It seems everyone has a routine. Get up, go to work, come home, have dinner, etc. I kinda had one down pretty good for the past two years or so, but now it’s time to find a new one. Here’s the question, is there anything routine about your days when you’re a mom? After having two children in the house for about two weeks now, I can tell you the answer is no. When you have a job to go to with set hours, I think it’s easier to set a schedule because you are forced to. But, when you’re home and your job, A.K.A. taking care of your kids, has no start time and no end time, it gets complicated. Nevertheless, I am still looking for a routine (don’t laugh!).
I can tell you what has been routine so far…changing lots of diapers, doing lots of laundry , serving as the dairy cow, and trying to share my time as equally as possible with two kids while still trying to find time for the hubby and myself. As all the mommas know, this is far from easy. Although it may sound like I’m complaining, I’m really not. I’m just stating the facts. I know what I signed up for. I read the fine print and am on board with the program. I’m just trying to figure out how to make it go as smoothly as possible, if that is possible! For me, the hardest part of having two kids has been splitting my time between everyone. My two-year-old wants to play 24/7. We had lots of play time before her little sister arrived and now I’m trying to preserve some of that. So, when the baby naps, we have our special time. That is not always enough for her. Of course she wants attention when I’m feeding her sister or holding her. But, I can only serve one customer at a time. So, she is reluctantly learning the importance of patience.
Then there’s my newborn. Right now, her needs are pretty simple. She needs to be fed, changed, bathed, and most importantly loved. She sleeps a lot, which is a great help, and is pretty much content in her swing or bouncy chair. While her needs are simple, they are time consuming as well. If you’ve ever breastfed, you know it takes time and each feeding is different. Throw in some quality time with the pump and it can be a full time job.
After the kids, comes time for the hubby and time for me. But, how does that fit into the big routine? With everything else going on, these two things seem to be a luxury. With the kids wanting all your attention, it becomes a challenge to find time to carve out for yourself and your spouse. For us, it means catching up on a favorite show in the DVR and chit chatting here and there. For a little “me time”, I’ve snuck in some favorite magazines and phone calls with friends. The time may is not as much as before, but at least it’s something.
With all of these pieces of the pie, how do you fit them all in on a daily basis to form some kind of routine? If someone has the answer, please let me know! For now, having no routine is my routine.
AUTHOR ARCHIVES :
A Place I Never Thought I’d Be
When you think about giving birth to your child, the painful labor always comes to mind. But you know it will definitely be worth it when they place that baby in your arms and you get to take him or her home and start your life with the new addition to your family. What you don’t envision is not getting to hold him or her, and not being able to take him or her home when you leave the hospital. You don’t think you’ll see your baby in the NICU with tubes and machines hooked up to her 24/7 and doctors and nurses whispering about their next course of treatment. You don’t think you’ll be sitting by a plastic incubator for hours at a time wondering if and when you’ll get to hold your baby or if she even knows you are sitting right there and that you are her mommy. You don’t think these things will happen, but they do to so many parents, including myself.
My baby girl spent the first 10 days of her life in the NICU after developing some respiratory issues after birth. Unlike many parents with children in the NICU, I got to hold my daughter after she was born. I had no idea there was any problem and apparently neither did anyone else. She looked perfect. It wasn’t until she went to get her vitals checked that they realized there was a problem. At first it seemed as though she would be back with us in a few hours, but that quickly changed when the doctors said she needed to go downstairs and spend some time in the NICU. A few hours turned into one night, which quickly turned into days. My heart was broken. This was not the way it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be with us. There were supposed to be smiling visitors and balloons. There were supposed to be pictures. But there was none of that. Instead, the days were filled with tears, constant worrying, praying, and lots of waiting.
I spent most of my time in the NICU, sitting by her little incubator. I could touch her, but holding her was out of the question because she was hooked up to so many things. Every time I went to see her or talk to the doctors, I just cried and cried. They reassured me that she was going to be ok. But, that was little comfort. I kept asking why it happened because I blamed myself. I am her mother. She grew inside me for nine months. I must have done something to cause this and now the worst part was I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t protect her, which is every parent’s instinct. All I could do was put all my trust and hope in doctors and modern medicine. The doctors just kept telling me it was no one’s fault and these things just happen. That answer wasn’t enough to get rid of the responsibility I felt. I replayed every part of my pregnancy over and over in my head, trying to come up with a reason that this could have happened. As I would ask the doctors about different scenarios, they would just tell me there was no one way to tell and once again that these things just happen. Tell that to the countless parents I saw with babies in the NICU. Each baby had his or her own story, but to me the mothers’ stories were all the same. We all exchanged sympathetic eyes. Some of us talked to each other about our situations, but in the end it was all the same. We all just wanted our babies home and healthy.
That was one of the worst parts of this whole experience… going home without my baby. I remember going home after my first daughter was born and feeling so happy and excited. Not quite this time around. I felt empty. Something, rather someone was missing. My baby had to stay in the hospital to get better. Period. I had to accept it, whether I wanted to or not. I could come and visit her anytime I wanted. Parents shouldn’t have to “visit” their newborns. But, this was the reality for the next eight days. My husband and I took turns, spending hours at the hospital, just sitting by her side. When you have time to just sit and think, your thoughts can be your worst enemy. Your mind goes on a crash course of places you don’t want it to, playing all the “what if” scenarios. Your mind doesn’t allow you to go to the places where something good happens.
But, good things did start to happen for us. She did start to improve and slowly she was removed from different machines. Eventually, I did get to hold her. Of course, I cried. It was the first time in days that I was able to hold my baby.It was the first time in days I felt like things were going to get better and she would get to come home. And she did. I cried as we walked out of the NICU, but this time they were happy tears. We carried our baby past all the others who were not fortunate enough to come home yet. I said a little prayer, hoping one day soon they could get to go home too.
When I think about bad experiences, I have to say, this is definitely at the top of the list. But my mom always told me that God doesn’t give you something you can’t handle. She was right. Somehow I handled this, but it wasn’t without a lot of love and support from family and friends. I also learned that you really have to count your blessings because life is truly unpredictable and many times you end up in places you never thought you’d be.
One of These Things is Not Like the Other
Babies R Us, Motherhood Maternity, Target…those have really been the extent of my shopping experiences over the last few months while I’ve been pregnant. Throw in a random trip to J.C. Penney and Macy’s and that just about covers it. Most of it has been to buy practical things…some new maternity shirts, gifts, clothes for my daughter, and some necessities for the new arrival. I haven’t really bought anything for myself because I figure what’s the point in buying new clothes when I don’t know what post-baby has in store for me.
But, my good friends at Victoria’s Secret (actually we’re not really good friends, more like acquaintances, but I digress) sent me some coupons in the mail. Some were for percentages off your purchase when you spend a certain amount. But there was one for a free pair of underwear. There’s not a lot that’s free in the world and my motto has always been if it’s free, it’s for me. So I decided to cash in on my coupon. I took my daughter on a nice little stroller ride through the mall and stopped in Victoria’s Secret. Well, I’m surprised an alarm didn’t go off when I stepped foot inside. Let’s just say with my bulging pregnant belly and bouncing two-year-old in the stroller, I didn’t exactly blend in. To my right were some women checking out the latest lingerie…they needed to eat a twinkie. To my left in the “Pink” section were a bunch of teenie bopper girls wondering what sweatpants to buy. It is apparently very important which word is on your butt, silly me.
So I waddled over to the table to get my free grub when a bubbly girl asked if I needed help. I’m surprised she didn’t ask me if I was lost or if I needed directions. I told her I was just picking out my free underwear. She did point me in the right direction and then asked if she could help me with anything else. I looked at her, looked at my belly, looked at her again and politely said no. When she realized she wasn’t going to make a dime off of me, she slowly strolled away.
As I rummaged through the table, I realized that some things have changed since I had been here last…mainly the sizes. I think the size small could have fit my two-year-old. What grown woman could fit into those? I have wash clothes bigger than those underwear. Obviously, I was starting to feel like getting the free pair of underwear just wasn’t worth it. But, I kinda already felt like I committed, so I figured I might as well follow through. So, I sifted through to sadly determine my “new mommy” size and get to the register. Once I got there, the Barbie behind the counter asked me why I wasn’t using my other coupons. For the love of Pete, just give me my free underwear and let me get out of here! I pointed to my belly and told her it just wasn’t practical right now. I got an “oh”. Yeah, “oh” is right. So, she wrapped up my non-purchase and I was on my way. I dodged my way through the dental floss undies and super padded push-up bras. Luckily, my daughter was too obsessed with her cheerios the whole time and didn’t say much. I just couldn’t wait to get out of there. I was feeling kinda dumb being in there, but they did send me a coupon. And if you know me, I haven’t met a coupon I didn’t like. Maybe they need to add a line of fine print on the bottom of the coupon that says, “pregos steer clear, if you come in, you’ll find one of these things is clearly not like the other.”
Three’s a Crowd
You’ve heard the saying….two’s company, three’s a crowd…well nothing can be more true when it comes to sleeping and kids. I have to admit up front that I am really against letting kids sleep in their parents’ bed. Call me mean, but the only time I think it’s o-k is when they’re sick, because who doesn’t need a little extra TLC when they’re feeling icky? I just think once they get used to sleeping with you and your spouse on a regular basis, they are going to think that’s the norm. Sorry to say it’s not. I am coming to painfully realize that breaking bad habits isn’t easy, especially with kids. So why start another one?
With that said, I think you can guess that my daughter has taken up sleeping with mommy and daddy on a semi-regular basis. This is her M-O….we put her in her bed. She’ll sleep there for a few hours, wake-up, and call for one of us. When no one comes to her rescue, she takes it upon herself to get out of her toddler bed and come into our room. (Boy do I miss the crib days) Although the bed is too high for her, she scales it like Mount Everest, finds her spot between us and snuggles in for the rest of the night. She falls asleep instantly, which tells me she didn’t have any real problem while in her bed. She wasn’t wet, hungry, or sick. She apparently just wanted some company. If you try to take her out and put her back in her bed, holy hell breaks loose. There is screaming, arms flying, feet stomping….all at 2 or 3 in the morning. Lovely. Sometimes we try to be hard with her and keep her in her bed, other times, sleepiness wins, and we fold like Gumby. I know, I know, we’re not helping the situation, but sometimes you just gotta sleep!
Some people tell me it’s just a phase she’s going through because we are expecting baby number two very soon. Parents who have lived through this hell, say she knows someone else is coming and doesn’t want to feel left out. Lord only knows what’s down the road when the baby actually gets here and is in our room (in his or her bassinet mind you) for awhile. They all tell me she will grow out of it. When? Others say she could be afraid of the dark. But she has a really nice night light and has never been afraid of the dark before. Maybe she’s having nightmares, who knows? She used to love sleeping in her big girl bed…alone…every night….for awhile now. I would really love if she could communicate what the problem is when we ask. But we’re not up to that point yet. Does anyone have any suggestions to get her back in her own bed or do we just have to suck it up for awhile?
SpongeBob Bashing…Right or Wrong?
Everyone knows just how popular SpongeBob SquarePants is with kids. But, now some researchers say you shouldn’t let your four-year-old watch the show. In case you haven’t heard, researchers found that four-year-olds who watched just nine minutes of the show displayed short-term attention and learning problems. But, their findings are the results of tests of only 60 kids. They compared their results to kids who watched the slower-paced kids’ cartoon “Caillou” and to kids who were told to draw pictures. Kids who watched that cartoon or drew pictures did better on the mental tests than the SpongeBob group. Nickolodeon says SpongeBob is not geared toward four –year-olds, rather it’s for 6 to 11 year olds.
Whatever the case, I think we all know there are plenty of four-year-olds who watch SpongeBob. I know a lot of parents who let their kids watch the show and their kids are just fine. I think that’s one of the many reasons I have a big issue with this study. First of all, you’re only sampling 60 kids. I’ve never conducted a study, but that seems like a very small part of the population to base your findings. I would be curious to know if the kids tested watched SpongeBob before. If so, for how long? What other shows do they watch? How frequently do they watch them? There are so many questions, yet so few answers.
In my house, we’re not into SpongeBob (yet). But, would I turn it off if my daughter was interested in it? Not based on this study, that’s for sure. Maybe I would just let her watch it for eight minutes and see what happens (ha ha). Sure, SpongeBob pops up on the TV every now and again, but she’s just not into it. However, we do watch “Caillou” once in awhile. She seems to get bored with the poor kid (maybe he’s too slow, maybe the researchers need to test that one out). Seeing the popularity and success SpongeBob has had, I don’t think the millions of kids who have been watching him for more than nine minutes of their lives have attention problems. Just look at the booming business SpongeBob has become. His porous face is everywhere. They wouldn’t keep making the stuff if people weren’t buying it. I think researchers need to get out of the pineapple house on this one, relax, and grab a Krabby Patty.
My Least Favorite Word
Do you want waffles for breakfast? No. Do you want to put your clothes on? No. Do you want to go shopping? No. Have you guessed what my least favorite word is these days? Yes, it’s no. I have come to despite one of the most common words in the English language. Why? Because that is all I hear these days.
Is it just a coincidence that my daughter has turned two and this has become her most spoken word (in addition to hi and ma, which she yells out like Stewy on Family Guy, which has also become annoying)? I’m sure (or at least I think) it all fits in perfectly with her becoming her own little person and forming her own little attitude. I just wish I didn’t have to suffer in the process.
My favorite use of the word “no” is when she repeats it like she’s a CD skipping. Add a little whining in with it and you have the perfect recipe for a migraine headache with boiling blood pressure. Bake at 350 and presto…a good combo for a woman who is about to give birth in less than a month. It’s like she knows exactly what buttons to press when she starts belting out the word. If I’m lucky, after all the no’s I get a little feet stomping and on a real good day, she’ll start to lay down on the floor. I know you’re jealous. Sometimes I try to ignore it, sometimes I yell, sometimes I try to rationalize with her (ha ha). No matter what I do, the answer is still no. Sometimes I even start repeating the word in her face. That doesn’t seem to have the same effect on her as it does on me.
I tell myself, I can’t wait for her to master the word “yes”. Although she’ll probably use it when she wants to say no anyway. Either way, I’m kinda stuck. A lot of people have told me this kind of thing happens when kids learn how to talk. Is there anyway to stop them? I think you know the answer…no.
Leashes…Love ‘Em or Hate ‘Em?
Before I had a child, I thought leashes were only for dogs, other small animals, and at times, husbands (just kidding, ha ha). But now, I’ve been exposed to a whole new world…leashes for children. We all know how hard it can be to keep kids from running around all over the place when you’re in a store trying to shop. There’s only so many times you can say “no”, “get over here”, “don’t touch.” It also gets annoying if you have to go and chase them down as you’re rummaging through a clothing rack to find a size medium (not everyone is small or large people, they need to make more mediums…but I digress).
There are a few solutions to this problem, A). Put them in a shopping cart if it’s a store that has one. B). Bring a stroller. C.) Leave them at home. “C” would be the best solution, but it’s just not practical. You can’t drop off your kid every time you have to run an errand. There’s also D.) Try to control them the best you can and deal with the outcome…or my least favorite E.) Put them on a leash.
My husband and I were shopping recently and saw one woman who opted for choice “E.” From the looks of him, I’d say the child was about four years old. The mom was holding the leash which attached to an ever so stylish teddy bear backpack and harness. By adding the teddy bear, I guess it’s supposed to make the kid feel as if it’s fun to get walked like a dog.
She was walking her child through the parking lot just as if she was walking her Doberman. I joked to my husband that I knew we forgot something at home. I looked down and was so thankful my daughter fell asleep. We opted for choice “B” that day. By the grace of God, our little one passed out in the stroller and we were able to do what we had to do.(Trust me this was just a fluke.)
Getting back to the leash lady, I have to say the little boy didn’t seem to mind. He surely didn’t go anywhere his mother didn’t want him to go. It just looked so wrong to me to put a harness on a child and control his every move. I know a lot of people may disagree with me and think the leash is the best route and convenient. But, I think kids need to learn that in the real world, you need to control yourself. Adults don’t walk each with leashes, and parents shouldn’t walk their kids with one either.
I compare this concept to the “cry rooms” in churches. One of the churches I used to go to has a cry room. I used to take me daughter in there so we wouldn’t disturb the other parishioners. The only person I ended up disturbing was myself. My daughter thought it was happy hour and went to socialize with everyone in there. There was no way I could possibly pray, except to hope mass would be over soon. Other kids were doing the same thing though. It was like a daycare, with some Alleluias thrown in every now and again. Even the parents were chit chatting. Now we go to a church without a cry room and she behaves 100 percent better because she knows she has to. Sure she turns around and waves to people and makes some noise. But 90 percent of the time, she’s occupied by the toys I bring and the simple surroundings. I think the same thing is true when it comes to leashes. Teach kids that they have to behave without a leash and they’ll learn that’s what people in the real leash-free world do. You can’t put a leash on them forever, so what happens when they outgrow them? Do you teach them self-control at that age? So many questions, but one simple answer…save the leash for Fido.
The Need to Nest
It’s here…the need to nest has arrived and I’m rolling out the red carpet. I remember during the first pregnancy, I suddenly had the urge to organize all my clothes and my husband’s too for that matter. I wanted to organize utensil drawers…and anything else I could get my hands on. Someone told me my nesting phase was started. I didn’t know what the heck that meant. I’m not a bird. But then I learned it’s the urge pregnant women get to get things organized. It supposedly helps us prepare and feel ready for the baby. I read up on it and learned that it sometimes can be a sign that labor isn’t too far off. But, some women do get it early on in their pregnancy too, and maybe some women don’t get it at all.
People who know me, know I can be a bit of a neat freak by nature. It’s just in my DNA. So, add a little nesting instinct and you’ve got Martha Stewart on a Charlie Sheen party binge. Unfortunately, I’ve had to let go of a lot of organizing after having my first child. I’ve learned mess is not necessarily best, but sometimes you have to suck it up and deal with it. But, now the need to nest is trying to take over some of the clutter and shake me up a bit.
During the first pregnancy, I went on a nesting binge only to have my husband come home one day to find all his clothes folded and put away nicely in the drawers. The clothes in the closet were organized too…all the long sleeve shirts were together, while all the short sleeve shirts and pants had a new home. All of my clothes followed similar orders. Everything was organized…at least for awhile!
This time is turning out to be no different, but with just one exception…finding the time to do it all. The little men in my head are working overtime with all the projects I want to complete before baby number two enters the world. Besides organizing clothes, there are pictures that need to be put into photo albums, cabinets that need to be rearranged…files that need to be fixed. Don’t even get me started on the stuff I want to organize for the new baby! But, there’s also a little two-year-old girl that also needs lots of attention and love, so I’m not sure how much of that is going to get done. I think the key is to have her help me! Although I don’t know how well that would work out. All I know is my nesting need is ready to hatch.
Marking Milestones
Graduations, weddings..they’re among the milestones that parents cry and sigh over. I know those are way down the road for me, but there are some little milestones happening right now that are already getting me a little misty. My daughter just turned two and she’s doing so many things on her own now. I know, I know, it’s part of life, but I don’t want to see her grow up! Parents who have already gone through these things can relate I’m sure.
Before I became a mom, I used to roll my eyes when I heard other moms talk about milestones like first steps, first words, etc. Sure they’re great I thought, but nothing to grab the Kleenex box over. But, now that I have experienced those things I can totally relate and can’t believe what an idiot I was. Those are really BIG deals. I’ll admit when my daughter took her first steps, I cried. When she first said “momma” I screamed really loud. I was so excited that she knew who I was and could verbalize it. Now, she won’t stop saying it, which is a subject for an entirely different blog!
Now that she’s two, a lot of my duties are done. My job of feeding her is basically over. I just cut up her food and put it on her plate and she eats it all by herself. This milestone is a great one, because I can now actually eat my food while it’s semi-hot. Not necessarily one to cry over, but still a change that signals she’s no longer a little baby.
Gone are the days of loading her up in the baby carrier and bringing her to and from the car. No more trying to balance her and bags and keys and whatever else may be in my hands at the time. Now, I just get her out of the car seat and watch her walk to the door and wait for me to open it. Again, not a particularly bad thing going on here.
But one thing that really pulled at my heart strings happened about a month ago when we put the toddler rails on her crib. We just kinda figured it was time and we should do it. The minute they went on and she realized she could climb in and out of bed herself. It was a whole new world. She now has a big girl pillow and knows she can sleep like everyone else. By getting out of bed whenever she wants, she is getting her first taste of freedom. No more waiting for mommy or daddy to come in and scoop her out of the crib. She also knows she can fall out of bed if she’s not careful. And she did, but only once. I don’t think she liked that part of it very much, But I think she does enjoy getting up before us and running into our room as we’re still trying to figure out what time of the morning it is. Right now it’s a quarter past my little baby is growing up. Soon it will ten till she gets her license and starts liking boys (God help us!). I know we have a ways to go, and there are so many more milestones to mark before we get to that point.
I’ve come to realize that having a child really gives you a true grasp of how precious time really is. One minute you’re holding them in the hospital and the next they’re ready to say bye-bye. So, I think we shouldn’t just mark milestones, but try to mark minutes, hours, and days because you’re never going to get them back.
Is Chivalry Dead?
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It seems this summer a lot of my dilemmas and drama stems from trips to the beach. My most recent visit had me asking…is chivalry dead? Here’s the story…For some of us, putting up a beach umbrella is not easy. If you think it is, then good for you. Add a pregnant belly and a rambuncious almost two year-old child and it doesn’t get any easier. During a visit to my local beach, my 16-year-old niece and I fought to get the umbrella in the sand. We dug and dug using our plastic shovels and tried to get it to stay. When that didn’t work we got pails of water to make a “sand cement”. We thought that was the key. And it was….for all of 5 minutes. The umbrella blew away. We ran after it. While this whole scenario was playing out, one guy in his twenties was sitting a few feet away witnessing the whole thing while tanning in his chair. Do you think he got up to help? Nope. There was another older man sitting on the other side. Surely he must have heard me cursing the sand. Do you think he got up to help? Nope. So, we decided not to try again and just surrender to the sun. I slopped on another layer of sunscreen on myself and my daughter. I was more concerned about the sun exposure to my daughter seeing that she already has a better tan than me this summer. Definitely not my genes. Nonetheless, it appeared as though we would never got our umbrella up, so extra sunscreen it was.
After looking around and noticing I was getting no love while the sun was beating on my daughter, I looked in the horizon. At last…my savior was riding in on an ATV. No, it wasn’t David Hasselhoff from “Baywatch”, but two local cops on the beach patrol beat. They must be itching for something to do seeing that patrolling the beach in an ATV can’t be that hard. Although they didn’t see all the trouble we went through, I thought maybe they would help if they saw the umbrella lying in the sand. Silly me. They were talking to one another, totally engrossed in their conversation when they shifted the ATV in park and crossed the street to get something to eat before I could get my pregnant butt off the sand chair to ask for help.
I told my niece I would ask them when they got back, as the umbrella continued to protect the sand from the beating sun. But, to be honest, by the time I turned around, they were already revving their engine, still engrossed in their conversation. I felt defeated, but too annoyed to try to rush to stop them and ask for help. So, I did what anyone else would do. I went on Facebook and complained about it. I got some funny responses. All the while, my daughter didn’t seem to mind the sun, but it bothered me that she was there without shade. Then I noticed a guy who drove up to the shore on his jet ski. He was talking to some women who had kids ( minus an umbrella I may add, maybe they just didn’t even bother with the aggravation). I scoped him out to make sure he wasn’t a wack-a-do. My nutso sensor didn’t ring, so I got up and approached him. I said, “Excuse me, do you think you can help us get our beach umbrella up so my daughter can play in the shade? It’s kinda hard when it’s hot out and you’re pregnant.” Yeah, I played the pregnant card, so sue me. He said sure and came right over.
I started telling him about my whole ordeal. He agreed that some people are really rude. He also admitted that he had trouble last week getting his umbrella to stay in the sand. He dug and dug, spending quite awhile to get it all ready…(and even used our sand cement idea). Then wa-la…our umbrella was up, there was shade, I was happy! I thanked him over and over again as he hopped on his jet ski into the sound, only to come ashore some other day to help a pregnant damsel in distress.(ok, maybe a little dramatic there) I’ll have you know, while this was going on, the other guy sitting around, the Jersey Shore wanna-be, was still sitting there working on his tan. The older guy had left at this point. Word to the wise…chivalry goes a long way, a tan fades in weeks.
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