Chicago Mama Spot

Dads

My sister's husband's (so, my brother-in-law) father died last week.  Friday was the funeral and since he's Jewish, a Shiva followed and continued Saturday and Sunday.  His father had pancreatic cancer and actually lived fairly comfortably much longer than anyone expected.  He was diagnosed almost two years ago.  It's a happy/sad when it happens like that - he did well for so long that it seemed like he could keep beating it, but at least everyone had time to say and do everything they wanted.

I haven't been to many funerals or burials.  It was very sad, but also parts were just so strange - well mainly the burial.  It took place in a huge cemetary just outside of Chicago.  Throughout the burial service, a group of men in work clothes stood in the background because they were the ones that had to lower him into the ground.  The contraption that they used to lower him looked like something out of a scary, science fiction movie.  It was just such a strange juxtaposition.  On the one side, there were the mourners going through something very personal and intimate.  On the other, was cold, steel machinery and cemetary workers who saw it as just another part of the job. 

It was a very nice service.  Funerals, weddings, baby showers, they all make me reflect on my life. It's funny because it's only recently that I realized that it would be harder for me to lose Daddy-O than anyone else (besides Sweet Pea - she's not even in the same ballpark).  I am so close to my mom and sister that they've always kind of trumped everyone else.

The sad thing is that even though my dad was there on Friday, I never really thought about losing him. You'd think I would since it was my brother-in-law's dad, but it was only after it was over that I realized I hadn't thought about him.

I'm not very close with my dad.  I think he would say we are which makes me sad.  My parents were separated when we were pretty young.  I was in second grade.  My dad met my step-mother when my sister was just a year old.  So let's just say, he wasn't super involved with us.  He tries now, but he's a pretty selfish person and doesn't really treat us like adults.  He expects every one to drop everything the second he decides to visit.  For some reason, I just don't feel like I want to expend a ton of energy trying to make things great. It's not that we don't get along, there just isn't a lot of closeness. 

It seems like a lot of children of divorce that I know only stay close to one parent.  My parents stayed friends after the divorce. They still have a group of friends in common, so they even see each other socially sometimes.  I talk to my mom all the time and she knows most of my problems.  I can't even imagine talking to my dad about anything other than surface stuff - kids, weather, what's going on in my hometown. 

I hope I don't regret not working hard on our relationship. I just don't know that it would make much of a difference and as sad as that makes me, I need to spend time in my life on my most important relationships.

The only thing that gives me pause is thinking that I might be setting a bad example for Sweet Pea.  I want her to be able to tell Daddy-O anything and to feel as close to him as she does to me. 

Why am I always running behind?

Being ADD, my whole life I've been running late.  The ironic thing is that I hate to be late.  Sometimes, I'll even skip going somewhere if I'm late just because I hate to walk in after everyone else. 

Since Sweet Pea has become a toddler, I've entered a whole new realm of lateness.  Not just when I'm going somewhere, all the time.  I'm perpetually behind.  I've read that people with ADD have a hard time estimating how long things will take.  That does seem to be one of my problems. 

I am continually underestimating how long everything will take with a toddler  a) hanging off my limbs b) destroying the house c) becoming so obsessed with something that tearing her away causes a hysterical breakdown d) freaking out about whatever I'm doing (drying my hair) e) all of the above.

Easter Sunday was a perfect example.  I love the concept of entertaining, but I'm always coming up with some huge plan for the menu, the table, the gifts, etc.  This usually means that I end up stressed out and not having any fun at my own gathering.  So, this time I decided that I wasn't going to go that route.  I decided on a brunch casserole that I could mostly make the night before, asked my MIL to bring fruit salad and came up with a few other side dishes that were easy and could be put in the oven instead of made on the stove.  Plus, we have a warming drawer in the new house, so I figured I could handle any timing problems. 

Ha ha ha.  Sweet Pea slept in.  So, of course, I did too.  I woke up with only a few hours to finish cooking, clean the house and shower. Daddy-O's parents arrived and I still had so much to do.  Luckily, I had showered and Sweet Pea was dressed.

Thank god Daddy-O was back from his golf trip.  He did most of the cleaning.  He had his first taste of how truly close I feel to the neighbor's house.  He was vacuuming all the dog hair off the couch and looked up to see our neighbors and some friends on the couch.  Not really the impression he wanted to give the husband.  I think I've mentioned that Daddy-O is kind of a guy's guy, not really a vacuum guy. 

As soon as his parents walked in the door, Sweet Pea started crying and wouldn't let me put her down.  She was hysterical.  I think she thought I was leaving since Papa babysits her every Monday and I leave.  Finally, she let Daddy-O hold her. 

I have to say, I triumphed over my disorganization.  Or at least, the entire bottle of Champagne that I served myself helped me feel like I did.  Besides the paper napkins that didn't match anything on the table, brunch was great. 

For the first time in a while, we had an easy, relaxing time with Daddy-O's parents.  They even called today to say what a nice time that had.   Note to self:  Remember this and just let go of the need for perfection when we have people over.  It's so much more enjoyable for everyone when I just go with the flow.

What's a Mama to do when Daddy-O takes charge. . .

I've been following Rebel Dad's many posts about the mommy wars.  I don't know any SAHDs, but I've really enjoyed reading his perspective.  One of the things that seems to irk Rebel Dad is that many of the authors and news media discussing this "war," either fail to mention dads or act like dads are helpless and bumbling. 

It bugs me too.  Most of my friends are married and we all have funny and/or scary stories about things our husbands have done - parenting, grocery shopping, electronics, laundry - great fodder for girls' night.  But, let me tell you, if I were to suddenly be thrust into Daddy-O's place of work without much information and no hands on experience, I can't imagine the stories they'd tell.  It's tough to step into someone else's role.  You don't know the flow, the set-up, you haven't made the mistakes that lead you to know (kind of) what you're doing.  It's like that in any job and really, in most tasks.  When I visit my mom and she sends me to the grocery store to do her shopping, her list seems cryptic and generic and I spend way too long trying to get exactly what she wants.  It's not that I don't know how to grocery shop, I just haven't done her shopping before.

Okay, enough belaboring of that point.  On to why I really started talking about all this . . .

I am the envy of all my mom friends.  Why?  Sleep. Sleep. CNN. Long Showers.

My fabulous Daddy-O gets up most mornings with Sweet Pea.  He gets her up, changes her diaper, plays with her and then feeds her.  What am I doing?  What else?  Sleeping, taking a long shower  and blow drying my hair without a toddler appendage hooked on to my leg, or relaxing in bed watching CNN or lately, CNBC.  When he has to go to work, they both come giggling upstairs to get me.  It is heaven - for me and I think, for him.  The other night, he actually told me that he had to go to bed early so he could get up early with her. 

Now, I am married to more of the guy's guy type.  I am not kidding when I say that Daddy-O could count the number of diapers he changed the first year on ONE hand. 

No more.  The amount of enjoyment and fun he has with Sweet Pea is directly correlated to all the time he has spent ALONE with her.  It's a different ballgame when you have to make decisions, organize the schedule, and take care of things without anyone hovering over you telling you how she does it.  Yesterday, I was enjoying my new morning ritual and Daddy-O's cell phone started ringing.  He left it on his nightstand.  What to do?  I wanted to stay in bed, but he needed to get his phone.  Once Sweet Pea sees me, it's tough going back to bed.  So, I snuck down to the basement and this was what I saw:  toys scattered, Sweet Pea's onsie haging out of her PJs, Dora blasting from the TV and Sweet Pea and Daddy-O putting on his little practice putting green.  They were both giggling so hard that they didn't hear me come down.  I whispered to Daddy-O and made the handoff without Sweet Pea even seeing me.  I was kind of sad to go back upstairs and leave all the fun.

Daddy-O isn't a SAHD, but now he's had practice taking care of a toddler.  He's made some mistakes and he doesn't always do things the way I would.  But, he's good at being a dad.  And, being a good dad has made him an even better husband.  Sweet Pea is just as likely to go to him now when she needs something as she is to come to me.

Yesterday, Sweet Pea became obsessed with plums.  She must have eaten two whole plums and I mean every last little bit off of the pit.  You know what plums do to the old digestive tract?  Sweet Pea  - blowout - you get the picture.  I'm thrilled to say that Daddy-O changed that diaper this morning without even considering coming to get me to do the dirty work. 

My new favorite thing to do in the morning:  Using the monitor to eavesdrop on Daddy-O getting Sweet Pea up.   

True Confessions

I am once again up until the wee hours of the morning.  I've been working on all of our tax stuff.  Yuck.   But, before I go to bed I have a few confessions ---

I stink at changing diapers.  I have finally decided to admit it,   I just don't have smooth moves like so many other moms I know.  At this point, I've changed enough diapers to be able to pretty conclusively say that it's just not something I'm going to master.  I can never get a good grip on Sweet Pea's legs, I'm constantly brushing the back of my hand against the dirty stuff, I go through wipes by the hundreds.  How can I have changed so many diapers and not be a pro?  I remember at one point discussing it with my sister when Sweet Pea was still a little baby.  She told me, well maybe it's just not something you're good at - it was a little irritating at the time.  What mom wants to be a crummy diaper changer?  But, I think she was right. 

Potty training can't come soon enough!

I have a deep dislike of mealtime.  There, I said it.

Sweet Pea likes almost nothing.  The only meat she'll eat is hot dog (is that meat?) and occassionally pork.  At least I give her the organic hot dogs so I'm not giving her cancer from the nitrates.  I know it's just a toddler phase and that eventually, she'll start eating again.  But, I am running out of things to make for her NOT to eat.  Here's what she will eat:  Yogurt, blueberries, sometimes other fruit, sometimes pasta, mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes, graham crackers, hmmmm. . . that's about everything she likes.  Her list of dislikes is everything else including all meat, bananas (she used to love them!), most vegetables (again, she used to love all vegetables, especially broccoli which she now spits out), eggs . . . well, just everything.  My doctor says all you can do is give her healthy food to eat and it's up to her if she eats it.  Great, but I'd like to at least be able to offer her things she likes.  Since she doesn't like meat, even when I do cook a meal for me and Daddy-O, I have to make her something different.  I throw away so much food.  She must be getting enough somehow because she has that little belly, but toddler cannot live on Fruit Snacks and Milk alone!

I feel better now that I've admitted my problems.  It should help me sleep.  If only I can get the Max and Ruby song out of my head!

Why don't you go outside and play?

"Mom, we're bored!!" 

"Why don't you go outside and play."

How many times did we, and so many other kids, have this same conversation with our moms?

And, we did go play.  In my case, we rode bikes around the neighborhood, played in the creek near our house, played tennis over the boulevard in the middle of the street.  Near the creek there was a little grassy area surrounded by trees that we thought was a hideout for fairies (the magical kind).  We called it the Fairy Circle. 

We lived a block away from a pretty busy street, but we didn't cross it too much.  From the busy street to the cul-de-sac 4 blocks away, we knew every kid in the neighborhood.  Not only that, but we knew the crazy old lady across the street, the old bachelor lawyers at the end of the block and the mean high school girl who once sprayed us with her garden hose (I'm sure we were doing something irritating).   

My step-dad, who is a farmer, has sent me several links and articles about nature-deficit disorder.   If you haven't already heard about this book, the author's theory is that kids today are disconnected from nature and that this impacts a wide range of things from weight to A.D.D. to imagination and creativity. 

I'm really drawn to the whole theory.  Maybe, it's just nostalgia; that I want G to grow up more like I did.  But, I think it's more than that.  I really want to get past the fear I have of exposing G to this scary world and let her be a kid.

In an article in Salon, the author, talks about his experiences growing up.

One factor is just frequency of movement -- it's one thing to go to soccer practice once a week, or even three times a week -- compared to the way kids used to come home from school and just head out. Sometimes I played free-form pick-up baseball, but most of the time, I was just gone, in the woods, and I was moving, I was racing my collie. That was constant.

The author, Richard Louv, is a columnist for the San Diego Union Tribune.  He regularly writes about the value of nature to kids and adults.  One of his articles referred to a comment an 8-year old boy made to Maria  Montessori, founder of the Montessori school movement. 

The boy said, “I would give anything to be able, one night, to see the stars.” He had heard the stars being discussed by adults, but had never seen them.

“His parents thought it necessary not to allow the child to stay up a single evening on any pretext whatever,” Montessori wrote, adding that such well-meaning concern “has made the world neurotic.”

Am I neurotic?  I want to let G do things like walk to school and play outside without me hovering around.  But, then the fear takes over.  It's not all paranoia.  I mean, someone was shot and killed across the street from our house.  Even though he was a gang member and it happened at night, it's still scary. 

But, I think part of me is just neurotic.  The statistics show that violence against children has gone down.  It just feels like evil is lurking around every corner just waiting to get G.  There is so much media coverage of every bad thing that happens to a child, it's hard to believe that G is safer now.

I know G won't have the same childhood that I had.  The world has changed and living in a big city is different than living in a medium sized town.   One of the things that Richard Louv talks about is how nature isn't necessarily big open fields.  In different settings, nature looks different.  Chicago has Lake Michigan and so many parks.  Plus, hopefully, G will spend lots of time with her Nana, my mom, on the farm fishing and riding around in the tractor.

So, I think we can and will expose G to nature.  The harder part for me is letting go, so that she finds the nature on her own and around the neighborhood. 

I hope I'm brave enough to let her find her own Fairy Circle. 

(I might need to find a hiding place nearby to make sure she's ok!)

Seeing into the future . . .

One year, when I was probably 9 or 10,  my mom and her best friend drove straight through from Illinois to Wyoming with 4 kids and a huge German Shepard.   We spent the whole time in the back of the station wagon (yes, it was paneled) along with the dog and I doubt either mom thought twice about it. 

Can you imagine now seeing us pressed up against the rear window of a station wagon, pumping our arms in the "honk" sign to passing semis?   Or, how about another one of my childhood travel favorites - covering the backseat floor with pillows and convincing my sister to lay down there so I have the whole seat.

No, now road trips are taken in big SUVs or mini-vans.  Every kid strapped into a car seat or booster, watching DVDs.  No, now Brittany driving with her baby out of the car seat makes international news. 

It seems so crazy to us that parents didn't think that it might be better to strap us in.  Even crazier, that some cars didn't even have seatbelts.

Before my sister and I had our babies, my mom used to say that she just wasn't a baby person.  Her proof was that when I was a baby, she took showers until the water was freezing to drown out my sobbing (I was a BIG cryer as a baby, apparently).  She just couldn't take it.  My pediatrician told her that she shouldn't pick me up when I cried or I'd turn out selfish and spoiled.  He also told her stick to a strict feeding schedule regardless of how hungry I seemed.  No wonder I was always crying! Even though my mom was kind of a liberal hippy chick, she still wasn't about to question the doctor, especially about something she knew nothing about.

For 35 years, she thought she wasn't a baby person.  It never occured to her that she had just gotten advice that didn't really work for her.  You can't really say it was bad advice, it was just what people did then.  (Luckily, Nana is a pretty much a rock star to G and her cousin and they've more than convinced her that she's a baby person.)

Can you imagine a doctor today telling us not to pick up a crying baby? 

Thinking about these things made me wonder what I'm doing now or will do as a mom that G will look back on in twenty-five years and say "Was she crazy?  Did no one think that through?"   

Of course, I want to say nothing will be glaring.  Mistakes here and there, but nothing critical.  Like most moms in my generation, I've read hundreds of books, done endless research online, discussed babies and parenting in mom's groups and playgroups, taken classes, read blogs. I've made "informed" choices on everything from sleep training to the best stroller.  I should be the best mommy ever!   That crazy stuff happened back in those other generations.  They hadn't done the research and didn't have the resources to be able to see the consequences of what they were doing.

But now, I mean, how far off can we be? 

Then, I think about how I looked at my first real job interview.  I felt so put together.  I picked out a suit - a classic, made to last for years.  Something, that would wear time well.  My hair wasn't too trendy, but it was pretty stylish for the time.  Just the right shoes.  I imagined myself looking pretty much the same, but slightly older for the rest of my life. 

Ha ha, that suit would be so awful now.  My hair, the shoes, so 80s. 

Hopefully, I won't be that far off raising G. 

If she's not cussing, she's shoving . . .

In addition to having a potty mouth, G is a shover.  I can't believe my sweet, little thing is a shover.  The first time it happened, I thought "she's just feeling a little claustrophobic."  A few days later at her music class, this sweet little girl came up to her to hug and kiss her and boom, G laid her out!  Knocked her right down.  So, I think it's time to just accept the facts . . . Don't touch my girl!

So, what do you do?  As we move into toddler-hood, there is a whole new set of rules I don't know the first thing about. 

I remember my sister talking about not knowing the rules of a particular park.  And she wasn't talking about the posted rules, she was talking about the "Mommy Rules."  Those little unstated social rules that shape any situation.  It's especially tough to get a read on a bunch of tired, overworked mamas trying to protect the things they hold most dear - their perfect babies. 

I have to admit I'm a little frightened of the warmer weather for just this reason.  Thank god for the new swing set.  I can make my own rules there.  I can manage the size of the kids there.  I can BAN people. 

I'll have to take her outside of our yard though.  It's not really fair to make her just play with me. 

But, what do you do at the park with all those BIG kids??  Can you tell other people's kids to lay off of yours?  I have no idea how tough G is.  She hasn't really been in situations where she's tested that way.  She kind of goes off on her own when we're in class.  The shoving thing was my first indication that maybe she'll be better at taking care of herself than I was.  I hope so.  I was always afraid of the big kids. 

Oh $#%&*@ (I told you I didn't cuss much), another thought . . . what if she's the bully.  I can't even think about that, it's so terrifying and potentially, so-o-o embarrassing. 

When I was training my dog, Charlie, the trainer let the dogs have open play and inevitably, we would want to step in and manage the dogs.  She wouldn't let us.  She said they figured things out on their own and stepping in was confusing.  It kept them from learning what to do.  She always put a bitchy mama dog in with the puppies so that they would learn that it is rude to get up in another dog's business without being invited.  Playing without us getting in the way helped them figure out the doggie rules. 

I have a feeling the Mommy Rules are going to be a little more complex. 

How do you know when to step in with kids?  And what if your style is to let them work it out, but the uptight mama next to you wants to micromanage your baby?  What if your style is to let them work it out, but one kid is just trying your patience?

I'm thinking I'll start out at a park far away from our neighborhood so I can get the gist of the rules.  I can alienate those moms and just cross my fingers they never move to my neighborhood. 

After G and I have it down, we can move to a park in our neighborhood.  The neighborhood moms will be so impressed at how smoothly we move into the park social circle.  I can just hear them "How did she learn our rules so fast?"  Before you know it, I'll be giving the latest new mom to hit the park the "that's not how we do it in our park" look. 

I know, I know, G will be used to the other park, so we'll have to start all over.   My little popular mama fantasy will never work. 

I think we made it through our first "issue" okay.  I helped the little girl G knocked over up and apologized to her parents.  Everyone seemed happy. 

I did have this tiny little voice in my head directed at her parents, "Why don't you teach your daughter to give people some space, especially with that runny nose?"

Thankfully, I edited my overprotective self and kept my mouth shut!

One down, a million to go.

Discovering G

One of my favorite parts of being a mom is figuring out who G is.  When it's just the two of us or the three of us, I only get to see one little part of her.  It is so - (I can't even find the right adjective) interesting, amazing, wonderful, mind boggling - to see who she is when she is in other situations.  She is becoming the person, she'll be.  Years from now, I will be able to look back and remember the beginnings of her.  Sometimes when I look at her at times like this, I feel like my heart is going to explode with all the feelings I have for her.  It's just amazing that a year and a half ago, I hardly knew her.  She was just a little bump.  Who knew? 

We went to a class today at Bubbles Academy, kind of a bigger, badder Gymboree.  It's a great place started by parents and you can tell.  You can do as many make-ups as you need to and if you take a class in the next session, your make-ups roll over.  Also, you can do a make-up in any age appropriate class.  It's a little expensive, but fun.   Their main room is huge and mural-y with lots of hanging butterflies and stars.  They have some great pictures on their site. 

We went with my mom, my sister and my 3 year-old niece.  The class is a family class, so it's all ages - mainly 1 - 5.  G usually starts up a little slowly and always does her own thing, but watching her take in the world . . . True love.  I love being her mama.