Stuck Under a Baby

Category: Uncategorized

  • From Pumps to Crocs: A Thank You Letter to My Feet

     

    Dear Feet,

    I know I haven’t taken good care of you recently, but I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for all that you have done for me. As a baby, you helped me take my first steps. As a toddler, we ran and jumped together and touched sand and ocean for the first time. As a child, you helped me leap, skip, climb, twirl, and dance – you even got to wear ballet and tap shoes. As a teenager, you put on toe shoes and never once complained. You danced me through proms and walked me through several graduation ceremonies. You persevered when I had to travel from class to class on different college campuses and when I started commuting to my first job. You didn’t give up on me when I switched from an office job to a teaching job where I stood on you all day long. My fondest memory, however, is when you walked me down the aisle on my wedding day.

    I know we used to have a good thing going. I’d dress you up in fun boots, different colored Converse high tops, Doc Martins, and pumps. I’d get you all pretty with smooth heels and shiny red nail polish and show you off to all my friends. Occasionally, you even wore some of my jewelry. And now, you are almost always either bare or in Crocs. You haven’t been gussied up in a long time. You have rough edges and cracked polish. You’d be embarrassed to be seen in public, yet you’re stronger than ever.

    I know that our relationship began to get strained when I became pregnant with my first child. I couldn’t see you anymore and had a hard time taking care of you myself. Still, you supported me through the pregnancy, even as my body got heavier and you got swollen. Once the baby came, I paid even less attention to you… not because I wanted to, but because I had a new little one who needed me more. However, you never gave up on me. You took countless steps as I rocked, paced, and walked my baby to sleep in my arms. You came with me as I took my son on his first adventures and you were there as he took his first steps, learned to run and jump, and touched sand and ocean for the first time.

    I know you thought that as my son got older, I’d have more time for you. I tried to squeeze in a pedicure a few times, but then I learned that I was expecting another child. You didn’t resent me and you showed me that by not swelling up this time around. We were very active during this pregnancy, since we had a toddler to chase after. You didn’t get to rest as much and were often very tired, yet you fought through the exhaustion and still took us on nature walks and ran around the playground. Now, you help me carry my daughter in a wrap as I push my son in the stroller for our daily walks. It is hard work and I know that by the end of the day, you’d love to be soaked and rubbed, but that doesn’t happen often. Sometimes, you’re even too tired to stand in the shower!

    I am sorry if you have felt neglected. I will try very hard to schedule some bonding time soon and get you cleaned up for the summer. You have worked countless hours to get me where I am today. I am so proud of where we’ve been and thoroughly excited for where we’re going. I could say something cliché here about my children following in my footsteps, but I won’t. I will, however, once again say thank you for supporting me, taking me off the beaten path, and carrying me through this crazy ride called life.

    Love,

    Me

  • Activity: Playing and Creating with Macaroni

     

    I recently had two posts published on QuirkyMomma.com about all of the various activities your child can do with pasta!

    Macaroni Art:  In this post is a recipe for dyeing pasta and some ideas on creating artwork with the colored noodles.  Also, consider making “glitter” out of pastina and stellini – the clean up is so much easier!

    More macaroni play ideas: Here you will find information on using your colored pasta as a sensory bin, for sorting activities, and creating jewelry!

    What other ways do your kids play with their pasta?

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    For more of my play at home activities, please check out the following:

    Activity: “Eggcellent Adventures”

    Activity: Tissue Paper Art

    Activity: Sink or Float – An Experiment with Seltzer Water

     

     

     

  • Activity: Sink or Float – An Experiment with Seltzer Water

    My latest contribution to the world of children’s play has been published on the Kids Activity Blog.  We experimented with seltzer water to see what items would float, sink, or “dance.”  We used sprinkles (aka jimmies), coins, and popcorn kernels.

    This is an easy and fun science experiment you can do in your own kitchen.  Check it out and let me know what items you try!

    Sink or Float: An Experiment with Seltzer Water

     

    For more of our play and learn at home activities, check out:

    Activity: “Eggcellent” Adventures

    Activity: Tissue Paper Art

     

  • Please Wake Up So I Can Go Go!!

    This happened a while back, but I was reminded of it recently and thought I’d share:

    I live in a small, pedestrian town.  Everybody walks everywhere – to restaurants, to the park, to the supermarket, and to the library.  I meet someone I know every time I’m out.  If I am driving through town on the way home from somewhere, I almost always see friends pushing strollers or wearing their babies for an afternoon stroll.  My neighbors are usually out gardening or walking their dog.  So, why was it that on this day, I was stuck in the car with two sleeping kids, my garage was unusable due to boxes in the way, I really, really, really had to go to the bathroom, and there was not a friend or neighbor in sight?

    I drove by the restaurants.  I drove through the park.  I drove past the supermarket.  I drove by the library.  I circled my block several times figuring that at some point, one of the neighbor’s dogs was also going to have to pee.  I contemplated driving twenty minutes away to my husband’s office and asking him to come outside and rescue me.  I couldn’t, however, imagine not finding anyone in town that I knew.  Where was everyone?  Why was I suddenly in a ghost town?  It was a beautiful day – why wasn’t anyone outside?

    I’ve done some crazy things as a mom.  I once brought my son home from a nursing support group in “drag” when he pooped through his clothes and his blanket and I had to borrow clothes from my friend’s daughter.  I’ve asked a pizza parlor to deliver pizza to my car when both kids were sleeping and I couldn’t stand to eat another fast food hamburger.  But what was I to do in this situation?  I couldn’t leave my car and my children unattended, no matter how desperate I got.  If I had already purchased my son’s travel potty (which wasn’t gotten until this weekend), rest assured it would have been utilized… somehow.  Even my son’s diapers and my empty disposable coffee cup were starting to look good!

    It’s times like these (and only these) that I wish I was a boy and could, as my husband has put it, use nature as my urinal!  Ultimately, I just sat tight (pun intended) and waited until the kids woke up.  But seriously, where was everybody?  What’s a girl got to do to pee in this town?

    Is there an app for that?

  • My Rainbow Connection – My Toddler, My Baby, and Me

    Last night was difficult.  My husband has had to work late all week, and tonight was no exception.  After dinner, I got my baby girl to sleep pretty easily.  My son was a bit riled up from a spontaneous visit by his grandparents, but I finally got him to settle down soon after they left.  Just as I was about to put him to bed, my daughter woke up.  I tried to settle her, but she wouldn’t go back to sleep.  Meanwhile, my son sat on (yes, on) my feet quietly playing Angry Birds on my phone.  I wasn’t thrilled with this activity, but he didn’t want to be alone and I didn’t have many other options for keeping him quiet and entertained.  My daughter kept dozing back off, but every time we tried to leave, she’d wake up again.  My son was starting to lose patience and started climbing on me and making silly noises, thus prolonging the whole process.

    I eventually gave up on getting my daughter back to sleep, knowing that she is the easier one to put back down.  I sat her in her bouncy seat and decided to concentrate on getting my son to bed.  I put his pajamas on him, nursed him, gave him his vitamins, and brushed his teeth.  I shut off the light and the three of us climbed into bed.  By the glow of a flashlight, he “read” me The Napping House and then it was my turn to read it to both of my children.  I kissed them each goodnight.  I put my daughter in the co-sleeper next to my bed and had my son lie down in his spot (in the center of our bed).  He wanted me to snuggle with him, but I needed to nurse my daughter back to sleep.  I explained this and offered him my foot.  It sounds funny, I know, but he needed to feel connected any way he could.  He cuddled with my foot as if it were a teddy bear.  After a bit of fussing, my daughter finally fell back asleep.  I then scooted my son over (as he was now lying on top of my legs) and snuggled up close to him.  He fell asleep in my arms to a lullaby rendition of The Rainbow Connection.

    From chaos came peace.  I got a little teary eyed as I lay there.  Earlier, I was thinking “How in the world am I going to do this?”  But there I was.  I had done it.  I got them both to sleep at the same time.  By myself.  And it wasn’t easy.  But, I did it.  I was a mother to my children.  There was the something that I was supposed to be.  Somehow I found it, my Rainbow Connection – my toddler, my baby, and me.  La da da dee da da doo, la da da da da dee da doo.

    The Rainbow Connection: http://youtu.be/jSFLZ-MzIhM

     

  • Cleaning for the Cleaning Lady

    You know you’ve done it too.  The night before the lady comes to clean your house, you’re running around scrambling to clean up.  The dirty dishes get put away and the crumbs are wiped off of the countertop.  The laundry gets scooped up and thrown into the same basket they came out of when you made the attempt to sort it until your toddler decided to jump on everything you just finished folding.  The piles of mail, magazines, and unpaid bills get shoved in a closet just so that your house doesn’t look that cluttered.

    Honestly, we don’t have extra cash lying around to pay someone else to clean our house.  But with a toddler and a baby, we don’t have the time either.  The best I can do is get the laundry into the hamper and reload the dishwasher (sometimes).  Since I am usually wearing a baby, cleaning the shower or toilet is NOT something that I can (or want) to do.  Vacuuming with two light sleepers doesn’t seem like a good idea (and I hate to vacuum, but that’s another story).  And let’s be real… by the time both kids are put to bed, and then put BACK to bed three or four times each, all I want to do is sit on the couch, watch TV, and drool.

    The evening prior to my house getting cleaned is so stressful.  It’s worth it, though, to be able to come in to a home that is free of clutter, smells fresh, and isn’t sticky… unfortunately, that only lasts about five minutes.  Before you know it, the Legos are all over the floor, one or both kids has a poopy diaper, and even without a waffle in sight, everything seems to be covered in maple syrup.  Still, it’s nice to know that for a fleeting moment – the moment from when the cleaning lady leaves until we take our first step back through the door – the house is acceptable enough to actually have guests over.  By dinner time, however, all signs that the cleaning lady was there that morning have faded.  It’ll be at least another three weeks until I can, ever so briefly, bask in the glow of the freshly mopped floors.  Now, where did I put those bills?

  • My Body, Myself

    My body made a baby, two actually.  I still marvel at that.  Considering that I cannot assemble a piece of IKEA furniture without assistance, I can’t quite figure out how I did it.  My body just knew.  It knew how to differentiate a brain cell from a bone cell.  It knew when it was time to make a liver and that there were supposed to be two lungs.  It made eyes see and a heart beat.  It made boy parts once and girl parts once.  It put toes on feet and fingers on hands.  It created life.

    And now, my body is different.  I’m much lumpier than I ever was.  I have stretch marks, cellulite, flab, and two large scars.  My hair is shedding like crazy.  I sweat profusely in places I didn’t know could sweat.  I don’t get to shower that often, so I often smell like breast milk and baby spit up.  My boobs are enormous (more so than usual).  I don’t often wear makeup anymore and black circles are permanently under my eyes.  My skin is dry and I am often dehydrated.  My clothes don’t fit right – I can’t fit into my pre-baby clothes, and my maternity clothes are too big.  I may never fit into my skinny jeans again.

    My body may be different, but my husband still thinks I’m pretty.  He watched my figure change day by day when I was carrying his children.  He knows what my body is capable of, and despite the changes (or perhaps because of them), he still wants to be near me.

    My body may be different, but my children still snuggle up as close to me as possible.  They don’t mind the stink.  They were safe, secure, and loved inside my belly.  Now, they are safe, secure, and loved in my arms.

    My body made a baby, two actually.  I still marvel at that.

  • Sleep deprivation much?

    It’s midnight.  I just got my daughter back to sleep, came back downstairs to enjoy some “me time,” put the breast pump back into position, wiggled my computer mouse and wondered why the pump didn’t start, then pressed play on the cable remote (tv is off, mind you) and wondered why the pump didn’t start.  Perhaps it’s time to call it a night?

  • Children Will Listen (Sometimes Too Well)

    As much as we think our children aren’t paying attention or blatantly disregard what we say, our words still affect them tremendously, both positively and negatively.   When our words have a negative impact on our kids (whether or not we intended them to), the challenging part becomes undoing the damage we have done.  In my case, I’m not talking about anything all that serious; I’m talking about some simple things we may say to keep our children safe and happy.  For example, we tell our kids not to touch electrical outlets because they are dangerous.  Yes, we want them to steer clear of these, but our intention is not to instill a lifelong fear of all things electrical.

    I, it would seem, have accidentally created anxieties in my son that do not need to exist.  I can certainly understand the typical toddler fears of the dark, monsters, being alone, etc.  However, my son will no longer play with a battery-operated toy for fear that it will run out of batteries.  There will be plenty of other things he’ll have to talk to his therapist about one day – this one doesn’t seem necessary.

    So, here’s what happened.  We have a train table and a few trains up in my son’s room.  One day, hubby and I surprised him with a battery-operated Thomas train.  He was thrilled.  He would turn Thomas on, play with him for a while, and then move on to something else.  Thomas was left to go around and around and around the track.  I simply reminded him to turn Thomas off so that he wouldn’t run out of batteries and he would be ready to go next time.  The following day, the same thing happened, but this time, Thomas was placed on the floor and went from my son’s room, down the hall, and into my bedroom.  My son watched in delight, and then again, moved on to the next toy.  Thomas put up a good fight pushing against the wall, but was unable to continue his journey.  Once again, I reminded my son that if he was  done playing with Thomas, he should turn it off and return it to the train table so that it won’t get lost or, you guessed it, run out of batteries.

    A few weeks later, my son was given a gift of a battery-operated James train – something that he really, I mean really wanted.  James has been carried from room to room, has traveled with us on car rides to Grandma’s house, and has been pushed around the track.  Battery-operated James has never been turned on.  I have tried to make it exciting, suggesting we have races between James and Thomas around the track, but every time my finger goes near the power button, my son freaks out!  He gets so nervous that if we turn James on he will run out of batteries that he won’t turn James on at all!  I have tried to explain to him that it isn’t a big deal if a toy runs out of batteries, as we have several extras in our closet, and that if we DO run out, we can always go to the store for more.  I have tried to explain that we only have to turn our toys off when we are done playing with them.  But, alas, James remains a manually operated toy.

    I have since noticed that my son also gets nervous about food melting, a result of a previous ice cream incident.  Additionally, he is concerned about getting messy, a result of a non-fingerpainting project that turned into a fingerpainting project and required a much bigger cleanup than anticipated.  I have tried to reassure him that not every food is going to melt and that it’s ok to get messy (I even encourage it).  Unfortunately though, it seems the damage has already been done.  The anxieties have already been created.  Mommy has already messed up and broken the baby.

    I am not sure how to go about undoing the damage I have (without realizing it at the time) done.  Until I figure it out, these words from Sondheim’s Into the Woods will continue to haunt me:

    Careful the things you say
    Children will listen
    Careful the things you do
    Children will see and learn
    Children may not obey, but children will listen
    Children will look to you for which way to turn
    To learn what to be
    Careful before you say “Listen to me”
    Children will listen

    My son listened… a little too well.

  • Stay Awake! Go to Sleep!

    “Stay awake” is a phrase rarely uttered in my house.  Nine times out of ten, it’s “Go the F**k to Sleep!”  But then there are times when it’s impossible to keep the kids awake and it is terribly inconvenient for them to fall asleep on me.

    I drive around for an hour trying to get my son to nap in the car.  I finally give up because I’m getting to the point where I can no longer keep my eyes open.  Of course, he falls asleep a block away from the house.  My pleas for him to stay awake can’t be heard over his tiny snores.  I open the windows.  I turn up the radio and start singing Laurie Berkner at the top of my lungs.  I reach back and tickle his legs when stopped at a light.  Nothing.

    I rock, bounce, shush, and sway my baby daughter in my Ergo for 40 minutes while her brother is in his gymnastics class, but her big eyes are wide open and taking it all in.  Five minutes before class is over, she suddenly nestles her head against my chest and starts to doze.  Knowing full well that as soon as I attempt to extract her from the wrap and place her in the car seat she is going to scream bloody murder (our car seat is made out of hot lava), I do my darndest to keep her up.  I play with her, I poke at her, I even let her brother slobber on her, but, of course, she’s out cold.  And, as predicted, as soon as she touches the car seat, she is wide awake.  Apparently, her five minute snooze was enough to re-energize her for another hour and a half.

    Work with me, children!