Cultural divide

I know I'm more laid back than most; in fact, that's one of my favorite personality traits.  Typically, I don't identify with more rigid parenting, and have recently encountered another cultural divide over the prevention, treatment, and socialization of sick children.

I think Devon Corneal hits the nail on the head: people are obsessed with keeping their kids from getting sick and I think their kids suffer because of it.

Let me explain: I don't necessarily want to be up all night with a whiny, feverish child, but I tend to think that comes with the territory.  I don't necessarily want my child to be uncomfortable or hospitalized (God forbid), but I also don't want to keep the doors locked, windows shut, parkas on, with the hand sanitizer at my hip. I'm old school and believe that our immune system needs some exercise.  Plus, life is too short to be worried about what lurks on door handles and ball pits at McDonalds (pretty sure those are illegal now, but I remember hearing ridiculous warnings about razors and poop...).

What I find most amusing about germaphobes is the lack of understanding of what actually gets people sick (Let children out of the house; the weather doesn't get you sick). Like with the flu, we are actually contagious before we are symptomatic, so your kid's likely to get the crap even before I have the chance to put my kid's snot under the microscope to determine if it is a cold or just allergies.  So then what?  Should I apologize and grovel until your kid sick-bombs my kid?

I've had mothers call me and tell me about their kid's rapid onset of swine flu after a play date.  That's kind. I'm glad you called and sincerely appreciate the forewarning as it gives me the chance to stock up on creamer and children's ibuprofen.  But please don't apologize.  I don't hate you for living outside of a plastic bubble.  It's life, man.

There is a point where I draw the line: don't bring your whiny, feverish, uncomfortable child over to my house.  And why would that be?  They're super annoying.

Calm reached in the chaos of traffic.

I visited my former workplace last week and met with coworkers for lunch.

Jimmy told me not to go, and I was pretty sure he was right, but I was invited to lunch and am too nice to say no.

Jimmy was trying to protect my heart because he worried that I would become emotional.  He's not that off base...  He worried that if I found out the the organization was flourishing, I would feel like a failure because my replacement is better than me, therefore, I'm a loser.  If I were to hear that organization was failing, I'd regret leaving and worry that the children the organization fights for were suffering in my absence.

I was nervous to meet the girls.  Will I feel like a fool when I talk about playdates and poop schedules?  Will my heart break as they romanticize about their successes in my absence?  

It didn't play out the way I thought.  As I drove towards Capitol Hill (at 10:30 a.m., mind you), I hit traffic.  I became frustrated.  I started driving like an ass. And then all of the sudden amidst all the chaos and exhaust, I relaxed.

I became very thankful for the traffic. The stop. The go. The orange cones. The honks. The traffic lights. The jerks.

The traffic made me reflect on how much this drive, that organization, and working for a paycheck affected my family.

Only moments after having painful butterflies, my stomach was as calm as if I were on a trip to the post office.  I held my head high, confident in the choice we made as a family, and eager to show them my kids' latest tricks and the happiness in my soul, thanks to my job as a mom.

And you know what?  I truly enjoyed lunch... especially their success stories.

Reagan is hilarious.

#3?

They sure are helpful!

The Real OC

Since Maryland was colonized first, Ocean City, MD is the real OC.  Screw those Californians and their posh Orange County.  Give me some Fishers Popcorn and a ticket to the Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum and I forget all about designer purses and beach-front mansions.  Good thing, since we can't afford them anyway...

We went to OC for a tournament with Jimbo's softball team, Real Chill, and had such a great time.   Having never spent time in Ocean City, I figured it was on par with Myrtle Beach, SC, -- not a complement since Myrtle and I do not see eye-to-eye.

I stand corrected.

Ocean City has a bit of everything and is HUGE compared to Myrtle.  I loved the boardwalk, and the kids couldn't get enough of the Ferris wheel.  --Hilarious sidebar: Jimmy is terrified of heights, so he just about committed suicide on the ride.  It's hard to find anything that scares Mr. Macho, so I quite enjoyed watching him squirm. --  Bruce and Tracy even came on Saturday to help show me around the town and watch one of Jimmy's games. It was great.  Totally worth the money and I can't wait for our next trip.

The kids were WONDERFUL, so I have no complaints there, but I also look forward to a kid-less trip. Maybe next time... wanna babysit?!

At least one is jazzed to be on the Ferris wheel!

 

 

Blood runs deep with these two.

Monkey see, monkey do!

  

Tracy's a bathing beauty until she gets clobbered.

 

Love me some Uncle Bruce.  He's a kid and (obviously) babe magnet.

 

Nothing like an Ashton greeting.

 

Judge not

"We're flawed -- we're human beings and sometimes you make choices that other people are going to judge. That's their problem, but I think that the more I live my life, the more I learn not to judge people for what they do. I think we're all trying our best, but life is complicated."- Gwyneth Paltrow

Having two young and very active toddlers running around is so embarrassing.  I know look like a crazy person everywhere I go.  I'm laid back, so I find that those that are more uptight and regimented have children that appear angels in public.  My kids aren't bad, necessarily, they're just spirited...  Besides, I hate to be the bad guy, so I chose my battles in fear of correcting so much that they stop listening entirely.  

Point:  I know people judge me.  

A year ago, I was absorbed with being perceived as the perfect mom.  You know what?  It ain't happenin'!  I make plans and the youngins figure out a way to ruin change them.

My kids play hard. They are often disheveled (and pantless, thank you Ashton).  But I believe that's what life's about.  

It isn't that I can't be the fun-police; it's just that I don't want to be.  

Ultimately, it doesn't matter, because I judge you bitches too.

These Things Should Come with a Manual!

Think your kid's going to look prim and proper all the time?  Think again!

I continually run into little parenting hiccups and think, "why the hell am I reinventing the wheel?!"   I took preparing for parenthood very, very seriously, and being a responsible almost parent and workaholic by nature, I researched endlessly.   I wanted to know everything about everything.  I made sure we took all of the classes offered for new parents at our hospital and I kept TLC's "Baby Story" show on repeat, just in case I needed a visual.

However, as I grow as a parent and face new challenges, I find that I am figuring things out on my own, with no manual, all the time.  An easy example of this happened hours after Ashton was born.  Imagine that you've been a parent for like 2 minutes and the nurse leaves you alone with this alien for your first night together.   In this case, Ashton fell asleep and Jimmy and I triumphed at our parenting success, as if we discovered the cure for cancer.  All of the sudden, Ashton starts making this horrific noise, like he is coughing up a hair ball combined with the gurgle of drowning.  We spring to action and attempted to figure out how to save this little being. As if on cue, 3 minutes after the ordeal is quasi-handled, the nurse comes in with not a care in the world.  Our hypersensitive, I-can-fix-anything, new dad musters the courage to ask about the near death experience, and the nurse casually informs us that 90% of infants expel amniotic fluid hours or days after they are born.   WHERE THE HELL WAS THAT IN OUR 438 BABY BOOKS?!!!

I think the problem with the parenting books is that the author wrote them after the fact, and only the big issues remained in their memory.  Or more stupidly in my opinion, the authors feel like events such as the above example are handled differently by every individual parent, so offering an untested personal suggestion might remove their credibility or deny the new parent of his/her right to do it their own way.  The good news is I don't have any credibility other than my two years of experience and I just don't care whether or not anyone has their feelings hurt by my suggestions.  You can take 'em or leave 'em.  But it would be really neat to have you comment on the blog with a story or suggestion!

So I have a running list of things every parent should know that no one cared to share with me. Stay tuned for my posts with hilarious stories and pictures illustrating these new parent 'flamboozles.'  

living in the 1800s

As family and friends know, we were hit by Hurricane Irene and lost power for almost 96 hours.  It was a time of family stress as we begged family and friends for shelter and support, while trying to entertain two very active children.  I kept a photo journal of the Hurricane aftermath, which shows what in the world we did for all of that time.

Lessons learned:
1. When meeting a new neighbor, you should greet them as such, "Hi. Welcome, blah, blah, what they said.  Do you have a generator?"
2.  When preparing for the storm, beat the rush and grab 4000 D batteries because a) they will be nowhere to be found, b) you'll use them like water, c) they're a great bartering item.
3.  Before shit hits the fan, buy alcohol.  Nothing worse than no power and no booze.
4.  Buy an ample supply of Kleenex, so when you lose your entire refrigerator and freezer, which is worth hundreds of dollars, you'll have something to wipe your tears.
5.  Practice diapering in the dark: little annoying, and consequently messy, to learn on the fly.

Here's us the night Irene hits the beach:

First night without power.  This is before the laptop battery died (obviously).

Photo shoot with Reagan and her new pony tail.  Ashton's asleep, but no concern about being outside while he snoozes, since every window possible is open. 

Out to dinner with Keshia for her birthday.  Visit was extended, so that we could enjoy the sand and sculptures for entertainment sake.

Had to take advantage of McDonald's play place since every park was closed for tree removal and inspection.  How convenient.

Trip to PetsMart, which is much like a zoo, but has air-conditioning.

Our preference is to have one of us stay home with the kids while the other one plays softball, especially since these games start at 8:15 p.m.  However, the kids didn't sleep much through the debacle, so we brought them along.  They were so covered in dirt by the end that they looked like no one owned them.