and advice and experience of others is usually a good thing when it comes to our kids that have needs that sit outside the typical box (and frankly, it is helpful for ALL kids).  Often, the hard part is knowing where to turn to get that help.    I have access to support groups (Down Syndrome Network, Sensory Disorder Yahoo groups, my local Early Intervention parent support group) but many people are not already plugged in–and like myself, even those that are need to access resources occasionally.

Parenting on the Peninsula is doing a special insert for the October issue that is going to focus on special needs/special education. It will be a pull-out that you can hang on to that will be full of information, phone numbers and most importantly, a picture of my family on the cover (What? That isn’t the most important part for you? ).  As we all navigate this unpredictable road of parenting, more information is usually a good thing.  At the very least, this will cover basic info and all folks that you can contact first if you suspect your child has an issue that needs extra support.  Everything from agencies to therapies.  It will even have my contact info somewhere, and if you don’t know where to turn for a particular need, you can just let me know and I can help you figure it out (plugged in parents have access to the right people to ask… it can be hard to crack the initial shell of the agency system….).  The special needs community is a pretty small one and I am pretty sure we can get you headed in the right direction.  And then our kids can have a play date because my house is already baby proofed/sensory kid proofed/mom equipped with lots of cheese and Diet Coke.   And my kids have already done everything you are worried your kids will do.  And broken everything there is to break. And we still like them, so chances are, we will still like you too.

Since LG was about 2 years old, the music in my car has been dominated by children’s music.  I have always been okay with it because it has kept LG happy and made car rides much easier.  Just recently I have started to get tired of it. “The Wheel’s On the Bus” have been sung too many times to count.  If I have to hear a Music Together CD one more time I might cry.

Enter McDonald’s….

Yes, I said it, McDonald’s.  A year or so ago we drove down to Palm Springs.  We stopped on the way at good ol’ Mickey D’s and LG ordered up a Happy Meal.  The Happy Meal came with a KidzBop CD.  LG loved it!  We loved it!  Music that we actually like that isn’t too rough on the ears.  We ended up collecting a few of those CD’s (don’t judge).

I will admit, I am in love with KidzBop!  We have several of the CD’s now and I love that I get to listen to popular music that I like with lyrics that are appropriate for my child.  I love that LG sings along with the music.  It makes us all happy.  I do have to laugh when I am with friends and I sing the KidzBop version and they all laugh at me knowing exactly where that came from.

If you haven’t tried out KidzBop yet, I highly suggest it!  It just might be music to your “tired of children’s music” ears.

As I was thinking about what to write on this week, I had to chuckle to myself.  I noticed a trend in my writing.  No matter the topic, no matter the challenge, I always seem to find the silver lining somewhere near the last paragraph of every blog entry. I realized that I might be making some of you sick while I reach (sometimes with every last fiber in my body) to find a positive spin on an otherwise exhausting message.  I wouldn’t blame you.

The truth is, this parenting thing is hard.  Really hard.  And, there are some days when quite frankly, the silver lining is finding a way to pee with the bathroom door shut, safe from the tiny pair of eyes that otherwise watch every single move that I make throughout the day.  Sometimes, my only saving grace is remembering the stash of hidden M&M’s from Christmas last year, and devouring them in a corner of my walk-in closet before DJ comes crawling in to find me.

Listen, I don’t want to fool anyone here.  DJ is my first child, she is almost 13 months, and she is wonderful.  I am blessed to have a sweet, calm, and pretty darn funny kid.  She never had colic, she’s only had two colds, and she rarely throws a tantrum outside of being overly exhausted (mostly from my doing as I force my over-achieving ways onto her) from doing too much on any given day.  Yes, I am lucky.  However, just like any other first time mom – I am also largely overwhelmed, struggle with feelings of isolation, and continually curse the last 5 lbs of pregnancy weight that I cannot shed.  I don’t shower every day, can’t remember the last time I put on perfume, and only pay attention to my nails when they get jagged enough to snag on my underwear (granny panties, to keep it honest).

I was trying to figure out why I feel the need to always find an upbeat punch line.  Part of me thinks it’s because someday I will present DJ with a book of all of my writings and I would never want her to think I have regretted a moment of motherhood.  Part of me thinks it’s because I’m terrified that someone will force me to go back to the corporate world full time if they were able to find a loophole in my love for my current role.  And still, part of me is so stinkin worried about being judged for having hard days.  Yes, I know that I need a nap, or time to myself, and that DJ spending time away from me is healthy – but I don’t need that to be the solution I am offered if ever I should say “Today sucked.”  Maybe some days just suck.

Sucky days don’t mean that my love for DJ is any less.  Sucky days don’t mean that I don’t still cherish my role as a mother.  And, they certainly don’t mean that I am not working hard enough at finding the light at the end of the tunnel.  They just mean that I am real, and that my experience of motherhood is genuine, and that I am in fact, in really good company.

So, while today has actually been an awesome day with DJ – I am delighted that she is FINALLY taking a nap.  I am thrilled to finally have some time to myself.  I am relieved to admit to the world that I need time to myself, that I need a break.