To Thine Own Self Be True

My sister is the kind of mom that has all of her kid's friends at her house. All hours of the day kids are being dropped off, picked-up, taken to the movies or swimming in their pool. As Vice President of the Social Committee at their school, it seems she knows every parent and every parent seems to call on her at one point or another. Whether it's the one who comes but never leaves, the one whose parent needs a quick favor or the regular kid who's always coming by, it seems she welcomes them with open arms.

Her duties with the school committee have her organizing Parents Days and ice skating nights; Career Days and end of year celebrations - all of which she handles with grace and gusto. This is a person who never baby sat, was pretty ambivalent about babies in general, but who has now morphed into Super Mom - the exact mom I always thought I would be. But now - not so much!

The thought of being responsible for someone else's kids other than my own (and by my own I also mean my niece and nephew) gives me the heebie jeebies. I think back to a comedian who said "Just because I have kids doesn't mean I like them - I just like my own!"

I am little overwhelmed when I think about even watching other peoples kids. When my nephew was a baby Dee would ask if I wanted to take him to the play ground to which I would more often than not reply "No thanks." Not because I didn't want to spend time with my nephew but because I didn't want to spend time with the other kids that were sure to be there! You don't know how they're raised - if they're nice kids or brats; if their parents raised them to be polite or let them run wild - too many unknown factors for me to deal with!

Granted, Park is only two, so we're not at the point of alot of playdates and she's in daycare where there are no PTAs and mother's groups, but still somehow I thought I'd be more excited about all of the Mommy-related activities waiting for me and I simply am not there yet. I can barely get out of bed to be aware of my own kid. Larry told me the other day that Park came into our room at 2:00 a.m. and was carrying on a full conversation with me - while I snored. He got out of bed, put her back in bed, and I never knew what happened.

I like that Park has friends but I think I'd go a little nuts if I was responsible for them. While Dee will throw a gaggle of kids in her car and take them to the movies or freely let her kids run up the street to a neighbor's I sometimes shudder at the thought of playdates or someone asking me to watch their kid. I am still figuring out how to keep my own child alive as she puts pennies in her mouth, jumps on and off the sofa, scales the walls and calls the extension cord a necklace; I can't worry about keeping someone else off of the ledge! And the PTA? The thought of taking 750 RSVPs for a strawberry festival makes me want to run down the street screaming!


Dee's kids are seven and 10. Maybe I'm still relatively new at the game and the above only speaks to my insecurities of messing up someone else's kid and my fear of them messing up my kid. My priority today is making sure my child is happy, alive and well before I focus on someone else's child.

I want to be that Super-mom one day. I want my house to be kid-central. I want Park see our house as the place she'd most rather be. So I'll take it slow - a play date here, an invite there; I even plan on bringing Park to a mom's group playdate in our community if I am ever home when they have them.

Maybe by the time she's in elementary school I'll see the beauty in the chaos and look forward to helping other mom's in their daily routine as they will surely help me. We'll see. But for now, don't ask me to babysit!

Out Mothered?

Last night I tried to put Parker to sleep. We were doing well when I gently slipped my hand off her back, rolled my body off the pillows on the floor where I was laying down, and like a ninja, tried to slide silently out of the room. And then she woke up - saw that I was attempting to leave - and went buck wild! My husband, hearing the ruckus, came upstairs, shoo-shoed me out of the way, grabbed Parker, started talking some gibberish about the moon and the stars and came downstairs five minutes later after putting her to sleep! Getting her up in the morning? I am barely conscious and rarely hear her calls. By the time I roll over, he has her out of bed, eating her cereal, waiting for Mommy to get her dressed. Dinner? - he cooks it, after he returns from work (where he also drops her off and picks her up from the daycare at his job). Using the potty? He can get her to go better than I can!

While trying not to get a complex, I've started thinking about why he seems to be so much better at these things than I am. When it comes to daily reading, social activities such as dance and gymnastics and general play time, I'm your go-to girl. When she gets home, all she wants is Mommy - sitting on my lap, wanting me to pick her up, crying when I take two steps without her, wanting me by her side every step of the way while smothering me with hugs and kisses. But sleepy tme, eating time, potty time - that's Larry's domain.

I think his patience and calm demeanor may be what allows her to easily follow his lead as I admittingly at times am always thinking about the next thing on my list. With Larry, maybe she feels she can just "be" and there is a value and balance in that. While one parent is the scheduler, the other is the free-timer. With one you have to be on point, on time and aware; with the other you can wait it out until you're ready to act. That must explain why Parker can sit in a room all day with Larry while he watches TV and just let him be, but when she sees me the books and the toys start coming out of the woodwork for heavy interaction time.

I'd like to think she appreciates what we both bring to the relationship and that it will serve her well in the future. I'd like to think Larry's not the better parent but just one who parents differently. I'd like to think I'm not making her neurotic about "Mommy time" and that she'll be a well-rounded adult. I'd like to think that I'm not out-mothered by my husband. But maybe I should just relax and think about the fact that I am extremely lucky!

Dance Like There's No Tomorrow

We took our daughter to the Guppy Gala at the zoo tonight. Although a friendly little girl, Park can sometimes become very shy and want to literally crawl up my body when she is fearful or nervous. So I was quite surprised when she jumped up to dance with one of the people on the performance stage. She left me and Larry, ran up there and simply moved. She danced with wild abandon moving her arms left and right, rolling her hands, shaking her shoulders and enjoying the music. She didn't look at us for permission or approval, she simply acted on what inspired her in that moment. She didn't care who was watching - all she focused on was the rhythm of the music and how it made her feel. It was a beautiful thing to watch my daughter being so free. I pray that she always finds that little piece of freedom and pulls it out whenever she needs it; that she has no inhibitions or doubts about anything that she wants to do, and that she will always remember to dance like she did tonight.

Hold On or Let it Go?

I have been thinking and thinking about having another baby. At this point I will be 47 by the time I deliver, but there is some part of me that still thinks I have it in me for one more go round. I don't know if I am being hopeful or delusional. They told me I had less than a 6% chance when I was 41 and I conceived at almost 44 without their help. This time they told me less than 1% - sometimes I feel like all I need to hear is "impossible" to make it my motivation.

Years before ever getting pregnant I'd go to the gym and people would ask why I was going so often (back when I went alot) and I'd say "One day I'm going to be pregnant and have a baby and will need to be in shape." They'd ask "Are you married yet? " - my response "Nope", "Are you pregnant yet?," same response - "Nope." But I knew in my soul that both would be true statements and persisted.

Now here I am with everything I ever wanted and knew I could have, and I'm asking myself if I am now being selfish. One doctor flat out told me I was lucky to have the healthy ONE at my age and I'd be crazy to tempt fate again, then proceeded to tell me about her nightmares raising her child and other nightmares of friends who adopted. Did I say she is a FORMER doctor?! She was off-putting yes, but it did make me think - am I not being grateful; am I taking what I have accomplished for granted, am I selfish? At times I feel like I am pushing God to do what I want and at other times I feel ashamed for not recognizing that with Him ALL things are possible.

I grew up with a sister who I am extremely close to and I always imagined having children who would have that same bond. I was never one of those "I need to get married so I can have children;" as a matter of fact, for me, children were not an option unless I was married. Yet once I got on board, I wanted the full works - at least two kids; maybe even three. Even knowing with each year my chances of conceiving on my own were decreasing, I never imagined that I could not have at least two.

Over the next few months I will have some big decisions to make. We're going to give it another shot; but in three months time, if nothing happens, I am going to let go of the option of conceiving and look at other alternatives.

Through the Eyes of a Child

We took our daughter to see the America I Am exhibit at the National Geographic Building today. The mood was somewhat somber as we entered the rooms with remnants of slavery. But as my daughter saw the chains reflected on the people's faces, she asked about the rainbows - seeing only the light that bounced off the reflection. And when she approached the vignette of a female and male house slave in their uniforms she said "Mommy, can I touch the princess and the pirate?" - and the crowd broke out of their mood and smiled. It's amazing how a child can take even the saddest piece of history and find beauty. Maybe that's why we should remember our past, hold it, acknowledge it, celebrate it. It made us who we are today, as a people and as a nation - and while some focused on the ugliness of it all, a little girl looked at those images and saw beauty.

Lady in Waiting

I was stuck in a McDonald's yesterday with Park, waiting out the tornado warning. All I could imagine was dying in a tornado with people knowing I fed my daughter McDonald's! What can I say, it's right around the corner from gymnastics and it's an easy, although hopefully not weekly, fix. I had no idea tornadoes were so rampant in this area. I was really scared, but I tried to remain calm. Park was as calm as ever, systematically working her way through her fries and Chicken Mcmuggets, while holding on to the Bat Mobile toy that came with her Happy Meal. I guess God works it out that way - when you're ready to riot, they are calm and when you're calm, they're ready to riot! So we just waited it out, me with one eye on my child and the other on that bathroom door in case we needed to make a break for it!

Still waiting on potty success. I dragged it with us to a friend's house for Easter dinner and it ended up becoming my Easter Bonnet. I figured I might as well get some use out of it. I have to go read some books on this. I work better with a step by step guide to do something and not theory. I am stunned that Park, who picks up everything so fast, is clearly reluctant when it comes to the potty. I have to bargain, beg and cajole her into staying on the potty. She has no inclination to tell me when she has to go and will gladly allow me to sit with her for ten minutes, get up, put her diaper back on and promptly go to the bathroom. I fear she'll be three years old before she gets this right and yet, I don't want to pressure her; so I wait, and wait and wait...

Training Mommy

Day One of really trying to potty train my daughter. She has peed on the carpet, the bathroom rug, the side of the sideboard in the dining room - and basically everywhere except the potty. Larry really wants a dog, but I told him I can't deal with a puppy until my daughter is house-broken! I really can't understand how people do it. Some say to put her on every hour or half-hour - tried that - Parker just howls; some say let her go commando and pee anywhere - Mommy just howls, others say, we'll know when the time is right - well she's almost two and a half - isn't it time yet? Sometimes she will flat out tell me she does not want to go ("I'm dry"), or when I ask her if she will tell me she has to go she flat out says "No." I think she's got this thing with the potty - they are at a stand-off and she's not budging.

Every woman I know was trained before 18 months! What's happening today or at least with me? Is it that we're all working too hard to dedicate the time or have the disposable diapers made it too easy to get comfortable with our kids carrying loads behind them? I tell you, I almost cried with joy when I put on those beautiful big blue and green spotted Target diapers a bed time - I knew I had at least until the morning before I was peed on again.