1. You know how people say kids change you? Everything changes. I totally agreed the time I got pregnant my first month into college. Everything changed. So that sentiment was lost during my second pregnancy. Baby girl was planned, financially accounted for. I wasn’t about to embark on four years of school, and certainly not residing in a so-so apartment, living below minimum wage.  I was married, in a nice home with a decent job and on speaking terms with all immediate relatives. Totally different this time. Guess what? This kid changed me. In ways Jolie never came close to achieving. I should have seen the signs. My pregnancy with Lucia was difficult. I ached constantly. And her first hour on earth, as her own being, she screamed. And screamed. And screamed. I can’t really recall when that stopped. Or at least decreased to a few times a day as opposed to every hour. She still prefers I hold her. I promised I would never be a mom to give in. Well, I did. I began wearing my sling, plopping her inside and continuing to make dinner, or clean a room, in an attempt to soothe her. It worked. The kid can’t get enough of me.  Because she is so dependent on me, and even Brett, we rarely went out her first year. Dates are necessary—we grew apart due to work and new baby and I never want that to happen again. Ever. It’s terrible. Between baby Lucia and Jolie, it has been nearly impossible to focus on US. You know, the folks who established this little family. Days are long, and come 9:00 pm, when we sit down for the first time, we’re exhausted. I hated how this affected us. Jolie was a huge help, and still is. But she has her own issues as she becomes more independent. I’m not sure where I’m going with all of this. I certainly love my children, and I’m not apologizing for my feelings. This year sucked, and there were contributing factors outside of Lucia—granted,I was able to manipulate the others. We didn’t have sex nearly as much as I love, and I can count on one hand how many naps I’ve taken, and even less than one hand how many times I’ve been alone (not including my work commute). I was a cow. I loved nursing my daughter, but my breasts were not the same, and certainly aren’t now. This is hard for me. I struggle, because on one hand I am so thankful for the opportunity to nurse Lucia, and proud that I did so for over a year(while working full-time and co-charing a very demanding committee), but on the other hand, a part of my body was no longer mine.  Weaning Lucia was also rough. I found myself closet nursing when no one was around. Otherwise, the poor girl would following me around moaning. I caved.  Baby number 2 taught me a lot. Mostly that I cannot control everything. This is a hard lesson for me. I’m stubborn. I’m hardworking. I’m passionate. (Whispers- I also have a hard time not trying to juggle multiple things, and when parts of my life suffer, I go into complete “I am the biggest failure alive” mode). So many times I would find myself mentally listing all of my blessings. I had to. At times, this worked. Other times, the elephant on my chest would just reposition its self. But then Lucia’s first birthday came, and it was like a balloon popped, and all the anxiety and chaos I accumulated in the past 12 months dissipated. Gone. Lucia smiled so much during her party. She was happy. Everyone was happy. I was happy. The storm had settled. It was as if we crossed over an invisible line of time. Lucia Simone is unapologetically sassy and determined, and as much as these traits wear me out, I love them, too. Her curiosity for life is incredible. I love watching her explore, and how her eyes connect with mine on a level far beyond her age. She gets me. Every year I enjoy looking back and feeling completely amazed and surprised by what took place; this year so much happened. I’m still very much growing as a young professional, a mother of two and a wife. I’ve never felt so helpless as I have this year, and considering some chapters of my life, that’s saying something. I am excited for Lucia’s second year, and other big changes taking place in my life. “They” say the last mile is the hardest. This year I lived that mile…and I’m still breathing. 

    You know how people say kids change you? Everything changes. I totally agreed the time I got pregnant my first month into college. Everything changed. So that sentiment was lost during my second pregnancy. Baby girl was planned, financially accounted for. I wasn’t about to embark on four years of school, and certainly not residing in a so-so apartment, living below minimum wage.  I was married, in a nice home with a decent job and on speaking terms with all immediate relatives. Totally different this time. Guess what? This kid changed me. In ways Jolie never came close to achieving.

    I should have seen the signs. My pregnancy with Lucia was difficult. I ached constantly. And her first hour on earth, as her own being, she screamed. And screamed. And screamed. I can’t really recall when that stopped. Or at least decreased to a few times a day as opposed to every hour. She still prefers I hold her. I promised I would never be a mom to give in. Well, I did. I began wearing my sling, plopping her inside and continuing to make dinner, or clean a room, in an attempt to soothe her. It worked. The kid can’t get enough of me. 

    Because she is so dependent on me, and even Brett, we rarely went out her first year. Dates are necessary—we grew apart due to work and new baby and I never want that to happen again. Ever. It’s terrible. Between baby Lucia and Jolie, it has been nearly impossible to focus on US. You know, the folks who established this little family. Days are long, and come 9:00 pm, when we sit down for the first time, we’re exhausted. I hated how this affected us. Jolie was a huge help, and still is. But she has her own issues as she becomes more independent.

    I’m not sure where I’m going with all of this. I certainly love my children, and I’m not apologizing for my feelings. This year sucked, and there were contributing factors outside of Lucia—granted,I was able to manipulate the others. We didn’t have sex nearly as much as I love, and I can count on one hand how many naps I’ve taken, and even less than one hand how many times I’ve been alone (not including my work commute). I was a cow. I loved nursing my daughter, but my breasts were not the same, and certainly aren’t now. This is hard for me. I struggle, because on one hand I am so thankful for the opportunity to nurse Lucia, and proud that I did so for over a year(while working full-time and co-charing a very demanding committee), but on the other hand, a part of my body was no longer mine.  Weaning Lucia was also rough. I found myself closet nursing when no one was around. Otherwise, the poor girl would following me around moaning. I caved. 

    Baby number 2 taught me a lot. Mostly that I cannot control everything. This is a hard lesson for me. I’m stubborn. I’m hardworking. I’m passionate. (Whispers- I also have a hard time not trying to juggle multiple things, and when parts of my life suffer, I go into complete “I am the biggest failure alive” mode). So many times I would find myself mentally listing all of my blessings. I had to. At times, this worked. Other times, the elephant on my chest would just reposition its self. But then Lucia’s first birthday came, and it was like a balloon popped, and all the anxiety and chaos I accumulated in the past 12 months dissipated. Gone. Lucia smiled so much during her party. She was happy. Everyone was happy. I was happy. The storm had settled. It was as if we crossed over an invisible line of time.

    Lucia Simone is unapologetically sassy and determined, and as much as these traits wear me out, I love them, too. Her curiosity for life is incredible. I love watching her explore, and how her eyes connect with mine on a level far beyond her age. She gets me.

    Every year I enjoy looking back and feeling completely amazed and surprised by what took place; this year so much happened. I’m still very much growing as a young professional, a mother of two and a wife. I’ve never felt so helpless as I have this year, and considering some chapters of my life, that’s saying something. I am excited for Lucia’s second year, and other big changes taking place in my life. “They” say the last mile is the hardest. This year I lived that mile…and I’m still breathing. 

  2. Home.

    I believe the best part of a trip is the return.

    I love returning to my home. The smells. The morning light in the hallways. My lazy cat. And of course my husband. I missed that man: his hands, lips and other things. I always feel at home with his arms around me, pressing me into his side and kissing my head.

    When I pulled up Jolie ran to greet me on the front porch, barefoot in a sundress. She would wear a sundress every day if possible. She looked as lovely as I had left her. As independent as she is, she missed her mama. She called one night at bedtime, with the saddest of sad voices, pleading for me to come home for her “hug n’kiss.” She wanted me to give her a hug and kiss. She typically is fine when away from home, so the thought of her needing me left the worst taste in my mouth. I haven’t been away this long for quite a while. Last night we resumed with one of her Junie B. Jones chapter books before bedtime, and of course her hug n’kiss.

    My travel mates to the conference bought Jolie Jasmine accessories. We stayed at the Hilton on Walt Disney properties. Jolie immediately put everything on and kept her swag on all day and night, even at a picnic for my brother’s college graduation. Sweat pouring from her hairline, she hid behind skinny trees from family she had convinced, with little effort, to play hide-n-go -seek. All the while her plastic beaded earrings with Princess Jasmine’s face on them adorned her little ears. We called her Magdela. It seemed fitting.

    While I was gone Brett and Jolie stayed busy with life. Saturday they went shopping to surprise me with this.

    Baby girl’s crib.

    It’s exactly what I had in mind, classic and simple. Brett had found one online a couple of weeks ago and sent me pics. He bought a similar one, at an affordable price, at the Baby Depot (a part of the Burlington Coat Factory).He also bought a changing pad for the top of an antique baby chiffarobe, (or “fisharobe,” as Jolie calls hers), we acquired from my great grandmother. My husband is an amazing dad and husband. Seriously. We were thrown into this parenting thing at such a young age, but his dedication and absolute love for his children energizes me and my love of life.

    I had a great,productive conference. But when all is said and done, there is no place like home.

  3. »  "Surprisingly, Family Time Has Grown" (Hedonic Marriages are the new Pink of our generation.)

    One of the classes I presented to last week requires that each student presents one “newsworthy article” from a valid news source that must relate to the student presenting the article. The student takes a couple of minutes at the beginning of class to offer up the abstract and how this relates to them.

    During my time there a student selected an article from the New York Times. She explained that she selected the article based on the fact that it reflected what I taught them in our program about how Boys/Girls and Men/Women are negatively affected by gender stereotyping in our society. More specifically, how gender stereotyping creates a barrier for equality in a healthy relationship.

    Blushing, I attentively listened to her description of the article.

    I went home and searched for the NY Times article and was surprised to find that I was able to access the entire article, not just the abstract, so I wanted to share it with all of you!

    Not only did it apply to the program, but I could relate to it on a personal level. I’m sure many mommy/daddy bloggers can relate to this article, especially if your circumstances find you juggling family, love, work and social life. The past couple of generations are vastly different from Grandma and Grandpa’s generation, particularly in the family dynamic area. Mom isn’t holding a whisk. She’s holding baby in one arm, blackberry in the other. And daddy has diaper duty.

    Even though I feel confident that my marriage is absolutely equal, I will admit, going through college while working, running an organization and taking care of baby, I (at times) felt like I wasn’t being the best “mom.” Maybe it isn’t even that I felt I was a mom-failure as much as I felt I was being judged as such. I think we all feel this way at times thanks to societal pressure.

    I remember Jolie and her personal case of the “terrible two’s.” I was on the phone one afternoon describing her behavior to my grandpa and how I couldn’t believe such a small person could be capable of acting out the way she was, seeing as our earthly influences on her began a mere two years prior. His response, essentially, was that he finds the household dynamic “these days” to be the reason for this behavior. He indirectly spoke on how during his child rearing years a parent (he carefully chose his words) stayed home and, consequently, the parent’s full-time presence positively impacted the child and their needs. OUCH. He basically told me my hard-work ethic, goals and parenting were not being executed in an effective way, and I needed to balance my life to center completely around my child. My current life choices were bad ones.  I never forgot this conversation.

    This article reinforced my confidence in my life-altering decisions. Every family dynamic is different, and it should be your choice how you run your household. I think in our house Jolie has positively benefited from a daycare that promotes socializing and learning, while mom and dad have continued their education and focused on personal career goals. We have dinner as a family, without TV, and spend the evening doing family things, as well as the weekends. This is our life and it works for us.

    This article totally scored brownie points with me. Equality = Positive Family Dynamic.

  4. Last night while watching TV a commercial for Bisquick or some type of pancake brand came on. Like portrayed many times before it showed a refreshed mommy whipping up pancakes in a sun-filled kitchen, and yelling up to her sleeping children that breakfast is ready. Jolie liked the commercial. Jolie: (amused) I want you to do that,mom. Me: You want me to do what? Jolie: (still very amused and smiling) I want you to yell to me that breakfast is ready when i’m sleeping like the mom in the commercial. Me: (realizing what she’s truly wanting. sharing revelation with my husband) She’s saying that she wants me to get up extremely early and make breakfast before she wakes up because she is usually up in her room playing a good thirty minutes before either of us are up, and has to eventually come in to ask us to feed her. Now I feel like we’re assholes.But we’re never going to do that. She will always get up before us. damn society and its ideals.

    Last night while watching TV a commercial for Bisquick or some type of pancake brand came on. Like portrayed many times before it showed a refreshed mommy whipping up pancakes in a sun-filled kitchen, and yelling up to her sleeping children that breakfast is ready. Jolie liked the commercial.

    Jolie: (amused) I want you to do that,mom.

    Me: You want me to do what?

    Jolie: (still very amused and smiling) I want you to yell to me that breakfast is ready when i’m sleeping like the mom in the commercial.

    Me: (realizing what she’s truly wanting. sharing revelation with my husband) She’s saying that she wants me to get up extremely early and make breakfast before she wakes up because she is usually up in her room playing a good thirty minutes before either of us are up, and has to eventually come in to ask us to feed her. Now I feel like we’re assholes.But we’re never going to do that. She will always get up before us.

    damn society and its ideals.

  5. Parents vs Products

    Last weekend I went baby shower registering with my cousin. This is her first baby and she asked that me and another cousin, both mommy’s, accompany her because she was super overwhelmed. I have to admit that I don’t really like showers and registering all that much, but I do like my cousin pretty well so I didn’t mind and was excited for her.

    We began at Babies “R” Us. I have not stepped foot in this store since I registered myself over five years ago. I don’t like it. It’s too much, too overwhelming. We sat at a desk where my cousin gave a sale’s associate her information: baby’s gender, father’s name, due date..yada yada. And then she handed over the scan gun. That heavy piece of plastic intimidates me. My other cousin, whose daughter just turned one a few months back, took the lead. She has newborn products and doctor recommendations fresh in her mind. Where as I on the other hand had never seen so many new options for bottles and monitors in my life.

    By the end of our trip it was clear that new parents over buy for their little bundles of joy.

    My cousin ended up registering for bottles that cost $45 for 3 because it was free of some sort of acid, and apparently made it easier to transition from nursing to bottle feeding. My bottles didn’t cost nearly that much and Jolie transitioned just fine, and we have yet to see the side effects of any acids from her bottles (or perhaps that’s where she gets her sarcasm from…the acid). They had rows of pampers, which has definitely worked its ad dollars, making it a US household staple, when in reality it’s no different than other diapers except for cost. But choosy moms, choose pampers. And then there were play mats. An entire wall of various mats decorated with stuffed animals and long cotton arms overlapping to form arches over the model baby’s head. There was so much going on on these brightly colored mats that I nearly had a panic attack. Save $70, yes, $70 bucks, and throw down a nice blanket and some tinker toys. The kid isn’t going to know the difference. I could go on and on. The are so many new inventions on the market, like those boppy chairs that allow infants to sit up right in a circular piece of plastic that provides back support for growing baby. It’s absolutely ridiculous when there were already 10 other kinds of chairs and contraptions for baby. I don’t remember these when Jolie was an infant.

    By the end of our trip I was as overwhelmed as my cousin, and thinking irrationally. I began questioning my child’s upbringing. Should I have splurged on diapers that are supposedly better for a baby’s butt? Should I have gotten a baby monitor with a screen to watch my child sleep (instead of just checking in her room)? My cousin heard that some mother on TV or something had an overpriced monitor with screen that ended up saving her child’s life because the child was puking and she couldn’t hear her baby, but she could SEE what was happening because of the screen. That’s pure genius marketing right there: If you don’t get this, your baby will swallow it’s puke and die. Do the right thing, Mom.

    Jolie didn’t have nearly all of these contraptions and she did just fine. Why? Because she had parents. I won’t act completely unaffected by the industry’s pull. I subscribed to lots of baby magazines and internet sites when I was pregnant with my first. Only to find that I didn’t  gain anything from the articles and product reviews. Jolie never swallowed her/his own puke alone in their crib, or showed delay in developing motor skills without the aid of a boppy. Fingers crossed, we make it through just being parents.

    rant over.

About me

{instances from married life, child rearing
and old-home renovations}