I'm sleeping in the office tonight, plastered with Vicks vapor rub, humidifier humming, and just downed a hot glass of Nyquil. When Mommies gets sick, we isolate. We don't want to wake hubby with our hacking and don't want the kids to find us right away in the morning. So despite the cold, it's a bit of a reprieve.
I got to thinking about being a kid at Christmas so many moons ago, and how the single illumination of an colored electric candle in my bedroom window brought joy to my heart. My Mom was a 'single-mom' working two jobs to make sure my sister and I were provided for. She was not always a happy person but somehow, the days leading to Christmas brought a shine to her eyes. She'd stay up into the wee hours, sewing machine pumping out new nighties and dresses. She would pick us up from my Grandmother's, teasing us about the trunk-full of Zayre purchases. Mitch Miller's band and Willie Nelson would regale our living room with Christmas music. We made certain we understood the holiness of Christmas. And she refused to allow the burdens of her life ruin the Holidays. I like to think that it was the only time she allowed her inner child to reveal itself. She was at her best this time of year and I will always appreciate her for passing along her love of Christmas to me.
Like so many homes on our road, our windows are lit with the lovely glow of traditional white lights. But tonight, before tucking myself in to bed, I've replaced one of the bulbs with a frosted red one. And before the Nyquil takes hold, will watch the candle, smiling at those freshened childhood memories.
What is your favorite childhood memory of Christmas?
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Baby Shower Faux Pas
I received a very nice invitation to a baby shower a few weeks back. Well designed with adequate information. Scheduled for September 25, 10:00am, hosted by the Mom-to-be's friend and mother, at the residence of one of my Hubbie's Aunts. RSVP regrets only. I opened the invite, placed it with a pile of other mail on my desk, that I needed to get to, and promptly forgot about it.
September 25 was that stunning summer-like day a few weeks back. And on that morning, Hubbie said 'Let's take one last boat ride.' We chose the river for a trip to Richmond for some ice cream and after quick showers and packing some lunch, we were on the water well before noon. Since we had launched in Bath and our destination took us up-river, we cruised the West side, slowing down in front of Mike's Aunt's house. (Did I mention she lives on the river?) We were all waves and smiles and she stepped outside onto the porch to reciprocate. I am shouting with the kids, "Hello, Nana! We love you - we miss you!...." waving like Jackie Kennedy and still not registering that this is the DAY and LOCATION of the Baby Shower. Bless Nana, as she smiled politely and waved back, while all the while probably wondering about the mad woman her nephew had married.
It must be said that we had an immensely enjoyable family day and for that I am of course grateful. But when I unearthed the invitation the following Wednesday while finally purging my desk, the flashback to that moment on the river left me feeling horribly embarrassed.
I did try to redeem myself, given the circumstances. I called Nana, who seemed to get a kick out of it and did confess "We thought you had probably just forgotten". And then I called the Mom-to-Be who also got a good laugh and seemed pretty jovial about it all.
Looking back now, it is pretty hilarious. And I now have a new appreciation for sorting through the mail on a routine basis!
September 25 was that stunning summer-like day a few weeks back. And on that morning, Hubbie said 'Let's take one last boat ride.' We chose the river for a trip to Richmond for some ice cream and after quick showers and packing some lunch, we were on the water well before noon. Since we had launched in Bath and our destination took us up-river, we cruised the West side, slowing down in front of Mike's Aunt's house. (Did I mention she lives on the river?) We were all waves and smiles and she stepped outside onto the porch to reciprocate. I am shouting with the kids, "Hello, Nana! We love you - we miss you!...." waving like Jackie Kennedy and still not registering that this is the DAY and LOCATION of the Baby Shower. Bless Nana, as she smiled politely and waved back, while all the while probably wondering about the mad woman her nephew had married.
It must be said that we had an immensely enjoyable family day and for that I am of course grateful. But when I unearthed the invitation the following Wednesday while finally purging my desk, the flashback to that moment on the river left me feeling horribly embarrassed.
I did try to redeem myself, given the circumstances. I called Nana, who seemed to get a kick out of it and did confess "We thought you had probably just forgotten". And then I called the Mom-to-Be who also got a good laugh and seemed pretty jovial about it all.
Looking back now, it is pretty hilarious. And I now have a new appreciation for sorting through the mail on a routine basis!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Becoming Their Own
Yesterday, Nina boarded the school bus for her first day of second grade. Clad in a freshly pressed dress and her favorite sandals, she skipped across the road with barely a hint of a Good-Bye. I want her to be independent. And yet, when she shows these early signs of being just so, it pains the heart. It's funny, isn't it. On one hand, wishing for silence. Wishing for just 5 minutes of peace. Longing for a full 15 minutes of someone not needing something. And then, feeling the coldness of the void when, well, I am just not needed.
Sad but true. But that's what comes with being a Mom. The huge responsibility that is assigned by nature, the exhaustion that goes beyond comprehension - all par for the course of shaping our little ones into happy, confident beings. Those small signs independence, like MJ getting up to go pee by himself, and putting himself back to bed. And Nina's off-hand wave to me as she boldly strides across the road to pick a seat on the bus.
I am blessed to be friends with women who have raised multiple children. And who now have seen those children go off to college, start their own business, build homes and get married. Because my children are blossoming among the solid trees of THOSE children, I am happy.
Sad but true. But that's what comes with being a Mom. The huge responsibility that is assigned by nature, the exhaustion that goes beyond comprehension - all par for the course of shaping our little ones into happy, confident beings. Those small signs independence, like MJ getting up to go pee by himself, and putting himself back to bed. And Nina's off-hand wave to me as she boldly strides across the road to pick a seat on the bus.
I am blessed to be friends with women who have raised multiple children. And who now have seen those children go off to college, start their own business, build homes and get married. Because my children are blossoming among the solid trees of THOSE children, I am happy.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Tooth Fairy
Nina shook me awake at 3:45 am this morning, to tell me that she had rolled over and the tooth she had lost that day had been knocked from it's porcelain box and was somewhere in her bed. "Go back to bed, Nina..." I grumbled in half stupor. "But the fairy won't find it!" She insisted. And then it dawned on me. I had forgotten to take the tooth and leave the loot and the disturbance of my sleep was actually a blessing in disguise!
So in we go to her bedroom, lights turned on full beam, were she found the tooth in the sheets within 30 seconds. (Which was good considering my eyes were still barely slits) I got her settled back in with kisses and well wishes for sweet dreams.
But now I had to wait for her to go back to sleep, then wake up before her to do the deed. This also had to be orchestrated before little brother awoke, who, with his built-in-sonar, would undoubtedly hear the jingle of change being plopped in the tooth fairy box.
In the end, all worked out beautifully. I actually heard my watch alarm go off this time (my beckoning call for the gym) , snuck in her room, retrieved the tooth and filled the box with spare change without causing her so much as a stir. Even MJ stayed in slumber! Another near-miss on Fairy Duty thwarted!
So in we go to her bedroom, lights turned on full beam, were she found the tooth in the sheets within 30 seconds. (Which was good considering my eyes were still barely slits) I got her settled back in with kisses and well wishes for sweet dreams.
But now I had to wait for her to go back to sleep, then wake up before her to do the deed. This also had to be orchestrated before little brother awoke, who, with his built-in-sonar, would undoubtedly hear the jingle of change being plopped in the tooth fairy box.
In the end, all worked out beautifully. I actually heard my watch alarm go off this time (my beckoning call for the gym) , snuck in her room, retrieved the tooth and filled the box with spare change without causing her so much as a stir. Even MJ stayed in slumber! Another near-miss on Fairy Duty thwarted!
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Mother-of-the-year Award
Contrary to the title of this month's blog, today demonstrated a not-so-classy approach to parenting. I must confess.
It all began yesterday afternoon when my mother-in-law called me to announce that Nina had projectile vomited all over their deck after drinking a 'sippy'. (My mother-in-law's endearing term for some Red #5 colored powder that comes in a little package - just add water) Grampa had already hosed off the evidence, and Grammie had cleaned Nina up. By bedtime she was spiking a fever of 103.3.
At sunrise, my girl was well-colored, chipper and hungry, no fever. Today was to be 'beach day' with her 1st grade class. And, not wanting to be a bad mother, I agreed if she held down her food and had no fever by lunch, we would venture down to bid adieu to her classmates. (Tomorrow is their last official day)
By noon, all looked good so we went to the beach for a few hours for a low-key lunch and a bit of play in the sand (no swimming). All seemed right with the world while driving home, until MJ, (hot and napless) started to have a meltdown because he wanted his window open instead of AC. When I did not go through with meeting his latest demand, he began pounding on the window with a steel model jet he had in his hand. I was terrified he had put his hand through the window. After the relief of not finding him covered in glass had passed, my fear turned into seeing red (this was perhaps the millionth time he had been told not to do that)... I pulled over, asked him to give me the jet, got out of the car and threw it into the woods.
Now of course this only heightened MJ's tantrum and Nina (always coming to bat for her brother despite his ill tempers) just exclaimed, "Mama!" This downshifted my emotion of anger to guilt, and I spent the next 15 minutes looking for the jet, to no avail.
Okay, so beach day was ending on a somewhat sour note and I had not exactly modeled anger management for my feisty four-year-old, who seems to be falling right in stride with Mama. But all was forgotten by the time we rolled in the door. Until Nina looked at me glassy-eyed and flushed and said "I'm freezing". A thermometer reading confirmed a 102.00 temperature.
In the course of 24 hours I took my sick girl to the beach and threw one of my son's favorite toys into the forest. So what did I do? I called MY Mom. And as we girls know to be true, no one can comfort your guilt and shame better than Mom. Be it through her own experience as a mother or well-meaning lies, she made me forgive myself, reminded me that tomorrow is another day, and added "I bet he'll never do it again".
In the end, Nina's temperature was moderated by Ibuprofen and she was tucked in with her latest pulled-tooth under her pillow, happily smiling at the prospect of the tooth-fairy. I laid with MJ in his race-car bed, his head tucked into my shoulder, until he fell asleep. Yes, tomorrow is another day.
Namaste'
It all began yesterday afternoon when my mother-in-law called me to announce that Nina had projectile vomited all over their deck after drinking a 'sippy'. (My mother-in-law's endearing term for some Red #5 colored powder that comes in a little package - just add water) Grampa had already hosed off the evidence, and Grammie had cleaned Nina up. By bedtime she was spiking a fever of 103.3.
At sunrise, my girl was well-colored, chipper and hungry, no fever. Today was to be 'beach day' with her 1st grade class. And, not wanting to be a bad mother, I agreed if she held down her food and had no fever by lunch, we would venture down to bid adieu to her classmates. (Tomorrow is their last official day)
By noon, all looked good so we went to the beach for a few hours for a low-key lunch and a bit of play in the sand (no swimming). All seemed right with the world while driving home, until MJ, (hot and napless) started to have a meltdown because he wanted his window open instead of AC. When I did not go through with meeting his latest demand, he began pounding on the window with a steel model jet he had in his hand. I was terrified he had put his hand through the window. After the relief of not finding him covered in glass had passed, my fear turned into seeing red (this was perhaps the millionth time he had been told not to do that)... I pulled over, asked him to give me the jet, got out of the car and threw it into the woods.
Now of course this only heightened MJ's tantrum and Nina (always coming to bat for her brother despite his ill tempers) just exclaimed, "Mama!" This downshifted my emotion of anger to guilt, and I spent the next 15 minutes looking for the jet, to no avail.
Okay, so beach day was ending on a somewhat sour note and I had not exactly modeled anger management for my feisty four-year-old, who seems to be falling right in stride with Mama. But all was forgotten by the time we rolled in the door. Until Nina looked at me glassy-eyed and flushed and said "I'm freezing". A thermometer reading confirmed a 102.00 temperature.
In the course of 24 hours I took my sick girl to the beach and threw one of my son's favorite toys into the forest. So what did I do? I called MY Mom. And as we girls know to be true, no one can comfort your guilt and shame better than Mom. Be it through her own experience as a mother or well-meaning lies, she made me forgive myself, reminded me that tomorrow is another day, and added "I bet he'll never do it again".
In the end, Nina's temperature was moderated by Ibuprofen and she was tucked in with her latest pulled-tooth under her pillow, happily smiling at the prospect of the tooth-fairy. I laid with MJ in his race-car bed, his head tucked into my shoulder, until he fell asleep. Yes, tomorrow is another day.
Namaste'
Friday, April 29, 2011
Main Street
I am shamelessly in love with downtown Bath. Walking the brick sidewalk this morning, MJ in stride with a yellow balloon, I was once again reminded what a tremendous gem it is. We parked the car to finish a transaction at Country Farm Furniture, strolled to Cafe Creme for a Latte and cookie, and said Hello to Joe from Reny's as he set out the sidewalk sale. Two men plucked guitars on a bench in the sun. The Spring breeze caught brightly colored garments outside Bohemian Rose. Shoppers, and business folk and a handful of tourists unite here with various errands. From souvenirs, to laundry baskets, to fondue pots there is a store for every need. We can park the car, do our banking, get a gift or two and stock the pantry. Unlike many of the tourist destinations of the coast, Bath is a lovely combination of the eclectic and the practical. It's not untouchable nor lofty nor snootish. It's industry, art, business and history and it works so well. So as we walked in the sun this morning I paid silent gratitude to those who make it all possible.
http://visitbath.com/
http://visitbath.com/
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Will you accept this call?
There must be a well-guarded secret about having a decent telephone conversation with the kids present. For anyone who has children, you know exactly what I mean. I could roller-skate naked through the living room with the TV on, and be ignored (this could go for spouses too), but let them get a whiff of my being on the phone and every possible want or need is urgent.
When I first had Nina I was gifted a Baby Einstein DVD and in it, are lots of little vignettes of Mommies home with the kiddos, looking freshly showered and slim, happily chatting on the phone or tapping on the computer while the cherubs play blocks nearby.
Over the last 7 years at the helm, I've tried to recreate that scene. There's zillions of articles and books that provide suggestions and I've tried nearly everything. One suggestion was to provide scissors, bits of scrap paper and those little round stickers that help reinforce notebook paper. " Give them to the kids and let them have at it while you make your call. " A brilliant idea for distracting them for a time, as long as cleaning up after the cat's new haircut and scraping stickers of the woodwork is in the schedule for the afternoon.
Another tip was to simply ignore them. A pragmatic approach of not taking the bait. Fearless MJ just gets louder and more demanding, Nina becomes a cling-on quietly but consistently pulling on my clothes saying "Mama, Mama, Mama....but it's REALLY important"
Preparation is key. Everyone peed? check. Had their snack? check. Have something to do? Check. And then the pep talk. Eye contact a must. "Mommy has a business call to make.... I need you to be quiet until I am done...understand?"...the nodding of heads and "yes Mama, we understand." I am totally convinced they do understand and want to please at the time. But there seems to be something hard-wired within their cute little brains that sends the "I need Mommy" signal that they just can't help.
And time-outs, rewards, preparation and even bribery can't seem to intercept their impulse to interrupt.
So this morning when I had to talk to our financial advisor I turned on Curious George and stocked MJ with a cup of dry cereal. That afforded me ten minutes or so I needed and everyone was happy. In the end, 'plugging them in' and awarding with food worked for me, despite what the parenting magazines advise. Mj was out slogging in the mud with his dump truck within the half hour and I had another 'to do' checked off my list.
What is your secret?
When I first had Nina I was gifted a Baby Einstein DVD and in it, are lots of little vignettes of Mommies home with the kiddos, looking freshly showered and slim, happily chatting on the phone or tapping on the computer while the cherubs play blocks nearby.
Over the last 7 years at the helm, I've tried to recreate that scene. There's zillions of articles and books that provide suggestions and I've tried nearly everything. One suggestion was to provide scissors, bits of scrap paper and those little round stickers that help reinforce notebook paper. " Give them to the kids and let them have at it while you make your call. " A brilliant idea for distracting them for a time, as long as cleaning up after the cat's new haircut and scraping stickers of the woodwork is in the schedule for the afternoon.
Another tip was to simply ignore them. A pragmatic approach of not taking the bait. Fearless MJ just gets louder and more demanding, Nina becomes a cling-on quietly but consistently pulling on my clothes saying "Mama, Mama, Mama....but it's REALLY important"
Preparation is key. Everyone peed? check. Had their snack? check. Have something to do? Check. And then the pep talk. Eye contact a must. "Mommy has a business call to make.... I need you to be quiet until I am done...understand?"...the nodding of heads and "yes Mama, we understand." I am totally convinced they do understand and want to please at the time. But there seems to be something hard-wired within their cute little brains that sends the "I need Mommy" signal that they just can't help.
And time-outs, rewards, preparation and even bribery can't seem to intercept their impulse to interrupt.
So this morning when I had to talk to our financial advisor I turned on Curious George and stocked MJ with a cup of dry cereal. That afforded me ten minutes or so I needed and everyone was happy. In the end, 'plugging them in' and awarding with food worked for me, despite what the parenting magazines advise. Mj was out slogging in the mud with his dump truck within the half hour and I had another 'to do' checked off my list.
What is your secret?
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