MomSelect Gave me these CDs to give away but the opinions are all mine.
One of the coolest things about being a mom today is that all the cool stuff we loved, as kids are all popular again! Cheyanne has quite the collection of My Little Pony’s, Cabbage Patch Dolls, a ton of Care Bears and of course some sweet smelling Strawberry Shortcake dolls. Maybe I’m reliving my youth through my daughter, but she doesn’t seem to complain too much.
That’s why when I got the opportunity to review a CD demo of the new rebooted Rainbow Brite I was all over it. My sister and I of course loved Rainbow Brite. As girls we all love dolls and we all love Rainbows so… pretty much a no brainer. Well Cheyanne was no exception to this rule.
When we popped the CD in the computer Cheyanne fell instantly in love with Rainbow Brite and her friends, and it is her new favorite thing to do on the computer. The CD is full of games, activities, animated shorts and even some music. And I’ve got 6 that I’m giving away. This is officially my first giveaway, yay me!
All you have to do is leave a comment here with YOUR favorite childhood character and I’ll pick six random comments who will get their own interactive Rainbrow Brite CD.
Don’t forget to check out http://www.rainbowbrite.com/ and take a look at the new Rainbow Brite line from Hallmark.
Contest ends February 14th
Cheyanne In The Bassinet
The bassinet was cream-colored and the height could be adjusted so it was even with the bed to make for easy breastfeeding at night. It had ruffles and a basket on the bottom and we could rock it. It was one of the first things we purchased after an amnio confirmed that we were almost halfway through a healthy pregnancy.
Patrick in his Crib
That bassinet sat full of stuffed toys in the corner of the nursery next to the full size crib that we got for when he got a little bigger. Then when he was born we moved it into our room where it was his bed for those first three months.
Two years later that bassinet came back out and was Cheyanne’s bed for the first three months after she was born. At the same time that cream bassinet was moved out of the garage and into our room for a second time we purchased a toddler bed. Having just turned two Patrick seemed too small still for a big twin bed but had long outgrown his crib.
As we prepared for Cheyanne’s arrival and placement into the bassinet, Patrick made the leap from crib to toddler bed.
Patrick in the Toddler Bed
A year later we moved to a bigger house. In Patrick’s room there was an alcove built into the wall that fit a twin mattress. This was going to be Patrick’s bed. Since it was high off the ground we put a rail up, to be safe, and he made the move. Cheyanne was then ready to move from the crib to the toddler bed.
Cheyanne In Her New Twin Bed
So what has got me visiting the ghosts of children’s beds past?
This weekend we put up bunk beds in Patrick’s room and a big beautiful twin sleigh bed in Cheyanne’s.
These are huge milestones. These beds will be the beds they spend the rest of their childhood (assuming no unforeseen accidents force us to replace them before then). The bed he will lay on while reading his history book and will study for finals on. The bed she will lay on while talking to her friends on the phone.
There is no more bassinet, cribs or toddler beds for them to move into. I know, I know. Maybe it’s silly of me to get so mushy at my six and four-year olds moving into real beds. But I can’t help myself.
Because to me, no matter what bed they’re laying in, when I look in on their sleeping faces I will always see the same little faces that I saw in that bassinet beside me.
Sniff.
Most of you on Facebook may have noticed the retro thing going on with people’s profile pictures. Well considering how many dozens photo albums and picture boxes I have stocked full of millions of pictures, I thought it would be fun to pull out some old pictures, scan them and then tag all my old school friends. But instead I ended up spending an entire evening pouring through every single photo album and photo box I own.
I have pictures that of course begin with me as a baby, my childhood, teen years and into the years my husband and I were dating, our wedding and of course there were tons of both pregnancies and the kids all the way through now. My mind is kind of racing full of all the memories. It’s so weird to look back and see how much I’ve grown and changed. And even weirder to see how much the kids have grown and changed. I swear it was just yesterday that they were born. Then again I would’ve sworn that it was only yesterday that I got married or graduated high school…
There were so many pictures that just took me back. Friends and family that have long since passed away, friends that are still in my life today. So many people and so many memories.
Nothing puts your life into a sharper focus then looking back over your life in pictures. It reminds you of where you come from and who you are. It also reminded me of just how fast my babies are growing and that I should take time to slow down and smell the roses with them more often.
My dad took this picture when I was in elementary school. He told me to picture the woman I’d be when I was 30 and to say hi to that woman. And now here I am, 32, looking at that same picture, saying hi back to that girl I once was.
I never did scan any pictures and upload them to Facebook. Maybe tomorrow…
When I think back on my third grade teacher I remember a smile always on her face and a twinkle in her eye. Even as third graders we knew that she loved being a teacher and loved being there with us. She was kind and sweet and excited about teaching. That may have been why she was over the moon when NASA announced that they’d be sending a schoolteacher into space where she would be teaching lessons live the space shuttle. It was a big deal and all of us kids were pretty excited, but no one was more excited than our teacher.
She arranged to have a TV set up in our classroom so that we could watch the launch live as it happened. So we could watch history happen. I was sitting cross-legged on the floor of my classroom right next to my teacher as the countdown begun.
A few moments later the Challenger exploded right in front of our third grade eyes. I looked at my teacher who sat starring at the TV. The color was gone from her face and she looked over at us, her class. No one knew what to say.
At that moment a piece of my childhood innocence disappeared. I would never be able to watch a shuttle launch, or even a regular plane take off, without holding my breath. The image of that shuttle exploding in front of me would forever be a picture I would always have filed away in my brain.
I wouldn’t for a minute try to compare the Challenger Explosion with the tragedy in Haiti. There really is no comparison. But at the same time how that image affected me as a child has been on my mind lately as I wrestle with how much I should let my kids know about Haiti.
My daughter is only four, which is still pretty young to be talking about tens of thousands of victims in a horrific natural disaster. But my son, he’s six. He knows what’s going on, kind of. And we have wrestled with how much we should tell him and show him?
I don’t want to scare him. I don’t want to make a piece of his innocence disappear. But at the same time, I don’t want to shield him from human suffering like this either. Why? Because how will I ever instill the need and desire to stop human suffering like this if he doesn’t know it’s there?
I remember vividly USA for Africa being a huge presence during my childhood. Most of you will remember that signature song, We Are the World that topped the chart for months. We were inundated with pictures of starving children and families in Africa. Living in poverty with nothing. Did that steal away a piece of my innocence? Not at all. If anything my childhood innocence coupled with a strong desire to help kids across the globe gave me an almost naïve idea that I could help. That I could make a difference. And THAT idea has stayed with me my entire life. In fact, it is a part of what drives me each and every day.
So, I decided to sit with my son and watch CNN for a few minutes. It wasn’t the worst footage I’d seen of Haiti, but it was bad. I explained to him what had happened and how people were trying to help. He didn’t say anything until after a few minutes, “Mom, can we turn this off now?” I said yes. He didn’t seem very affected by it and I thought he’d simply lost interest. I shrugged and turned it off.
A few minutes later he turned on the Wii. When I walked out of the kitchen and back into the family room he was playing a game on Wii Resort sports where he flies a plane. I stood there for a moment watching him and then suddenly he said, “Mom, look there’s the island where the earthquake happened!” He pointed to one of the animated islands in the distance which he was attempting to fly his plane to. “What are you doing?” I asked, thinking he was simply turning the tragic footage I had just shown him into a game. “I’m bringing them stuff.” He answered. “Blankets, clothes and lots of food.” He said as smiled and kept his focus on the game.
My heart filled with pride. He got it. My son GOT IT. And I knew that in those few minutes of watching CNN I had planted a seed that will hopefully continue to grow and flourish as he becomes an adult. I guess deciding how much we want to explain to and show our kids about Haiti is really something that depends on the child. Sometimes, like many moments in parenting, you just have to make these decisions on the fly, like I did, and hope that somehow they get it. That sometimes life is tragic. But sometimes out those tragedies comes more heroes and sheroes and stories of strength then any of their fairy tale or superhero books ever could.
How have YOU handled talking about the situation in Haiti with your kids? Have you let them see some of the news or have you avoided it?
Text “Haiti” to 90999 to send a $10 donation to the Red Cross, through an effort backed by the U.S. State Department. Funds will go to support American Red Cross relief efforts in Haiti or simply contact the American Red Cross to find other ways you can help.
I will never be that mom who’s got it all together. I will never be the mom who remembers every little date, the gift for the teacher and the Tiger Scout meeting all on the same day. I just never will be.
I will always be the one whipping out the permission slip at the last possible moment where it is has sat crumpled and washed in the back pocket of my jeans. I am the mom who when asked for a tissue will always have one, it will just take 10 minutes of fishing through my purse to find it.
I can never go grocery shopping without forgetting at least one thing. In fact, I always count on having to go right back out again. Have I ever lied to my child that there were no more cookies, just cause I was saving the last one for myself? Sure, I’ll be honest. We’re all friends here, right?
But my kids are loved, clothed, and fed. It may have been hot dogs and macaroni & cheese, but they’re fed and they think I’m awesome…. Most of the time anyway.
It’s important to be honest about our imperfections when it comes to motherhood. Because we all have imperfections. There is no such thing as the perfect mother. All we can do is the best we can and laugh off the rest.
Any mom who appears to have it all together is just putting on a show. Somewhere beneath that cool mom exterior is a sink full of dirty dishes and a Calgon commercial waiting to happen. Just like the rest of us.
I think that’s why mom blogs and books like See Mom Run (edited by Beth Feldman, RoleMommy.com) appeal to me. I like to see the perfect mom come clean and show that she’s no better or worse than the rest of us.
So next time you’re not having one of you’re best mommy days, remember you’re not alone. And if you need reminding pick up See Mom Run and read Ciaran Blumenfeld’s “bad thai-ming” or “the secret” by Meredith Jacobs. Or any of the other hilarious essays in the book.
Just knowing that I’m not the only mom who actually has made a few mistakes on the way makes me sleep better at night. But just a little better, I mean I do have kids you know. So I don’t sleep that much…
This post was inspired by the svmoms book club book, see mom run, a collection of essays written by the world’s most harried moms and funniest women in the blogosphere. I did receive a free copy of the book but have in no other way been compensated for this post. If you want to borrow it you can, but please return it when you’re finished. If you want your own copy to keep join your own damn book club.
Ok, so I know that Supernanny would probably be here in an instant. And I know that Dr. Phil would have me shipped off to his boot camp so fast my head would probably spin. I know all this because I have worked with kids on and off since I was in high school. I have credits in Early Childhood Development and a library of books on child rearing. Including my college textbooks. So I know what I’m about to tell you is soooooo wrong.
Recently in the heat of a weak moment I did something. The house was in shambles and the kids were refusing to clean up. Not just refusing, but downright telling us NO. And in a moment of complete weakness I broke down and told them that if they didn’t start listening Evil Mommy was going to come down and make them.
That’s right. Evil Mommy. I told my children that I was the good mommy and Evil Mommy lives in the attic and would come down if she didn’t like the way they were behaving. Evil Mommy hates TV. She hates video games and toys. And she ESPECIALLY hates little boys and girls who talk back to their parents.
My kids DID NOT LIKE THIS.
Right away through sniffled tears they started cleaning. Right away I knew what I’d told them was wrong. But is it really any different than threatening to cancel Christmas by calling Santa and telling him not to come? Something I KNOW many of you have told your kids at one point or another.
And there was a kid’s book that I loved growing up that had a similar story… Miss Nelson is Missing.
So while I know that somewhere Supernanny is cringing in her sleep, part of me found some evil satisfaction in the fact that my kids suddenly were very intent on listening to me.
I know, I’m a bad mom.
I have not come clean with my kids about the Evil Mommy not really existing. But I’m no longer threatening to bring her down either. You never know, I may just need to conjure her up again someday.
So tell me, what’s the worst thing YOU’VE told your kids in order to get them to shape up?
You know 10 years of marriage can take a toll on a couple. Money, kids, work, life, well the reality is they all drift in between you like a thick winter fog rolling in off the bay. And sometimes a couple can be right next to each other but life’s fog is so thick they can’t see each other. I think every marriage has those periods.
But then, one day out of the blue you look up and the fog has cleared. For a moment you’re not mom and dad. You’re not working or running or taking care of business. You’re just that couple.
That guy and that girl that once upon time touched hands for the very first time and felt flames of destiny race through your skin. You remember what it was like to first have him lean into to you and touch his lips to yours. And you remember.
And even as the fog begins to roll back in, the kids start grabbing at your leg, the phone starts to ring, and work beckons, you look at him. And you remember that even as life’s fog rolls in and you get caught up in the madness of every day life that all you have to do is reach out and he’s there. Always.
I heard this song today and it made me close my eyes and remember how much I love my husband.
Yea, cause I’m cheesy like that.
The other day my 6 year old gets home from school and sits down to have a little snack. After a few minutes he jumps up and walks over to my desk. “Mom,” he starts, “What’s Jewish? Are we Jewish? What’s Hanukkah? Can we celebrate it?”
It was the equivalent of a parental drive-by shooting, questions flying at me like bullets. I was left frozen like a deer in the headlights as he stared up at me patiently waiting for answers.
“No honey, we’re not Jewish.” He looked at me a little puzzled then said, “Well, why not? What’s being Jewish mean?”
Instantly I pictured myself accepting the award for worst parent.
I couldn’t answer him. My first instinct was equating it with us being Irish or Native American. But I know that’s not right. Then I thought well it’s not just a nationality. Then I grasped at what I thought was a good enough answer.
“Well, it’s a religion. Kind of like Christians or Catholics. But they celebrate Hanukkah instead of Christmas.”
“Oh. Well what’s religion? Do we have one?” he asked.
Oh. My. God. I am soooooo flunking the parenting & religion thing.
But I don’t blame myself. They DID NOT have this chapter in Mr. Spock’s baby book. I’m sure of it.
In my defense, my kids know EXACTLY who Mother Nature is and never go to bed without saying goodnight to Luna (the moon). Do I get spirituality points for that at least?
So how do YOU handle these questions?
Some of you may have already read the recent article in Time Magazine regarding “Helicopter Parenting” and the many blog posts and articles that have since been written in support and to dispute the piece. Well I couldn’t help myself and had to chime in with my own question regarding the many different types of parenting that are constantly being praised and disputed these days, which is what about just plain old parenting?
Does everything we do, as parents have to have a label? It seems that as parents we can’t catch a break. No matter what we do we’re faced with someone telling us why we are wrong for doing it.
Helicopter/Overparenting
Take the whole “Helicopter Parenting” thing. So what if we hover more than previous generations? We are the same 30-year-old kids raised in the first generation of “stranger danger.” We had key words and watched some of the most high profile kidnappings in America unfold right in front of us on television. Michaela Garrett, Adam Walsh, Amber Swartz, Ilene Misheloff (I’ll take extra overprotective credit for THREE of those high profile cases being near my own community and around my own age). Of course we are careful about where our kids go and what they do.
I’m not going to apologize for being overprotective in this world. According to the World Health Organization Global cancer rates will increase by 50% by 2020. So YES, of course I’m going to be aware of what kind of chemicals are in products I’m buying and feeding my kids on. And YES I’m going to be uptight about car seats and BPA plastic filled bottles.
But is there a line? Articles like the one in Time got me thinking. OF COURSE there is a line between being protective and being extreme (doing your kids homework and stalking their coaches). I try to avoid judging other people’s parenting choices. It’s important to me that all moms, especially new moms, feel strong and secure in the choices they make that make sense for their family.
Fads in Parenting
Now I of course don’t condone moms wrapping their kids in bubble wrap and keeping them safely protected until after college graduation (though I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the idea hadn’t crossed my mind) but I urge moms to trust their instincts and ignore the fads in parenting choices.
Don’t skip out on Vaccines just because you heard someone say those vaccines are going to give your child autism. Read up first. Read about the increase in childhood diseases, read about the research that has debunked the autism studies and decide THAT WAY. Don’t decide to breastfeed or not to breastfeed based on what all your girlfriends from high school did with their kids. Make that decision based on what works for you and your baby. And unless the advice is coming from someone who actually sleeps in your house every night, ignore anyone who tells you where you and your kids should be sleeping. It’s your house, your bed, and your sleep.
And to mom’s who judge, shut up. Just because a mom chooses not to fill every waking moment with extra curricular activities doesn’t make her less of a mom than you. And hey homebody moms, just because a mom DOES take part in every volunteer event and extracurricular team sport in your city doesn’t make her an overbearing judgmental mom. So bite your lip.
Stop judging ladies and please stop making your parenting decisions based on what’s cool at the time. My God, we are the generation of feathered hair and acid wash jeans. We put Vanilla Ice at the top of the charts for God’s sake. We cannot be trusted as a group when it comes to what’s in and what’s not. So decide for yourself. Skip the biased blogs and websites, read a few medical journals. And I don’t know… ask your pediatrician maybe…
We will all have bad days as moms. We will all momentarily lose our child in a crowd and have an instant of dread. We will all yell at our child over something stupid once in a while. We all make wrong choices. So, don’t judge. Just do the best you can. And don’t be ashamed when you grab your older child’s hand in a crowd. Forgive yourself when you lose it and offer your child an extra mile of patience next time. And when you make a bad choice, learn from it and move on.
What kind of parenting style do I follow in my house? The Best–I-Can Parenting. And that’s all there really is.
There are a lot of things I enjoy about Thanksgiving. The food, the break from work or school, and of course spending time with family. But the thing I enjoy the most is the tradition Allen & began the first Christmas we spent in our own place. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving and we weren’t doing anything but sitting around. Suddenly we decided to decorate the house for Christmas. There was no one to tell us it was too early. No reason for us not too and so we did.
And that is how we’ve spent every Friday after Thanksgiving for the last 13 years. It’s how our kids have spent every Friday after Thanksgiving since they’ve been born. Now they’re old enough to look forward to it. Just as Allen and I do.
I’m especially looking forward to it this year. Despite the fact that times are tough and how exactly we’ll be paying for Christmas presents this year remains a mystery. But I know we’re not the only ones trying to solve that puzzle this year. So why am I looking forward to what’s going to surely be a financially trying Christmas for us? Well, because it’s Christmas.
No matter how hard life is, how large the pile of bills may be, or how scary trying to figure out where your next paycheck is coming from is, Christmas stays the same. On Friday we’ll be wrapping our house in the warmth of Christmas lights. We’ll have dancing Santa’s & Reindeer. We’ll drink eggnog and watch Chevy Chase. We’ll sit by a fire. Just like we do every year.
And we’ll bask in the glow of miracles, hope & magic. Because that’s the best part of Christmas. The miracle of the present and the magic of tomorrow.
So as I see the Christmas commercials begin and the radio switch to Nat King Cole I breathe a huge sigh of relief. Because if ever there was a year when we needed a little bit of Christmas, it would be this one.
I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving and gets the chance to truly enjoy the beginning of the holiday season with the people you love.
