Wrapped with love

My daughter has blankets. Many blankets. Many homemade blankets.

Each was made for her with love. Although it would be fantastic to pass them down to her in pristine condition when she prepares to have a child of her own, I am of the belief that those blankets were made to be used. Lovingly and carefully used.

I'm still pulling blankets from her closet as needs arise (or laundry piles) and introducing her to yet another design and texture. My goal from the get-go was to not get her attached to one, single blanket. This is because her blankets are one-of-a-kind, a dirty or misplaced or (heaven forbid) ruined are not easily cloned by a backup. She has her favorites, but I offer one for only as long as one week before giving her another to snuggle as she sleeps.

The other night, she was given a choice between two blankets. She pulled both up to her cheeks, and selected the softest of the two. The blanket of choice was an afghan nearly as long as I am tall. It is approximately 1/2 inch think. It was 75 degrees in the house with the air conditioner running.

She chose it, so she got to keep it.

We curled up in the recliner as per our bedtime routine. As she nursed, the blanket was wrapped partially around her and mostly draped over me. It is incredibly soft. Made just for her. Every inch of yard woven into a unique, personal hug. The most interesting part of it is that the blanket was made for her over two decades ago.

MY great grandmother had crocheted it - and passed it on to be stored for my baby. The feather soft yarn reminds me of her lose snow white curls, her demeanor, her heart.

My memories of my great grandmother have a sepia patina. I remember her making quilts. I remember her bright blue itchy carpet and her serving Hawaiian punch in juice boxes. My last memory of her is at my grandma's. I stood beside her in a half-hug as she complimented my panda patterned shirt. She asked if she could have it when I out grew it to use in a quilt. I agreed. I remember feeling guilty when I outgrew the shirt because she was no longer alive to cut it into perfect squares to incorporate into one of her signature throws.

I knew nothing of this afghan until my baby shower early last fall. I received it and a card from my grandma. Tears flowed.

I sat, sweating, wrapped in a hug from a woman I adored with my sleeping daughter. Happy. Loved.

The first step is admitting you have a problem...and then bitching about it

I have come to the conclusion that I'm not perfect.

*crowd gasps*

I cannot do it all.

I've spent the last 9 months (after a mere 3 weeks maternity leave) playing the part of full time mom and working full time (=40 hours) from home being a data analyst. What job requires full attention and NOT screaming/crying/spitting up/crawling/getting into everything baby? Data analyst.

Commence series of panic attacks.

I found a babysitter a few months back, and only wanted to partially relinquish my super mom do-it-all duties and have her gone a couple days a week. Well, after 2 months, she's only been to the sitter a handful of times.

Panic panic panic panic.

This week was our first week at daycare. She's only gone in the mornings for 3 days a week.

Breathing.

She's cheery when we get in the car to go.

Heart rate dropping.

She plays and learns to SHARE while I am accomplishing work tasks.

Except when I'm blogging about it... bloody hell.

In all, I'm happier because she's being cared for instead of partially ignored. I tried my best to do it all - but everything was coming out half-baked. I was not doing well at work. The house was constantly trashed. And I felt guilty for having a computer screen between my daughter and I all the time.

Happily opening a new chapter - and I'm not going to feel guilty about having someone else watch my kid.

I'm just not gonna.

lotion versus gel - a much needed clarification

This is a public service announcement to explain the similarities and differences between suntan lotion and after sun relief gel.

Suntan lotion: please help me put it on my back - evenly and streak free, preferably. A little pressure and massaging is a plus. If intentions of said massaging are to lead to action - you'd better offer to apply before I wrestle myself into my bulge restricting girdle suit.

After sun relief gel: An aloe product is helpful at relieving sun burn related discomfort. Please help me apply because I can no longer raise my arms. Added pressure is a no-no (uh, I've got a sunburn...thanks). Not to be used as foreplay - even though I'm a hottie and you've been watching me try to secretly hide leg jiggles and stretch marks in my girdle suit all day with conveniently placed towels, beach bags and children. You should have preemptively struck with suntan lotion earlier in the day.

Happy summer!

Both hands, Daddy, both hands!

Getting kids to have real, tactile experiences is a challenge these days. For God’s sake Lego’s aren’t an open-ended toy of parent-crippling potential anymore. No one is even chipping teeth trying to get the flat pieces unstuck because you can play Lego’s on your video games now. (BTW, these games are SUPER cute, and I love them to death…but seriously Lego’s used to be an expression of art and creativity and ingenuity not the way for one to get in touch with The Dark Side!)

I took my daughter to a State Park that we are fortunate to have just a couple miles down the road from our house. We don’t get there nearly as much as I had hoped, but our annual pass makes visiting spontaneously a cheap and easy option. I decided to take her over there for a quick walk in the stroller, a baby picnic, and to swing on the playground. When we arrived, I discovered much to my chagrin that neither of the two swings on the tiny playground was baby-friendly. One of the traditional black rubber swings was occupied by a boy about 7 years old. His father was pushing him from behind. Since I’m not doing the balance the 9 month old on my lap and swing one-armed routine with a kid beside me demanding to be pushed higher and higher, we strolled around and past the playground on the trail. I wanted to give the man and his son some space. We were in no hurry.

“Both hands, Daddy, use both hands!” the boy exclaimed to his father. I realized that his dad was reading a message on his phone while pushing his son. “Dad, push with both hands!”

The child was begging, nay yelling, for his dad to stop his distraction and pay full attention. The father refused, “I’m doing something on my phone.”

I was heartbroken! They were in the middle of a beautiful park – just the two of them – on a holiday weekend and this boy’s dad couldn’t put down his phone to have a solid moment with his boy. For the record, cell reception blows goats in that area so if he was waiting for his email to receive he’d be waiting a long time.

It can be very hard to unplug. Whether to stop checking work email, updating on Facebook, or accessing the internet to check the radar every 45 seconds. I found it much easier when I ditched internet access on my phone, but for some that simply isn’t an option.

While nonstop internet access has increased the ability to contact hundreds of people from your past that you quite possibly never make contact with again and to work remotely, it’s coincidentally interfering with making the connections with the people in our lives now. Yes, the work/home life struggle is not new, but it is harder to make the decision to turn work “off” and turn our attention to other aspects of life.

Seriously, the world won’t end if you don’t check your email every minute, and the bully from second grade turned social butterfly who friended everyone in our class can wait an hour before she knows that we played on a swingset today.

It is up to us to make the decision to unplug and make a priority of those around us. It’s not enough to kick the kids outside and make them unplug. We must lead by example. If Oprah is so hot and bothered about people texting and driving, she should also pick up the torch against texting and parenting. Steering the kids to keep them safe enough not to get hurt is like saying that steering a car to keep them between the white lines is enough. Kids need to have the full attention of their adults – especially when you are “on vacation.” Marriages need the full attention of both parties.

They need to learn that there is a time for work and a time for play – and that they are worth your time – at least some of that time.

Thank you, little boy on the swingset, I hope you got the 2-handed underdog you wanted so badly.

*Stepping down from my cyber soap box to unplug for the remainder of the weekend.*

I'm in the fondue pot of life

Sometimes the best of us fall down. Hard. So many women are dealing with the struggle to balance work, motherhood, money, love life, housework...and on and on. Just at the moment when you think you've got it under control Mr. Murphy rears his ugly head and knocks you down.

Not always in large ways - lost job, struggling marriage - but in a pile of teeny tiny ways. Overdraft fee here, missed work deadline there, sick baby and sleepless night over here. It's like little pebbles getting dropped in to a pond - one at a time. You can slough off the stress of each pebble as they come - until you look down and see the mound of tiny pebbles that is emerging from the once clear water.

Of course, the mountain is hard to clear away when the simple thought of it makes you want to climb under the covers and hide.

Let's just say that the sun tan lotion isn't the only thing that has been melting down in this house.



My hope for you this holiday weekend is that you each find a way get a moment to do some chipping away at the pile of pebbles before they break the surface of the water. Clear out the bill box, tidy the house before it's trashed, plan a simple playtime with the kids, have a sweet moment with your love during the fireworks this weekend. Commit to one thing - and get it done. Then move on to the next.

Even Super Momma's get blindsided by responsibility. Take a breath - ASK FOR HELP - and get it under control! Do what it takes, ladies!

The world needs you to be OK before you can be a rockstar!!