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

A new month, a new me……well, not exactly a new me, just a different me.  Though, trust me, if April Showers brought May Makeovers – I’d be one happy camper!

Since the last time I’ve written (which I understand was only last week), a lot of changes have taken place.  I’ve become a part-time-working stay-at-home-mom.  WOW – what a mouthful.  I’ve committed to a 15-hour a week part time job, working mostly from home.   While it’s only been a week, and the first few days were overwhelming, I think I am going to really love it.

For me, the hardest part has been (and still is), trying to modify the life I have been used to for the past 20 months.  All of a sudden, I find myself in a place of looking at a calendar, and actually being required to know the date!  I have had to figure out how to merge the schedule of a 20 month old with the schedule I am now keeping of commitments outside the home. This means working in swim lessons, with specific times that I can devote to sitting at my computer to act on emails. I am realizing that the key to making this all work is discipline, which is not one of my stronger qualities.  Burning the midnight oil is probably not sustainable – though, right now, it’s survival!

In addition to this 15-hour a week job, I continue to help my dad with his business – which is a local Commercial, Residential and New Construction cleaning business.  (Insert shameless plug here : So, if you are looking for someone to do your spring cleaning for you, call me!). If you add all of this up, I am now working about 172 hours a week.  And there I go (only slightly) exaggerating again.

I feel like this is a really good time in DJ’s life for me to begin taking on some new things.  She’s old enough now to not be so, so dependant on me – and can truly appreciate and enjoy time spent away from me.  (Ok, let’s face it – I’m the one who has finally grown out of separation anxiety!).  She’s going to be 20 months old in just 3 days……I can hardly believe it.

Which brings me to my next change……while I know you have all enjoyed reading about diarrhea explosions, cutting-teeth, growth spurts, crib woes, first words and first steps – I am excited to announce that I am finally graduating from “New Mommy” to “Preschool Mommy.”  We figured it was time for my stories to shift to things like pebbles up nostrils, markers on the couch and kissing garden snails.

DJ will begin her pre-pre-school in September, and I will become part-time-working stay-at-home co-op mom.  (Say that 10 times, fast).  Starting next week, you can continue following me on Tuesdays as “Preschool Mommy.”  It sounds so weird to even repeat that out loud as I see the words typed on my screen…. P R E S C H O O L.  My baby is growing up so fast.  It makes my eyes well up with tears as I think of how magical this first chapter has been, that I can hardly imagine moving into another chapter.  However, I know that no matter how tightly I cling to these past 20 months – there’s still a lifetime of learning and growing again…..

So, fasten your seatbelts ladies and gentlemen….I just know Preschool Mommy is in for a wild ride!

OK, I’m just going to say it.  Are you sitting down?

I was not ready for my kids to go back to school on Tuesday.

I really enjoyed winter break this year.  Usually I am counting the days, hours and possibly seconds until I can speed through the car line and send them on their merry way to learn times tables instead of bicker over who has more legos or smear marker all over my white marble counter tops.

But this year was different.  I don’t know if my kids have reached some magical age where I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief and having them home with me for an entire day is somehow less draining.  They play on their own for long stretches of time and sometimes they even get their own snacks.

We hosted both sides of the family on Christmas and had a few families over to celebrate New Year’s Day.  The kids helped set the table, played sous chef in the kitchen and OMG even cleaned their rooms.  They enjoyed having company and didn’t want the parties to end.

We slept in (if you consider 7am sleeping in) and had leisurely breakfasts.  Of course it was nice that my husband took the week between Christmas and New Year’s off so I was able to go for a run after breakfast and take my time showering and getting dressed.  We did puzzles, went bowling and to the movies, even skiing for a day.  And for the very first time ever we played Monopoly and no one threw a tantrum when they were sent straight to jail without passing go and collecting $2M.

Even though all the family togetherness and well behaved children was blissful and lovely it’s not what I enjoyed most about winter break.

What was really nice was the break from homework, lunchbox packing and time spent shuttling three kids all over the peninsula during the hours of 3pm – 5pm.  I didn’t have to rush my shower between kindergarten book borrowing and third grade art lessons.  There was no mad rush to get home after school, go to the bathroom, grab a snack, get changed and head out to soccer or ballet or Tae Kwon Do.   No dinners were burned because I was distracted giving someone a spelling pre-test.

But alas, all good things must come to and end.  On Tuesday we all woke up early.  My husband was already on his way to work by the time I stumbled downstairs to pour my cup of coffee.  I told the kids we wouldn’t be having pancakes, hot cocoa and bacon for breakfast and asked what they wanted in the lunchbox.  Then I came home to a very quiet house.  I’m already counting the days until Spring Break.

I can feel Fall in the air.  I didn’t realize how much I was CRAVING this feeling until this week.  I was looking over old journals and without fail there are multiple “I just love Fall and can’t wait to make some soups and stews” entries each year.  I think it is my favorite time of year.  I am not a hot weather girl.    Besides the soups and stews, there are a few things that mean autumn time in our family; Disneyland and baseball.

We make an annual pilgrimage to Disneyland every October.  It just so happens to coincide with my son’s birthday due to quiet times at jobs and our Utah cousins being out of school for a long weekend.  We let him think it is his birthday present.  We are awesome parents like that.   This year we had a bit of a different situation with him.   We have spent thousands of hours in therapy over the last four years with our Cubby to help him get his sensory issues under control. We have practiced with him identifying how his body is feeling and assigning words to those feelings (ie, I feel hurt, I feel scared).  We have drilled him in using his words instead of his fists to show us that he is frightened or worried. We have worked on attachment to show him that he can trust his parents and that we won’t allow anything to hurt him.    Up until the last year or so, it has been like trying to teach those thing to our kitchen table.  Nothing really seemed to be sinking in.   We just kept cutting checks and hoping that at some point we would see the fruits of our labors.

Within about 20 seconds of entering the park, we started seeing those fruits.   While my other kids were agog with all the princesses and giant pumpkins on Main Street USA, my son seemed to shrink and refused to look at anyone. He kept telling us that it was too loud, there were too many people and that Disneyland was “THE WORSE PLACE IN THE WORLD”.  He loved to shout that last part at anyone who would listen.  This child has been coming here every year since he was born, so it wasn’t a new experience for him, but because of his new awareness of his body it felt like a totally new experience.  By the time he made it to the back of the park to the It’s a Small World ride (which according to him had too many creepy animals and all those kids that wouldn’t stop singing) he was D. O. N. E. with Disneyland.    So, we were done with Disneyland.   We have lots of rules in our family, but one of those rules is that no one is forced to have fun at Disneyland (what? you don’t have that rule in your family?).  Thank goodness for iPhones.  We walked from ride to ride with the rest of the family and he waited with us in line, playing games to help him not focus on all the stuff that was bothering him, and then waited outside with me during the rides.  It many ways it was his dream come true; tons of screen time and as many railings as he could ever desire to climb on and swing from.    The other kids had a great time and did all the Disneyland stuff.  We might wait a few years before we go again; maybe we will bring Grandma and she can bring him home when he has had enough.   On the whole, I am VERY proud that he was able to handle himself and express what he needed.  He used his words, he shifted behavior to stay with us while we were doing something he didn’t like (staying in the park) and we realized that this kid finally realizes that he can feel things that he doesn’t like.  It wasn’t too long ago that he never registered pain, never felt dizzy, never felt sick.  He was that out of touch with his own body. This is very common with sensory kids.

Yesterday we also took the kids to the Giants game (FEAR THE BEARD!!!).  This game was much louder than the ones he has attended in the past.  It also started with fireworks and a fly-over by the Blue Angels that even made MY ears bleed a little.   In the old days he would have totally lost it and the day would have been unsalvageable. We would have had to come home and he would have been out of control the rest of the day.  This time, we just had a few tears and a few minutes sitting outside the stairs and he was back on track.  He still didn’t love the noise, but he paid more attention to the game so he could try and anticipate when the cheers were going to happen.    So again, huge progress.

I am glad we were still able to officially usher in the Fall.   We have lots of birthdays, trick or treating, turkey dinners and other fun stuff to go before we get into the full swing of the official “holiday” season.  It will be interesting to see what else has changed with how our little guy views these things.   If his reaction to the tooth fairy this morning is any indication (“you mean to tell me that she TOOK my tooth? If I find that tooth fairy I am going to throw her in the garbage….”) we might need to warn Santa.

I have spent the last hour catching up on family blogs and Facebook posts. All over the internet are pictures of kids heading off to the first day of school. I love to see the shiny smiles (because it is still new and exciting and everyone has carefully combed hair) and new backpacks (still clean and holding their shape because they haven’t been used as footballs or pillows or projectiles yet). Fall is in the air and the promise of routine and schedule surrounds parents with a familiar welcome.

We are putting off all that stuff because we are still in Hawaii. The kids are missing their first three days of school. My fifth grader is wearing her first day of school outfit in protest (long pants and a heavy shirt) and refusing to go to the beach (cry me a river). The kindergartener keeps hoping we will forget to send him when he gets home. He keeps giving us helpful suggestions like “Hey, I have an idea, maybe we should live in Hawaii?” and “I think kids don’t have to go to school here. Let’s stay”. Tempting.

I am typing this from a hotel room in London.  We toured Tower of London this morning, had a nice lunch and swam in the hotel pool in the afternoon.  Now the children are asleep and my husband and I are sipping wine while typing away on our respective laptops watching BBC news.  Sounds lovely no?

But let me tell you, getting here was no easy feat.  We’ve been planning for and anticipating this trip for months.  As soon as I learned that my husband’s cousin was getting married in London and we’d be attending I started to fret about the flight and all the effort involved in taking three kids on a trip to Europe.  We’ve taken several road trips with our kids, no problem.  We are experts at the three kids stuck in the car for several hours thing.

However, air travel with three kids… not our thing. When my twin girls were eleven months old we took them to Hawaii.  That trip ruined me.  The girls were just learning to walk and they had no interest in sitting still for one moment.  I’ll spare you the details, but the flight was hard… for us and the other passengers.  Neither one of them slept a wink and things got worse once we arrived in paradise.  They hated the beach and screamed if their little toes got anywhere near the sand.   Our normally champion sleepers were up all night long crying and naps were non-existent.  The plane ride home was made worse by painful diaper rashes and two overly exhausted parents.  That trip was my first taste of how different travel can be once you have children.

Since then I’ve avoided taking our kids anywhere that requires air travel.  I was scarred.  But there was no avoiding this one.  And at eight, eight and five and no diapers or naps to contend with, it was time.  We got the kids passports, prepared with plenty to do on the plane and we were off.

The kids were thrilled and we talked a lot about airplane etiquette and what to expect.  I really had no reason to worry.  They were great on the plane.  What I wasn’t prepared for was how annoyed I would be at all the other passengers.  Just as my son fell asleep, the couple behind us started a very loud conversation about how difficult it is to sleep on airplanes and the women sitting next to my daughter kept her overhead light on the entire ten hour flight.  Only one of my kids actually slept on the airplane and only for a little over an hour.

And no amount of preparation could have prepared me for our first day here.  We left SFO at 1pm California time and arrived at 7am London time.  We were assured we would be able to check into our hotel when we arrived.  But when we got here, we were told there was no way they could check us in until 3pm at the earliest.  That is when I freaked out.  This was not part of my plan.  We were going to sleep for a few hours, then get up and try to acclimate to London time.  The kids were fried and I was ready for a shower.  My husband suggested we tour around the city for the day and then check in.  I told him (in my not-so-nice voice) that there was no way our already tired kids could manage any kind of tourist activity.

Thankfully my husband has lots of family here and we were able to spend the day at his aunts house while we waited for our hotel room.  When we finally checked in we were all exhausted and frazzled.  We had basically been up for almost 24 hours.  Since then we’ve been battling jet lag.

For someone like me who lives and breathes by my kids routines and bedtimes, this has been rough.  It’s like we all take turns turning into incoherent zombies and completely crashing out.  We  passed my sleeping son back and forth as we walked up and down endless flights of stairs looking at all the king’s medieval armor.  As soon as we left and he woke up, my daughter took over. She practically melted on the subway because she was soooooo tired and soooooooooo hungry.  Then my other daughter slept right through dinner only to wake up just moments ago (midnight our time) starving and not at all ready to go back to sleep.  I am very ready to go to sleep.

And yet, not once have we said this trip was a bad idea.  My kids have studied the London underground map and could tell me how to get anywhere from Queensbury to Notting Hill.  They were mesmerized by the Queen’s jewels and think it’s hilarious that every time they order lemonade, they get 7-Up.  In a couple of days all the wedding activities will start and I know I’ll be even more reassured that this trip was good idea.

I have no doubt that we will all be back on our proper sleep schedules the day we are scheduled to return back to the US.  Then schools starts a few days later.  Do you think they allow naps for 3rd graders?

Oh my gosh, is this what it’s like to have a nine month old?  One week you’re battling an ear infection and teething, and the following week you’re watching her in a foot race against your Chihuahua around the ottoman?  The only thing constant seems to be my pleading with the Sandman to cut me some slack.  I am both worn out, and more in love with motherhood than ever.

DJ seems to be learning new tricks each day.  She’ll wake up in the morning clapping, and later that day will have mastered yet another new sound affect. DJ knows that daddy is the one who makes her laugh, and mommy is the one who gives her comfort – and deliberately reaches for one of us with her pudgy arms at the appropriate time given her mood.  She is learning how to play fun and interactive games with us, such as “cheer for food!”  This is a game that DJ made up in which we must all (including herself) raise our arms up toward the sky cheering and applauding each time she puts a piece of food in her mouth.  While it makes for a long and drawn out mealtime, it seems to help the zucchini go down!

I am continuously amazed by DJ’s rapid development.  I cannot wrap my head around the fact that she’s approaching her first birthday.  Where has the time gone?  These past nine months have been challenging, but far more rewarding than anything else.

Before DJ, I was a perfectionist.  My house was always tidy, I was always put together, and I rarely deviated from my plans.  I woke up each morning with a task list in mind, and I didn’t lay my head down until all of the boxes were checked off.  I was committed to excellence, and excellence meant that I was punctual, proactive and precise.

Nowadays, I have learned to shelf my Type-A personality.  I am a much better mom, wife, daughter and friend when I roll with the punches.  I am quickly learning that while I consistently strive to maintain a routine, each day is different.  I am learning that toys scattered across a Cheerio-littered carpet makes for a happy baby.  The satisfaction that I once gained from seeing vacuum lines on my suede couch, has been replaced with the satisfaction I feel when Febreeze gets the poop smell out of our diaper pail.  Life is good.

I am so grateful to have learned so many valuable lessons from such a tiny little person.  DJ has softened my rough edges, and has taught this stubborn old Italian girl that the only thing worth arguing over is how many strawberries it will take to completely paint oneself red (DJ’s other new favorite game).

I am about to pull my hair out.  My daughter’s sweet disposition has been overhauled by a bad case of the “Missed Naps.”  The spell is lingering from our family adventure on Saturday when DJ’s otherwise normal agenda was disrupted.

For those of you who’ve read my past blogs, you know that I have often claimed not to be a “schedule-mom.”  I have professed that I don’t allow myself to be ruled by a timetable each day, and that every day looks quite different in our household.  However, the truth of the matter is, I just might be more of a “schedule-mom” than I care to admit!

As DJ approaches 9 months, I am realizing how much she and I thrive in an established routine.  Her daily wakeup time has gotten consistent, and I have become keenly aware of her sleepy cues. With these two skills honed in, and without much thought at all, we have organically fallen into a pattern.

The whole reason that I never saw myself embracing a schedule was because I didn’t want our life to be lived in two to three hour increments.   I didn’t want to be controlled by the clock.  However, I am learning that when I don’t protect and preserve DJ’s natural cycles, I end up being controlled, instead, by a very unhappy baby.

Even though DJ’s needs have become clear, I am still forced to make decisions about occasionally foregoing naps in order to participate in life.  There are events that I want to attend, appointments that I must make, and the occasional lunch date that runs too long.  However, like the old adage about chocolate says “A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips” – if we splurge on a fun day, I end up paying the price for the next several days.

Before becoming a mom – the only thing I’d given this much thought to was indulging in a bowl of cheesy pasta followed by a slice of tiramisu! Similarly though, the consequences make me evaluate choices more carefully by constantly running them through my “will it be worth it?” filter.  With this “scale-tipping” approach, even when DJ is at her most difficult, I can say with conviction, “That sure was fun, though!”

“Hello.  My name is Gina and I am a schedule-mom.”