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

The time has come for me to scoot along.  I will no longer be the P on the P Preschool Mom blogger.  While I am so sad that I have had to resign this job I am THRILLED because I finally have landed a full time jo that I LOVE!  It has taken me a very long time to go after the life that I want to have.  My pending divorce has really allowed me to blossom as the woman I truly want to be.  I am excited to see where this new life will take me.

LG is not so happy.  The fact that I have to “go to work” instead of working from home has thrown her.  It is pretty funny since I work mostly when she is in school.  Sure, she is going to after school care 2 days a week but she LOVES that.  I think it is just the thought of me being gone.  I find it really interesting.  I can see this is just going to be another change we deal with.  We both will be fine but there will be some kinks to work out.

I am very lucky that my new job is very flexible.  I can work from home if I need to.  I will be off every day by 4 so I can be present with LG in the afternoons.  I can still go on field trips and be the room mom.  I love that!!!  There is a HUGE bonus to working for a small company who’s President has kids and is very supportive of my single momhood.  I really couldn’t have gotten more lucky.

DJ has morphed into some sort of Kung-Fu Master.  Yep, that’s right, my sweet little girl has abandoned her Velcro Stride Rites for a black belt in karate.  The very feet that used to gently pitter-patter all over our house are now being used as weapons.  And somewhere along the line, I have unwillingly become her sparring partner.

DJ will be 15 months old in six days.  Apparently, this aggressive behavior is normal.  In fact, I was on the phone with a friend the other day, and as we were talking about our kids, she asked “Is DJ getting bossy?”  I responded, “We call it ‘opinionated’ around here, but yes, yes she is.”  She told me not to worry, that her son (about 18 months older than DJ) was still hitting and biting in an attempt to get his way.  Thank God DJ hasn’t figured out that she can also use her little chompers as an assault force – though, I’m sure that pleasantry is coming soon.

As DJ’s sense of independence increases, so does her frustration.  She wants so badly to explore and accomplish things on her own, and gets very angry when anyone interferes with her plans.  She is babbling up a storm, and I’m sure growing weary from our misinterpretation of her two-syllable gibberish.  She does not like to be ignored, and will take negative attention over no attention.  I have read plenty to understand that I am not the first mother of a toddler to battle on this field.  Still, having company on this stretch of the journey doesn’t make the experience any more enjoyable.

I’ve noticed that as soon as we get into a groove, DJ changes her rhythm.  If I’m not quick to catch on to the new way of doing things, then her temper flares.  This has been so enjoyable….NOT. For instance, my previously schedule-resistant child is now a complete disaster if we should deviate from her daily routine.  If she should get to sleep even 30 minutes later than her regular bedtime, then her bed turns into a full blown fighting ring.  When she gets overly exhausted, she gets sort of crazy – and this is a when her Kung-Fu Master alter ego takes over.  She kicks me (repeatedly) in the face.  As I sternly tell her “NO!,” she laughs at me – her very fake, very intentional, very deceptive laugh.  This has become my new reality.

Lucky for me, the word “timeout” is usually threatening enough to stop her behavior – although, I try not to abuse that tactic.  Halting her bad behavior is utterly exhausting, but I know that the alternative approach of letting it go because I can barely muster up the energy to correct her for the 702^nd time of the day, would be far worse.  I am constantly questioning my reaction. Have I been too lenient?  Have I been too strict?

All I know is that this child-rearing business is a tough field.  Trying not to laugh when DJ does something unbelievably mischievous is almost as hard as trying not to break down in tears over the frustration of repeating myself constantly.  I find myself explaining and justifying to others that this bratty behavior is normal.  Luckily, those who are parents (or dear friends of mine who trust that I’m not intentionally creating a monster) totally understand it and offer their condolences support.  Those who aren’t parents, look horrified – as I once did, before I was living it.

I have a feeling that these battles will continue on for the rest of our lives as mother and daughter; they’ll just look different as the years go on.  I imagine that someday down the road, when the mere thought of me disgusts DJ, I will be remembering the good old days of Kung-Fu.

Last week, I really got deep and unveiled something that I felt profoundly inside and somewhat ashamed of.   I mean I do want kids, Lord knows how much I have been trying, If I could snap my fingers, I’d want kids now, but then there is that part of me that doesn’t feel ready..but when are you ready?

Before we started “trying” to have a baby, I always responded, “We’re not ready yet.”  But really, when are you ready?  I always envisioned being married, owning a home, a good job, being financially stable, and then having children.  It’s funny how we perceive these particular elements as tradition, and how it’s been programmed into our heads that this is how life should be.  You see this in movies, read it in stories, and learn it in school and just how we got to this being “the way it’s supposed to be?”  Our perspective on life 5 years ago have changed so much and I don’t feel like there is nothing wrong with it.   As a matter of fact, movies and stories have even evolved to fit how this perspective.  For example, shows today, you see single parents raising perfect kids and are happy with how things are.  You see gay couples raising children in movies.  You see single hardworking women at the age of 40 with no men in their life, that they decide to get a donor to have a baby, which reminds me, I loved that recent Jennifer Lopez movie.  I think we all see this and to me, it seems like the world is just never ready.

Life is so difficult now.  The economy is just totally crap, people are losing jobs, homes, are in debt, and just working so much, that they don’t have time to either find their soul mates or like me, have time to have children.  We get so used to where we are at and time flies right before our eyes and before we know it, it’s already 2011.  Where did the time go? I can’t even believe we are having Thanksgiving this week?! I mean my gawd! Wasn’t it just summer yesterday?

I’ve been so busy with taking care of me that I’m here now, trying to conceive, and I’m already 30 going on 31 (and the hubby is 32 going on 33)….still, I don’t feel completely ready?  That is just being honest…A good friend told me that you never are ready…you just have to do it…and when it is your time, you will be, because when the baby is in your hands and its yours…that will all change.



I’ve always loved Thanksgiving.  I mean, what’s not to love?  A day spent with family or good friends, enjoying a meal and taking a break from the chaos of everyday life to be grateful.  I love crisp fall air, the changing colors on the trees in my backyard, I love flipping through my cookbooks planning new recipes to try along with the old favorites.

Ever since my sister and I graduated from college and my mom relinquished hosting duties, my sister has taken on the role of hostess and we share the cooking.  In the years before we had kids we’d get up early in the morning, run in the local turkey trot 5K, spend the day cooking and then sit down to enjoy a long, leisurely meal.  My brother-in-law and I might spend the next day playing darts, or we’d spend the whole day watching movies.  I look back on those days fondly, but there was something missing.

Then we got married and along the kids.  Our first Thanksgiving with kids was when my twins were three months old.  It definitely had a different feel as my babies slept on my sisters bed while we ate our Thanksgiving dinner.  Soon the girls were joined by a cousin, and before we knew it, there were five kids sitting around the kids table.

Thanksgiving definitely took on a very different feel once there were five kids under the age of five.  We still cooked a full Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings, but as you can imagine we also spent a lot of time corralling kids and not a lot of time sitting around the table sipping wine.  The day became increasingly loud and chaotic.   I remember one Thanksgiving in particular when my son was a baby where I didn’t sit down to eat at all.  We would leave my poor sister with a sink full of dishes as we rushed out in order to get our sleepy, cranky kids to bed.

But last Thanksgiving I noticed another shift.  The kids range in age from four to eight now.  They sat down at the kids table, ate their food, then ran off to play together.  Simple as that.  The adults actually sat around and chatted at the table.

This year was even better.  My sister, my mom and I worked in the kitchen, at a relaxed pace.  The dad’s watched football and kicked the soccer ball around the backyard with the kids.  When the kids finished eating, they ran off to rehearse their Thanksgiving show that the adults enjoyed as we finished up our second helpings of food.

After pie the kids put on their jammies and we all sat around the fireplace.  There was no rush, rush, hurry, hurry to get the cranky kids home.  We left my sister with a sparkling clean kitchen and a fridge full of leftovers.

It felt like a day of creating traditions and memories for our young families rather than just trying to survive the chaos.  I’m sure I will look back on these years fondly when they all become teenagers and would rather spend the day texting their friends than tossing the football with their parents.

My mom comes over from across the bay to visit DJ at least once a week.  It’s always a really special time for the three of us – three generations of strong, independent, adventurous, and really fun (if I do say so myself) girls.  Sometimes we have exciting plans like building sandcastles at the beach, and sometimes we don’t have any plans at all.  No matter what, we always have a great time.

Last week was one of those weeks when we didn’t have any specific plans.  The weather was beautiful, so we decided to walk several blocks to a neighborhood restaurant for lunch.  We ordered a tuna sandwich and house salad to share, with a side of egg salad for DJ.  Much to our dismay (insert sarcasm here), our sandwich came with French fries….guess we had to eat them.

DJ has been growing more and more irritated with the concept of sitting.  This makes meal times extremely stressful for me, as she already eats like a bird.  I am constantly worried that she’s not eating enough, and now, without sitting still for more than 40 seconds, I am convinced that she instantly burns whatever calories she ingests.  How she has enough energy to even support her body’s automatic functions like breathing is sometimes beyond me.  (Though I am thankful for such mysteries in life).

About five minutes into our lunch, DJ lost interest in her egg salad and began reaching for my tuna sandwich.  Lord knows it’s not gonna hurt me (or my hips) to sacrifice a few calories, so I gladly gave it up.  For those of you who have a kid who doesn’t enjoy eating, then you can relate to the sense of satisfaction felt when they actually “ask” for something off their plate, or yours.  You can probably also relate to sometimes allowing them to eat foods that you swore you’d never give to them – like French fries.  They see “yummy,” and you see “CALORIES.”  Go for it, kid.

After eating part of my tuna sandwich, DJ wanted a French fry.   My mom and I looked at one another, and elated over her interest, couldn’t hand the fry over to her quickly enough.  DJ took a little taste and then began motioning toward my plate.  I thought perhaps she wanted to try some ketchup, so I dipped it and returned it to her tiny tuna-laden hand.  She got a little fussy, handed it back, and then began her routine of fidgeting, wiggling, throwing food and growling – her signal for being done with the meal.

My mom and I began eating faster, knowing that we had suddenly been catapulted into borrowed time.  As we were finishing up, an older woman approached our table.  I figured she was just another admirer of DJ’s who was inevitably going to gush on and on about how adorable my kid was.  You can imagine my surprise when she decided to school me in mothering.

“You know, you missed the sign.”  I was dumbfounded.  What sign?  The “No kids allowed in this restaurant” sign?  The “No giggling at your table” sign?  The woman recognized my confusion and said, “The French fry.  You dipped her French fry in ketchup and when you gave it back to her, she tried to tell you she didn’t want it.  She tried telling you.  She didn’t want it on her plate.  You missed it.  You missed the sign.”  And with those two cents jammed down my throat, she walked away.

I was mortified.  Some old woman thought that I was a bad mom (or at least a disengaged mom), and she had the audacity to point it out in front of my own mother.  I felt knee high to ant – shrinking in my seat.  If I was going to be called out like that, why couldn’t it have been over one of my famous quinoa bakes, or spinach frittatas?  Why couldn’t a complete stranger have seen DJ reject my apple and sweet potato compote, or my chicken and brown rice roll-ups?  I was embarrassed to have been lectured over a darn fry – of all things.

I am continually amazed by the unsolicited advice that strangers offer parents.  I can still remember where I was standing the first time someone shouted (literally, yelled from their car window as I walked through a parking lot) their opinion at me when DJ was just a few weeks old.  I was crushed, and have never forgotten the piercing sting of the “You’re doing it all wrong” message unloaded on me that day.  No matter how wonderful I feel about the job that I’m doing as DJ’s mom, comments like these have a way of shaking my confidence.  Because I have a sneaking suspicion that people will never learn to keep their mouths shut, I am hoping that I can at least learn to take their words with a grain of salt.

This parenting stuff is hard.  I’m just 14 ½ months into it, and I question myself about one thing or another at least once a day.  I have no notes to refer to, no experience to call upon, no guidebook, and sometimes not even a clue about how to handle certain situations (like the day DJ had a rock solid poop stuck halfway out of her bottom).  These uncertain moments are terrifying, and can bring you to your knees (in both agony, and laughter – there is always laughter once these unbelievable predicaments are resolved).  However, I sure could do without the bully beat down from you better-than folks out there.

My mom just shrugged her shoulders at the confrontation, and never uttered another word about it.  That’s wisdom I tell ya – she allowed the woman to rant, and then let her opinion dissipate into thin air the moment that curmudgeon walked away from us.  Please dear God, let me become calloused and unaffected long before I become a grandma!

Little did Mrs. Intuitive know, she missed a sign too – a “sweet” little hand gesture from me as she turned her back.  Immature, absolutely.  Empowering, heck yes!

During Halloween week this year, I learned something about the process of growing up.  No, I’m not talking about my children.  I’m talking about me.

Halloween was fast approaching and my youngest daughter is at the age where I knew she would want to spend the holiday with her friends.  I had gone through this with my two older children, but she is my last so I knew this would be a bit different.

As a single Dad, you split your time and you have a lot less time than a full time father to do the unique holidays for various reasons such as they don’t fall on the calendar date you spend with the children.

It’s always been difficult for me to give up time with the kids because the time I spend with them is already cut in half.  I have tried to be real about the fact that they would grow up and would need to spend more time with their friends than they would with me.  So, when they needed to attend dances, sports, choir, or an excursion with friends, I’ve said okay nearly every time.

This year, she had a field hockey tournament the day before, carved pumpkins with her siblings at her mom’s house, and had a friend she typically trick or treats with.

This year, I decided to take a proactive approach to the way I was feeling pretty terminal about the whole holiday. So, instead of focusing on the fact that I wasn’t going to spend Halloween with her, I focused on what ‘I’ was going to do to have a good time.

And so that weekend, I finished making my Halloween costume and attended not one, but two Halloween parties with someone special.  And it wasn’t just good, it turned out great!

I didn’t worry about whether my daughter was having a good time or not – she always does.  I very much enjoyed myself and really let go for the first time in years.

I realized after that weekend, that it’s not the fact that I didn’t get to share the holiday with her, but rather the fact that I was realizing she was growing up.  Things were different now and there wouldn’t be a ‘next year’.

And that’s one of life’s biggest lessons, isn’t it?  That we can never go back.  That we should always enjoy every moment right now.  That there is happiness after they grow up.  And that there is even a time that when separation becomes joy.

I am feeling really good lately.  I just have a really good hunch and from some of my readers, I’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback and they, too, have a good feeling.  Please keep them coming…

It’s funny how life is.  When you want something, sometimes you don’t have it or you can’t.  When you don’t want it, it seems to be so easy to get.  I recall a few years ago, how I was on the pill and the reason why I was on it..to not get pregnant.   Traditionally, you meet the man of your life, you get married and then you have kids.  It’s almost as if that’s how it’s supposed to be.   To be quite honest, I can see myself with kids but then again, I can see myself without them.

Growing up, I was an only child.  I never really had my parents around because they were struggling to make ends meet, so they’d work 2 jobs.  I had some babysitters but that got expensive.  By the time I was in 2nd grade, I would stay home alone until 7 pm.  No biggie, I mean, we lived in a pretty safe apartment buildings and the neighbors across and above had kids my age, so we were always playing and being monitored by their parents.  I always wanted a brother or a sister, so I’d talk to an imaginary person when my friends weren’t around.  I always envied those kids.  I daydreamed how fun it would be to have someone else there.  Life went on and my friends were all I really had.  They were so important to me because they were there when no one else was.

By high school, my parents divorced.  I was living with my dad.  My dad married very quickly, so I ended up with a step brother.  He was 5 years younger than me.  Looking back, I feel bad, because although we had some good times, we could have had more.  I was still fixated with my friends that I’d always leave the house, aside from that, I was active in sports, so I was mostly out.  I also started working at the age of 15, so with work till 10:30 pm, school, friends, I didn’t have too much time with my brother.

My first year of college, I moved to the bay area.  I stayed with my mom for a while to get my finances in check.  She was already married to another man and he had 2 kids.  All of a sudden, I had 2 sisters.  One was in elementary school and the other was in middle school.  Again, my friends and work were my first priority.  I was working 2 jobs so I’d come home by 11:30 pm.  On my days off, I’d spend it with my friends.  I don’t recall spending much time with the kids, but looking back, I wish I did.

It’s so funny how I wanted brothers and sisters so bad that when the opportunity presented itself, I was stuck caring about myself.  That is how I feel about this whole pregnancy thing.  At first, I didn’t want kids.   I was afraid of being a bad parent, gaining weight but most of all, losing myself.  All my life, I’ve grown to be so independent and doing what I want to do when I wanted,  many will say that I’m selfish, and I am not afraid to admit to that.  If I want to sleep in, I can, if I want to get up and meet my friends or go shopping, I can…but with kids, you basically lose all of that.  I am not saying that having kids is a bad thing because it is one of the best experiences anyone could have, but maybe its not for everyone.

I was on the pill for many years.  My husband has been wanting kids for a few years now but it was me that wasn’t ready.  Now that I am, I can’t.  My hormones are all whacked but maybe deep down inside, I really am not ready for this?  Don’t get me wrong, I have come to realize that I do want kids, but I just hope that I don’t dissapoint myself.  When I say I’m not ready, I’m thinking, am I ready to let go of me and give my full to them.

My toddler, Ace, got glasses yesterday.  I guess I use that term loosely. I “got” them and paid for them, and then I carefully put them on her.   And she promptly threw them off.   So I put them on her again.  And she threw them off, again.   This sounds like a really fun game, huh? You should play it with me eleventy million times a day.  At this point, the person who has had possession of the glasses the most is me.

Toddler glasses come with a strap on the back, like swim goggles. In theory, this is to help them stay on better.   I have found that it just makes them harder take off. I usually get a couple dozen of her tiny white baby hairs with them; frankly she doesn’t have that many to spare.   When I made them so tight that her little eyelids were almost touching the lenses, she came up witha better plan.   Apparently she noticed that when she got them dirty, I would take them off and clean them for her and put them back on.   So, now she sticks her finger in her mouth (or her nose, or the muddy water on the front porch) and wipes them on her glasses.  Off they come to be cleaned.   If I ignore the dirty, she signs to me that she wants them “off”.    How exciting for me that she has finally decided to use direct communication for her needs instead of copying what we do.   Too bad for her that I just sign right back to her her “no”.  I might even come up with a sign for “no way, Sneaky McGee”.   That should be her first lesson in toddler-hood any way.  Mom will always win the war and she is smarter than  you.   

Around dinner time, I just gave up trying.  Ace had a slightly triumphant smirk on her face through dinner.  She would look at the glasses on the table and then look at me and then sign “all done” to me.  I am not sure she noticed the smug look on MY face.   The reinforcements were coming and I let her have her small victory.    Shortly after dinner I pulled out the secret weapon (thanks to the advice of my friend Bae).  Elbow braces.  The kind that kids get after eye surgery to keep their elbows from bending.  They can do everything in the EXCEPT touch their eyes.  BWA HAHAHAHAHAH.

So the score is currently Ace 1 - Mom 1.  The glasses have stayed on but she is letting me know that she isn’t very happy about it.  Even though she is my 4th child, I am still surprised at how manipulative and smart she is being about trying to achieve her end goal (no glasses) and how much harder I have to work to stay a step ahead of her (glasses).     My big kids just spend their time moaning about how come THEY can’t have glasses and she is so LUCKY to get glasses and sneaking them away and trying to wear them at every possible opportunity.  Parenting is FUN.  

I am putting a bounty on the glasses.   Anyone who finds them on the face of a child that doesn’t currently hold a prescription for them gets a quarter.  Any child who finds them anywhere besides the face of toddler Ace gets a quarter AND a piece of candy when they return them to my hands.   This deal beings out the best in my parenting bag of tricks…letting kids police themselves and giving them a bribeincentive for it.   For the record, I learned this trick from my father, who was worried that we would sound like illiterate backwoods adults because as children we were sounding kind of illiterate and backwoods.  Our grammar was, um, inventive.   So he told us that when we caught a sibling using bad grammar, we got 10 cents from them.  Swearing was a dollar.  If you didn’t pay up right away, it doubled.    It was effective then and it is effective now. 

Other mom’s who had done the toddler glasses dance, help? What other tricks do you have for me?

LG goes to Catholic school.   While I am happy with our decision my wallet is hurting a little more every day.  Every time I turn around, the school is asking for more money.  We, of course, pay tuition for LG to go to school, but I had no idea all the other financial requests that came with Catholic school.

It started off the day school started.  The amount of supplies we had to bring per child shocked me.  4 reams of paper!  That is nearly 2000 sheets of paper PER student.  We walked into school with 5 Target bags FULL of supplies.  I was OK with that until the fundraising started.

We have a fundraiser nearly every month.  EVERY MONTH!  In my opinion, you can only go to the well so much before it is out of water.  I can only ask family and friends to support us with buying things so often.  I have had to make a decision about what things I think people are likely to buy versus asking them every time.  I think the month fundraisers are hurting the school rather than helping.  I believe it would be more effective to do a few big fundraisers versus all these little ones.

Next came, the small requests.  $10 here for family lunch.  $5 there for a “fun art project!”  A food drive where my child begs to bring items every day.  Sure they are small requests here and there but they all add up!!  I have had to go buy tuna for “Tuna Tuesday” more than once, haha.

I understand having to support our school.  I also understand that Catholic schools try to keep tuition low so that it is available to more people.  I am beginning to think this approach is wrong.  If tuition doesn’t even come close to covering the needs of the school then I think you gotta raise it.  Can I afford higher tuition?  Not really, but I am sure my parents would rather help with tuition than buying all this crap that we make so little money from.

Want to buy some cookie dough????

If you have been following my blogs since DJ’s birth, then you’ve probably gathered that our parenting style around here most closely resembles attachment parenting.  In fact, I might have even claimed that label at one time or another.  However, as DJ gets older, what I realize is that “modern parenting” more accurately describes our approach.  We aren’t tied to any rules.  We aren’t following any books.  We are simply listening to DJ, our instincts, and our hearts.  We are attuned to our child’s needs, and we are doing our best to fulfill them in healthy, compassionate and constructive ways. Our way is not the only way, or even the best way – it’s just the way that works for our family.

Alright, enough with the disclaimers.  I’m just going to say it – DJ still sleeps with us.  Well, with me now.  My husband and I have shared our bed with DJ since she came home from the hospital.  It wasn’t really our intention to do so.  In fact, if you had asked us if we’d ever have our 14 month old in bed with us, we both would have answered with a resounding (and somewhat disgusted) “NO WAY!”  But, somewhere along the way, it became a habit in our home.  I am certain it was first sparked by my “new mom” paranoia, but then I became “attached,” and just enjoyed having DJ close by.

Up until six days ago, I had felt shame, embarrassment, judgment, and insecurity about sharing this truth with others.  While I have always remained absolutely confident about this decision for our family, it’s been hard to ignore the criticism from others.  And then, last Tuesday night, I realized that our choices had in fact allowed me to fulfill a promise that I made to DJ while she was still in my belly.

I had promised her that she would always be safe with me.  I promised her that she’d never have to worry about my coming or going because I would ensure that she’d always know that I’d be back for her.  I promised her that whenever she was scared or anxious, she’d have a safe place in me.  When I made her these promises, I wasn’t quite sure how I’d fulfill them, except by just being there for her however I could be.

With DJ’s growing sense of independence, we decided that she might be ready for a “big girl bed.”  We got her a twin bed, equipped with the proper safety guardrails and decided to give it a try.  Back to the “modern parenting” concept – we were simply paying attention to DJ’s lead and hoping we were on the right track.  I had decided that I would sleep in the bed with her, in her room, until she was comfortable with her new quarters.  I had assumed it would take her at least a week to even sleep through the night.  I was wrong.

DJ slept through the night our very first night in her new bed.  What I realized as I was laying there wide awake, was that I had actually fulfilled my promise to her.  I had become her safe place, and while she was in a new environment, I was there and that was good enough for her to feel at ease.  In those midnight moments, I made peace with our controversial decisions.  Not only did I feel a sense of peace, but I felt an overwhelming sense of confidence in my parenting ability.

While other mothers may have made similar promises to their babies, and have also fulfilled those promises in different ways – this is how I followed through with DJ, and this has been the right way for us.  I think that part of being a good and successful parent is being able to discern your own convictions from the voices of those around you.  I certainly believe that listening to others with wisdom and experience is essential, but at the end of the day, we’re the only ones who can fulfill the promises that we make to our own children.