Blah blah blah, complaints, etc. Posts

Postcards from Florida

Got back a couple of days ago from Miami. Cory has a conference down there every year at this time and I’ve been going with him and the kid(s) since 2008. The weather was amazing and I got to do lots of outdoor activities with the kids – zoo, beach, pool, museums… you name it. My in-laws also came down during the week, which was great. Since this has been our yearly getaway without having any other real vacation over the past few years, my expectations are always higher than they should be. Like for some reason I think the kids will sleep late, sit on a lounge chair while I tan, behave beautifully at restaurants when it’s way past their bedtime and sit quietly in the car awaiting our destination. Obviously these expectations were not met. Anyhow, it was great to feel the sun on our skin, to run around and get sweaty and feel the sand under our feet. At the end of the day we were truly exhausted and glad to hit the cool, freshly laundered sheets. It was great to wear summer clothing, frequent frozen yogurt shops up and down US1, apply tropical-smelling sunblock and drive our rented SUV with the windows down.

Since it’s hard for me to be eternally joyful and positive, I just had a few complaints, which I saved on the Notepad section of my iPhone as postcards from Florida. No biggie. Just in case you missed my whining, these are the 4 postcards I wanted to share with you, my lovely readers:

1. To the lovely, hospitable host company – do you think the conference could be moved from Valentine’s Week to Presidents’ Week aka February break? I mean, I pull my kid out of school when he’s usually there all day long for a week of fun in the sun with Mommy and then you expect me to entertain him for ANOTHER whole week on top of that? I know I signed up for this parenting thing, but school is what some of us look to when our entertainment value expires. Looking towards the future, if you could coordinate your conference to coincide with this school break, I’d be eternally grateful.

2. To Mother Nature, the equator and global warming – the 82 degree sunny weather was amazing but how come Floridians (and some other lucky people across the globe) get it and I don’t? I know it can’t be helped, but I feel like these people are generally happier, healthier and more fit because they are forced to show more skin all year long. I actually shouldn’t piss you off – it has been the mildest winter I can remember up North so thanks for that. But is there some kind of metric for warmer weather climate people being happier? For our February break, I get to choose between two open play places, bowling or going to someone’s house and they get to choose between the beach, the pool, waterskiing, parasailing, being insanely happy, being amazingly happy, being deliriously happy. Ugh.

3. To the super choppy, turbulent air on the descent back to NY – if you could have waited just 10 seconds, Ryan would have made it to the bathroom in time. Because you decided to shake our plane so thoroughly as he was halfway down the aisle with Cory, the ‘male half’ of my family had to sit alone in the back of the plane for the final 30 minutes of our flight while towards the middle, my daughter threw everything on the floor in protest of being harnessed for so long, cried repeatedly to get UP UP UP, begged me to change the movie, change it back, give her food and whatever else had me praying back a panic attack (I am not a good flier). I was later told Ryan was forced to pee in his pants because the “fasten seatbelt light” was on. Poor, wet kid. He wanted to be held when we got off the plane and none of us wanted to touch the soggy dude.

4. To today’s children (or just my own) – when I was little, we used to DRIVE to Florida from Philly and all I got for entertainment were those signs that told me how many miles until South of the Border. Yeah, I’m sure I asked “how much longer” amid whines of ”I’m bored” but I survived the long trip with music, activity books, I Spy, The License Plate Game and – gasp! – talking to my parents. So when your freaking iPod Touch runs out of batteries and you shriek as though someone is holding you by your feet off a cliff, just know that it’s a 20 minute ride to the flipping ZOO and YOU’LL LIVE!!

Those few things aside, I am grateful that I had the chance to enjoy the weather that you lucky Floridian %^&*(*$%& get to enjoy daily and it’s good to be back, if only because four of us in one hotel room is not sustainable for more than 8 days. Plus, only 6 more days until Ryan goes back to school. Not that I’m counting.

Posted by Dani in Blah blah blah, complaints, etc., Holiday stuff and tagged with February break, plane travel with kids, trip to Florida

Driven to Drink

I wish it wasn’t dangerous to drink and drive because the car is where I could use it most!

Posted by Dani in Blah blah blah, complaints, etc. and tagged with never drink and drive

Mommy Wars

Every night I get The Stir Daily Ten from CafeMom, a rundown of parenting news and opinions from featured columnists. I just read this article about Mainstream Parenting Ideas and it’s not the article that pissed me off (even though it is complete junk and has few valid points “backed up” by junk science) it was the inevitable comments that followed. Even if you’re not a parent, the comments will most likely piss you off. In fact, I’m so pissed off about how parents (note: Moms) treat each other that I’m going to just go off on a complete rambling, nonsensical jumble of a tangent.

Yes, yes, yes - I’ve given advice to people before when they asked about parenting techniques. I’ve also pushed one method over another when talking to friends about discipline and I did write a post with my beliefs about spanking so maybe I’m a total hypocrite but why do parents feel the need to constantly castigate each other and get on a soapbox when it comes to co-sleeping, breastfeeding and every aspect of raising children? Why can’t people mind their own business?

CIO (cry-it-out, or the Ferber Method) is a hot-button issue. I didn’t want to use it because I didn’t really feel like hearing Alexa cry for hours, but once I read about it, I realized it was not the cruel and unusual punishment that you always hear about and wanted to give it a try. It worked for us. It is not leaving your child to scream until they pass out. It doesn’t mean I love her less than you love your child who you would NEVER let cry even for a second. It is a method and it works for some. If you think it’s cruel, that’s up to you. But why do you have to try and make other people feel like the devil about it? One commenter wrote to just “Google CIO and brain damage”. How about also Googling “effects of sleep deprivation” on either parents, babies or both.

I chose not to co-sleep (yes, on purpose!) but I have friends who do and love it. I know people who say they can’t stand being poked and prodded while trying to sleep and would never do it again and others who say it is the most special and wonderful thing you can do with your child and would never consider anything else.

Some people can’t breastfeed. They can’t. Really. Even if they sat for 24 hours with a medical-grade pump and YOU cheering them on. (Well not you, but I’m using “you” to mean the fanatical Mamas who have something to say about everything breastfeeding). Or those who adopted and couldn’t induce lactation. Or those who have mastitis or an illness or – gasp! – just don’t want to. Oh my goodness, they are SATAN! These crazy people don’t choose to use a milk bank or do everything humanly possible to get human milk into their baby and opt to use … cover your ears … formula! There are people out there willing to knock down doors to make sure everyone knows that formula is the devil in a can and that it will poison your child and make them a moron. To these people I say what did someone do to you as a child to make you feel the need to be so mean and insensitive to others? Can you simply say “we all know breast is best but if you can’t or choose not to do it, I don’t wish for you to burn in a fiery hell?” Or keep it to yourself. What on earth made you feel so very deeply about this subject that you feel the need to chop people’s heads off if they do things differently? If you’re able to breastfeed and choose to do so, shouldn’t you just be happy for yourself and your baby? Are you trying to win some kind of breastfeeding election or ensure that your tombstone reads “Died En Route to Perfection”?

I went on medication for PPD after the birth of my first child. I stayed on that medication when pregnant with my second child because the benefits to both of us outweighed the risks. Is it ideal to be on meds while pregnant? Of course not. Do you know what I went through? No, because you’re not me. Would I wish it on you or anyone else? No. So why do some people feel the need to judge something they have no idea about? (Side ramble – To me, it’s like being homophobic for no other reason than thinking homosexuals are ”deviants” because they may be different than you – then finding out your son is gay and expresses his deep desire to live his life openly and without fear… so you open your mind because you love your son and since you know he’s not a “deviant” maybe you were wrong.) Sooooooo… unless you have lived with PPD or any other mental illness, go fly a kite before telling me that I’m selfish for “putting my child at risk”. And maybe read some actual medical research, too.

There is no one-size-fits-all. Every child is different. I can already tell you that many of the things I swore by with Ryan I will not find effective with Alexa. Generalizations are not helpful. They only make confused parents feel more lost. We already know that new parents scour books, websites and other sources of information for support and what they’re finding (many times from other Mothers) sends them into an even deeper tailspin -

“CIO is a form of child abuse that will leave your child with pervasive anxiety.”

“If you have PPD, your child won’t be able to bond with you.”

“I would NEVER let my child cry – for even a minute! Letting children cry is cruel.”

“Breastfed babies are smarter than their formula-fed counterparts.”

“My child is ahead of all the milestones because I’m home with him.”

“Co-sleeping is gross and dangerous - how do you ever have sex? Aren’t you afraid of rolling over and killing your baby?”

“It is lazy parenting to formula-feed – why give a baby milk from a cow when you are perfectly capable of making your own?”

“Attachment parenting is the only way to raise a secure child who feels loved.”

UGH. It’s enough to give you a migraine.

How about parenting with love, logic and instinct?

End the Mommy Wars. It’s soooooooo tiring. I think we’re all looking for validation and put others down because of our personal insecurities. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing that makes people feel as vulnerable as being in charge of a tiny human life. I wish we didn’t have all of this literature and just used good old instinct.

Working full-time, staying at home, co-sleeping, CIO, babywearing, formula feeding, homeschooling, time-outs, spanking, 100% organic - we’re all just trying to do our best. Sure, we all have our opinions and we may get into a lively debate from time to time with friends or family members about how we choose to raise our children. It just seems like some people make it their full time job to be on a parenting rampage across the World Wide Web.

And I actually didn’t hate all of the comments - many echoed what I’ve been trying to say, albeit with more clarity. This one was my personal favorite:

From gingerpeachee on Oct 13, 2011 at 7:50 PM

Over-opinionated ridiculous human beings. Seriously. The CIO moms are accusing the AP moms of creating clingy children and the AP mom’s are calling the CIO moms child abusers. Lovely. Parents with small children forget that what you do in the first 3 years of life is not the end all be all of your children. WHO CARES if you made homemade baby food in 10 years? WHO CARES if you had your child on a strict schedule at 2 days old?!?! You think this is going to be some sort of life-altering decision? It’s not.

Maybe kids are growing up and bullying other kids because that is what their parents do to other parents right from the get go. Ever think of that? Open your minds. Forgive the people around you for not being carbon copies of yourself (the fact is YOU are not that perfect).

Amen, gingerpeachee – whoever you are. Amen.

Posted by Dani in Blah blah blah, complaints, etc., Childhood Development, Parenting, Women and tagged with attachment parenting, breast vs bottle, Christie Haskell, CIO, co-sleeping, Mainstream Parenting Ideas, Mommy Wars, The Stir

A Shitty Situation

Okay, right off the bat I just want you to know two things:

1. The title may have tipped you off, but I’m going to write the word SHIT (and appropriate synonyms peppered throughout for humor) in this post. Sorry.

2. Stop now if you can’t stomach reading about shit. Meaning, poop. Oh, including looking at pictures of it.

Since you’re still here, I can tell you’re really excited to delve into this one. It’s not even about my family or anything that I normally write about. But I really want to share this with you, mostly because misery loves company. And the other night was full of misery. And you, my dear readers, are the best company.

Wednesday night I was folding laundry and I came upon a little denim jacket of Lexi’s that was a size 12M from last year. No idea how it got in there, but I went to drop it on the landing to the basement because that’s where I put stuff “to be brought down later.” What greeted me as I opened the basement door was a horrid, pungent smell. Pissed beyond belief, I silently cursed the waterproofers who put in our French drain not 6 months ago for doing a crappy job after 3 basement floods. Our basement survived Hurricane Irene and several huge storms since then. Why now?

As I walked to the bottom of the steps, I noticed that the walls where the flooding had once occurred were bone dry. I started walking through the dampness, looking up at the ceiling, trying to find some kind of new crack. Nothing.

Our basement on move-in day - Feb. 2010

I walked towards the bathroom and the closer I got, the more I heard a squish, squash from beneath my shoes. Oh no. The entrance to the bathroom was soaked and water was pouring out of it. I tried to open the door, but I couldn’t. Whatever was behind it was surely stronger than me. I called my Dad for backup. After a few attempts, he was able to slowly budge the door.

What was behind it?

SHIT.

A foot deep. Poop. Toilet paper. Swimming in a pool of urine and water on the floor. Sludged up behind the door. Overflowing out of the toilet. It was as if every diaper the kids had ever filled had overflowed into this room. And it smelled – badly.

A cocktail of complete crap

I looked around the rest of the basement. The floor was slowly dampening beneath my feet. The endless barrage of kids’ toys - ruined. Bathed in sewage.

This was our playroom. Our Wonderland of fun in the Fall and Wintertime. Looking at the toys, I realized nothing was fit to be played with and especially not appropriate to be chewed on anymore.

: Basement in better days.

We were up shit’s creek without a paddle. Well, at least I was. Cory was in Boston on a business trip. Lexi didn’t seem fazed, either. She was up babbling to herself starting around midnight, playing DJ with her soother. By 2am, I had left emergency messages for everyone who would be involved in this mess and I was pooped from thinking about it all.

As my head hit the pillow, I realized Lexi was still awake. She remained in party-mode until 4am. Ryan woke up at 6. I think I got a good 1.5 hours of shut-eye.

Thursday morning was filled with phone calls to our plumber, our homeowners insurance carrier, an insurance adjuster and a clean-up crew. Wrangled everyone fairly quickly and by Thursday night, there was no longer any carpeting in the basement, the bathroom was disinfected and we were left wondering how much money we would get from insurance to start over again. When Cory arrived home that night, I passed out from 6pm-midnight and then again from 3-7am.

Get a load of this – turns out my parents had been hearing some kind of gurgling/jackhammer sound every time they flushed their toilet for a few days but didn’t really think it was anything major. When the plumber arrived, he found a completely clogged pipe on our main line. Apparently, our basement had been collecting sewage for days. Awesome.

On Friday, we explained to Ryan that some of his toys would have to be thrown out, but that we could replace most of them. He said he was sad, but an hour later he was thumbing through every toy catalog in sight, choosing new toys that he simply “had to have”.

The crappiest part of it all? An appraiser was scheduled to arrive on Saturday to finalize a package for us to refinance our mortgage. Hard to say you have a beautiful, finished basement when two feet of drywall has been removed and the floor is bare concrete. So tonight we found out that we have to put it off until everything is redone.

So here we are, sitting in our Money Pit, annoyed but thankful that it wasn’t something worse. After all, we’ll be getting new carpeting that has never lived through multiple floods and probably some shiny new toys and shelves.

Just trying to make the best of a shitty situation.

Posted by Dani in Blah blah blah, complaints, etc. and tagged with crap, my basement is gone, poop, sewage, shit

Errands in the Rain – A Poem

I took the kids on some errands today in the pouring rain,

The girl child screamed the whole time, the boy child was a massive pain.

Michael’s, post office, Hallmark, drugstore, haircut, mall and bank,

Places that leave you sweating and your patience an empty tank.

Miss Houdini in the stroller, Hyper Harry bouncing on the side,

If this was my first time doing this, no doubt I would have cried.

“I’m hungry!” every five seconds, “Can I have this?” every ten,

Thank goodness school starts tomorrow, ’cause I ain’t doing this again.

I want a full-time nanny so I can shop alone,

But since that’s just not happening, I’ll sit here and b-tch and moan.

Why do you scream for hours when you’re seated comfortably and eating a snack?

And why do you run like wildfire through stores like you’re under some kind of attack?

Those few minutes when you held hands and laughed almost made me smile,

Then I remembered you were the people who knocked 50 pens over into the aisle.

I know it’s all my fault for bringing you here today,

I have no idea why I thought that doing errands with you was okay.

Is it so hard to ask that you silently walk beside me while I’m in the mall?

Or come out from hiding in the clothing racks the first time that I call?

But I will say that there was an upside to you testing my patience like this,

‘Cause you’re cute and all was forgotten when you gave me that goodnight kiss.

Posted by Dani in Blah blah blah, complaints, etc. and tagged with errands with kids, I'm hungry, no patience, pouring rain, running through the mall, screaming, shoot me now, whining

Pet Peeve

I know I’m going to get blasted for this and I sound sooooo very ungrateful and rude, but here goes…

I can’t stand when people don’t ask for gift receipts when purchasing gifts.

Note to friends and family – this is a general sentiment and has nothing to do with the beautiful gifts we received for Alexa’s Birthday. Well, maybe a couple of them. But it wasn’t YOU.

I’m sure I’ve been guilty of this in the past (actually, I just gave my friend L a gift for her daughter and forgot to tape the receipt inside, but I have it and asked her if she wanted it) but what makes a person think that there’s no way in hell that someone wouldn’t like their gift? Of course everyone thinks they have fabulous taste, but I can’t help it if I’m not a fan of a velvet turtleneck in a 12 month size when it’s summertime. Just give me the chance to make it right and exchange it!

Some gifts don’t come with any proof of the store they came from so there’s no way to return it. I’d like to be able to exchange your gift instead of donating it in a drop box after you spent considerable time and money picking it out. Store policies today are so strict that I have to go into Toys ‘R Us with a friend’s driver’s license once I’ve hit $75 in returns in one calendar year.

There’s also the possibility that the gift recipient already has the gift and would like to exchange it. Without a receipt, I’m stuck with three different Memory board games and four of the same book. And I’m not a re-gifter, even though people tell me I’m crazy for not doing it.

Speaking of re-gifting, I remember in 2009 I received a gift that had a receipt attached from 2006. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? I didn’t even have kids then! Furthermore, if YOU didn’t like it, why did you think I would? That’s what gets me. I guess if you gave away an extra Memory game because you have four of them it’s not as bad as giving away some fugly outfit that you hate as well.

I know some people take pictures of their kids in horrendous outfits that they received so that the gift giver can ooh and aah over it and feel good. Then they hide it in a drawer, never again to see the light of day. I’m just not that nice. Or wasteful. Sure, if great grandma knit a sweater, of COURSE you’re gonna have the kid wear it when she comes over, but stuffing yellow polka-dot overalls with green smiley faces in a drawer robs another worthy recipient of it’s “fabulousness”.

Now that I’ve got that off of my chest, I can continue writing thank you notes while you curse me under your breath. Remember, it wasn’t YOUR gift. YOU have great taste and know exactly what I like. It was someone else.

Go ahead, blast me. I feel better now.

Posted by Dani in Birthdays, Blah blah blah, complaints, etc., Holiday stuff and tagged with gift receipts, pet peeve, regifting

Seeking life coach, free nanny, identical twin…

When Ryan was 9 months old, my therapist suggested that I find someone to watch him during our weekly sessions. Ryan had started walking and was generally not thrilled to be confined to a small room once a week while I talked to another adult for 45 minutes. Between opening drawers, trying to eat potting soil and climbing on the furniture, my son was becoming, well, a distraction.

But find someone to watch my baby? My parents lived in Philadelphia, my in-laws worked full time. I couldn’t imagine a complete stranger watching Ryan. But the way my therapist gently suggested it made sense and I wanted to pursue it. I was healed from Postpartum Depression but I had not yet found time in my day to focus solely on myself. And that was important for my ongoing mental health.

At first, I found a great option. My friend and neighbor G worked full-time and had a nanny for her daughter who was only a month older than Ryan. I knew her, liked her and she was willing to take Ry for the hour. It was great.

So great, in fact, that I wanted even more time for myself. I got high off of the feeling of that one hour of freedom. I was a member of a listserv consisting of parents in my Queens neighborhood and I asked around for a part-time nanny. Mondays, 9-6. This way, I could have my therapy session and go food shopping, to doctor’s appointments, anything that would give me a “me” day and allow me to spend the other 6 days totally focused on Ryan and not on my to-do list. We were lucky that we could afford this at the time and through the listserv I found someone perfect.

S came every Monday for two years. It was the perfect life balance. I felt level-headed and energized as a wife, mother and friend. When we decided to move, the distance would make it impossible to keep S, so we said our sad goodbyes.

A second child, a house, a blog and a business that I’m trying to get off the ground later, I WANT HER BACK. Or someone like her to appear on my doorstep. It would be ideal if she would work for free as well…

Man, I knew I was lucky to have that one day a week but I REALLY could use it now.

The wheels of my mind spin like crazy at the end of each day. I am not any busier than anyone I know, yet I need someone to put my life in order.

Tell me, people. How do you DO it? And can you help me? Because I’m about to either clone myself or give up something that I don’t want to give up.

I want to get at least 6 hours of sleep a night. Exercise 6 days a week. Blog 3x weekly. Finish all of the startup work on my website and get the business up and running. Stop always being in some state of laundry-doing. Shuttle my kids where they need to go. Play with them. Keep the house clean. Be a good friend. Put together the climbers that are sitting in a box in my backyard. Plan Lexi’s party. Make hair accessories every night and ship out orders. Upload pictures once a month. Get gifts for Birthdays and special occasions. Food shop. Get the car inspected. Read. Spend quality time with Cory. Watch a few innings of the baseball game. Write timely responses to my readers who send in questions. Do errands. And all that other stuff that makes up a regular day, week, month…

So this isn’t Earth-shattering stuff, but there just isn’t enough time in the day. So please tell me how you do it.

I’m listening.

Posted by Dani in Blah blah blah, complaints, etc., The Playbook and tagged with clone me, I need help, part-time nanny, taking care of me, therapy