Preparing for Baby: What All New Moms Should Know

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April 23, 2018

I’ve prepared for a baby three times now and each time has been so very different.

For my first ever baby which was a foster baby, we received a phone call that she would be ready to go in just a couple days. We already had the bare essentials like a crib, car seat, bedding, and changing table. My mom friends were in a panic at how chill I was. I didn’t even have any bottles yet. I was only mildly concerned.

The day before we got her I made sure to have diapers and clothes. Then the day that we were supposed to get her, the hospital said she wasn’t ready yet. I went out and got bottles and other basics. Despite my disappointment, I definitely needed the extra time. When my husband and I finally went to pick her up, the hospital tried cramming everything a parent should know in an hour and then they let us walk out with her. I didn’t know what I was in for. We ran out of formula on the first night. Awesome parents, right? I gave her a bottle from another brand. Formula was formula, right? Nope! Some babies are very specific and I don’t advise switching between two major brands. She blasted right through it and proclaimed her hunger. My husband ran out to the store right away to get more of the right kind. We were such new parents that just had no clue.

The next baby, a girl, was biological. Man, did she ever have her own agenda! She came three whole whopping weeks early. I had already banked on her being a week late. I was so not ready. Didn’t even have my hospital bag packed or her crib ready for her. All I had semi-ready was her dresser of clothes. Then I saw my village in action. A friend showed up to take my other daughter for the day. Another friend came to take me to the hospital since my husband was three hours away. A friend volunteered to get my mother from the airport who had scrambled to get on a plane from across the country. And my husband’s sisters and mother–what a Godsend. They came while I was in labor and cleaned my house, set up the crib, set up a bed for my mother to sleep in, folded my laundry, and a million other things for me.

Looking back now, it’s all funny to me how far I have come. I have learned so much about what it really means to prepare for a new baby.

First, cover the essentials. Make sure you have diapers, wipes, clothes, a car seat, and a safe place for the baby to sleep. Swaddle sacks can be lifesavers, as well as a pacifier (if you believe in them). If you plan on breastfeeding, it’s not a bad idea to have backup formula and a bottle or two on hand in case of an emergency. Check with your insurance company to see if they will pay for your breast pump. Sometimes you get a pump while at the hospital, and sometimes you order them in advance. In my case, the hospital gave me a manual hand pump and I also received an electric pump through insurance.

Second, get that hospital bag packed by 36 weeks. Does that sound too early? It might sit there for 3-4 weeks, but you will be happy you had it ready if you go early. Pack comfy pants, slippers or slip on shoes, sports bra or nursing bras, chapstick, and other essential toiletries for showering, including shower shoes. Also, I recommend bringing snacks to munch on after giving birth and a good water bottle, as they usually just give you a cup. Don’t forget to pack two homecoming outfits for baby (just in case of an unexpected blowout!) and also a pacifier and a cute blanket. My hospital did in room newborn pictures and I was thankful we happened to have a cute blanket to wrap her in.

Third, I recommend having a few freezer meals on hand. Hopefully, you have a village of friends that will bring you meals during that first month as well. I also recommend having easy things to grab for breakfast, lunch, and snacks as there won’t always be time to prepare food to eat.

Finally, the last thing I recommend is having a couple friends or family members that you feel comfortable leaving the baby with while you catch up on sleep or have them do laundry or clean up the house. May sound hard to ask for now, but you will be thankful for it in the end.

hands holding baby's feet Providence Moms Blog — Photo by Benji Aird on Unsplash

Readers Share: Most Embarrassing MOMents

By

Jessica Johnson

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April 22, 2018

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Do you guys remember YM Magazine? Although it has been out of publication for almost 15 years now, I still think about those afternoons I spent in the school library thumbing through the latest issue. My absolute favorite part of YM Magazine was where readers wrote in and shared their most embarrassing moments. Usually, entries included getting a huge pimple before prom or farting in front of a crush. Reading those stories made me feel a little less awkward about a really awkward time in life.

Now thanks to my four kids, I have entered another awkward phase of life.

Parenthood.

And you know what? There is plenty of laughter to be had here, too. I sent out a call to some of our readers, asking for their most embarrassing moments, and my goodness, there were so many to choose from. Here are some of my favorites:

What Did You Say?!

“I had a phone interview and didn’t have a sitter for my 4 year old son. So, I got him busy on the tablet. He’d never before interrupted me on the phone, but he must’ve sensed change was imminent because he came screaming and crying into the room yelling, “Mommy, wipe my butt!!!” I never heard back from that organization.”

“My 4 year old told the grocery clerk that she was never having babies because ‘did you know they come out your vagina?! And it hurts?!'”

“I was on the bus with my 2 year old and he kept pulling on my shirt. Now I am a small chested girl. Anyways, he pulls my shirt out and looks in and with a very concerned, loud voice he goes, ‘OH NO! WHERE DID YOUR BOOBIES GO?’ I was mortified. The passengers did their best to contain their laughter.”

“My 7 year old told everyone we were going home to play 5 minutes in the dungeon, instead of 5 minute dungeon the board game…”

“When one of my kids was 2 years old, he couldn’t say the “tr” sound correctly. He, like other toddlers, pronounced it as ‘F.’ This was fine and adorable until one day while in Target, we passed by a bunch of large Tonka trucks. He was SO EXCITED, yelling ‘TRUCK TRUCK TRUCK!!!!’ Except, it came out as… well… you can put two and two together.”

“I was trying to make friends at Capron Park with another mom when the following exchange occurred. Other mother: ‘Is that your son? Are they twins?’ Me: (assuming she’s going to tell me how cute he is or that I am superwoman) ‘Yes!’ Other mother: ‘I think he’s eating mulch. Are you sure you can handle watching both at once?'”

“When my daughter was two she was in speech therapy. At her exit evaluation the therapist was asking me questions. She said, “Does she articulate words clearly for her age?” At that exact moment, Violet dropped a toy and said, clear as day, ‘Oh. damn it!’ We stared at each other, then she laughed and checked that one off.”

Over-exposed

“I was a first time mom, totally sleep deprived with a newborn who nursed around the clock. My neighbor, a 60 year old man, came to the door and asked me something. He stayed longer than usual. When he left, I went inside and shut the door. I about died when I noticed my shirt was not buttoned and my left breast was fully exposed. Most embarrassing moment ever.”

“One time, a single dad was hitting on me at the playground. I picked up my 18 month son to leave, and as I held him, my son reached down my shirt, into my bra, pulled out a Cheerio, and popped it in his mouth.”

“The first year my oldest was playing t-ball, I was sitting at practice with my then 3 year old, 1 year old, and infant. We were at a picnic table and the two older kids were eating while the baby nursed under a cover. Suddenly my 1yo started to fall and as I dove to grab her, two things happened simultaneously: the baby unlatched and my cover came flying up, resulting in the t-ball team, parents, coaches, etc getting a nice view of my entire right breast.”

“I was nursing my baby in a Friendly’s booth. I grab my Fribble. Baby sees it out of the corner of her eye and whips the straw out. She covers us both in Oreo Fribble and then unlatches, allowing my naked breast to hit the table.”

“My kids broke out into a wrestling match in a restaurant while I was trying to nurse a baby and engorged. I’m pretty sure I flashed the couple next to me.”

Potty-talk

“When my third child was potty training, I was pregnant with my fourth, and we were all enjoying lunch, with a friend, at a popular fast food restaurant when all of a sudden all the kids in the play place start screaming and running out. Then I saw my youngest, pants-less, booking it to the bathroom! My oldest ran over to me tell me that my pants-less child just pooped at the top of the play area. I was MORTIFIED!!!! So, my AMAZING friend went up there to get clothes and poo, while I attended to pants-less little man. Then to top it off as I’m trying to leave, as fast as possible, a worker came to clean up with a full face mask, gloves, bucket, the works…. I have NEVER stepped foot in that place again.”

“I was so embarrassed when my 3 year old son and I were in a full public restroom. My son bent down and asked where my penis was. Then he wanted to know why I didn’t have one. So I explained I had a vagina and he said, ‘that’s weird!’ Laughter filled the bathroom.”

“I was in line at grocery store. My son asked the older lady in front of us if she peed in the shower. She laughed and told him yes, if she has to. I was very embarrassed.”

“When my potty training kiddo said very loudly in a large, crowded, public bathroom at the mall, ‘Mommy did you make a poop? Good job!'”

Do you have an embarrassing MOMent to share? Let us know in the comments!

The Epic Adventure of Reading The Odyssey to My Baby

By

Kim Votruba-Matook

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April 20, 2018

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I knew the story of Odysseus fairly well through literary osmosis but had never actually read The Odyssey in school. I knew that the story was an incredible journey. And that it was also very long. Intimidatingly long, actually. It’s an epic after all, which I recently explained to my four-year-old son as “a series of little stories that work together to tell one larger one.” It seemed like he got it. Stories are easier to digest when you have those breaking points. (And as a parent, they’re easier to tell when you know you have built-in stopping points.) And so, here is how my epic begins.

Chapter 1: The Discovery

I came across The Odyssey as a graphic novel at my favorite local bookstore. I grabbed it immediately. It is written and drawn by Gareth Hinds and his stunning artwork is broken down into relatively short chapters. And, oh my gosh, the cover is the perfect lure. It is a watercolor of a larger than life (and understandably annoyed) Poseidon looming over a barely visible Odysseus on a raft. The enormity of Odysseus’ journey is crystal clear and it made me want to open it up and start reading immediately. Art can be so powerful in that way and Hinds nailed it. He made an intimidating text inviting through a single summarizing, gorgeously crafted piece of art. I couldn’t wait to see more art inside and how it was telling this centuries-old story. So, like Odysseus, I “set sail” for home, excited to reunite with my family and share my bounty.

Chapter 2: The Art of Making a Memory

At the time of this purchase, my daughter was only months old. Even though my little lady would not really sit still or fully understand the story (nor would I want her to understand or see some parts…it is a graphic novel after all), I wanted to make a literary memory with her. My son and I would read books all the time and it was so enjoyable. I wanted that same feeling with my baby girl. So, I shared my graphic novel with her and read it aloud. Akin to Odysseus, I didn’t know what to expect at the start of this adventure, but I was determined to see it through.

What really kept her interest was the art. She engaged with the beautiful watercolors and vibrant colors. Seeing what colors, marks, and shapes she gravitated toward was fascinating and provided inspiration for conversations describing certain characters with more detail and reiterating parts of the story. Words cannot describe how much I loved this! The irony of my daughter happily poking the Cyclops in the eye was not lost on me, either. The guy was clearly asking for it.

Chapter 3: The Epic Journey

I thoroughly enjoyed every second of “reading” this 248-page novel with my little girl. It’s a good thing too because it took us three months to work through it. Talk about an epic adventure. Again, great job with breaking the story into several, relatively short chapters. But because I was reading a very long story to a baby, it took a few sittings to get through each one. You work with what you can get, though, and I got really good at recapping the story and then wooing her to sitting with me to look at the “pretty pictures!” As Odysseus had to manage his crew while sailing them into the unknown, I studied the moment and mood to make each second and word count with my little girl. Bit by bit, Odysseus and I overcame our challenges and progressed on our journeys.

Chapter 4: Realizing the Hidden Truth

While I did not realize it at the time, upon reflection of my “epic experience” with my daughter, I really looked forward to reading The Odyssey with her. It took effort, but all that wrangling and wooing built up to reading an epic piece of classic literature. That’s an incredible accomplishment for both of us. Equally as important is that I broke through the excuse of “being so busy all the time” to carve out a few minutes to just sit and be with my baby. My goal was simply to experience a story through art and written word, all with the greater goal of connecting with my little lady. I think we both needed that.

Chapter 5: This Story Ends, Yet the Epic Continues

In powering through a three-month effort to read an epic about a man who travels for decades to get home, it does provide some reflection on the life of a parent. Case in point: during one part of the story, Odysseus was up for nine nights straight trying to steer his ship and crew home. Moms can relate to that, right? Hopefully not literally, though…

Despite being exhausted and thrown around by the gods for vengeance (and fun), Odysseus persevered and kept his eye on the prize: getting home to his family. I can get on board with that, pun intended. Parenting is hard. We don’t know what adventures and challenges await us, but we stay focused on doing our utmost to raise great kids and make meaningful memories. Maybe it’s not always as graceful as we hope, but we get the job done. I mean, we’re not battling sea monsters, right? Though I’m sure sometimes it feels like that. We ride out the storms and stay focused on the horizon because we hope, like Odysseus, for that happy ending. That all our effort is worth it.

My daughter and I closed the book on Odysseus’s story over a year ago, yet that experience continues to inspire. He is now a story within our ever-evolving epic as we write more of it every day.

Keep Us From Dying: Black Maternal Health Awareness

By

Shay

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April 19, 2018

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Black maternal health week. BLACK maternal health week. Black MATERNAL health week…

I will NOT capitalize the word health because we BLACK MATRONS don’t have any health to spare for that. The experts have weighed in and the studies have been conducted to make what WE have known for eons an “evidenced-based public health fact.”

A concern, a movement, an initiative, turned an awareness week, and I am here. I am here to help plan and coordinate an event hosted to promote the viewing of an informative documentary The Naked Truth: Death By Delivery that included the statistic proven within one of the aforementioned studies in the New York Times that “Black women in New York are 12 times more likely to die due to childbirth complications than their white counterparts.”

Colonizers have been killing us for generations.

So, of course, it’s the black mothers who die.

But there is strength in numbers and empowerment in having positive birth outcomes. Having positive birth empowers women by proving they have the strength and they don’t need a man doctor institution to “save” them.

I am here to discuss that the documentary that was filmed in other states, the studies that were completed in other states, the statistics that were computed in other states, yet all transfer in their entireties to YES Rhode Island, YES the woman living beside you, YES, even your best friend.

I am here to tell you that you are the problem.

Whenever you sit in a doctor’s office and you hear me struggle to schedule my appointments because I am the primary breadwinner for my family and you do not request for evening office hours, you are making it harder for me to be a healthy mother. Whenever you take a stand to not see me for the color that I am and refuse to acknowledge that walking in America while being black puts my body into a constant Fight-or-Flight reaction, you are not addressing the chronic stress I am experiencing, therefore missing the heightened cortisol levels in my bloodstream and misdiagnosing me with “minor fatigue.”

Whenever I am the problem, I work to also be the solution and so I leave you with 3 challenges for Black Maternal Health Week 2018:

FIND: Find local resources that will help facilitate stress reduction for a black mother.

BUILD: Network with your community so when a mother, any mother, is in need everyone will know you are a great resource connection.

CREATE: If you cannot FIND the right resources and you cannot BUILD the right connections, BE a resource yourself. You have been called to action. I am here. I want all of my sisters here with me. Let us keep them.

Modern Sex Education: or, How Exactly Does the Sperm Reach the Egg?

By

Carol-Ane Woodard

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April 18, 2018

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“How Exactly Does the Sperm Reach the Egg?”
My five-year-old asked that question over and over.

I was a modern mother, but not that modern.

Still, he was persistent. Every time we went the library, he headed to the section on the human body. I would dutifully read it to him but leave out the crucial parts. After all, however ‘modern’ I was, I did not want to be the mother of that kindergartener who explained the facts of life to an eager pre-school audience.

I did acknowledge my own fault in this.

As a modern mother with a 5-year-old, a 9-year-old and an 11-year-old, I was determined to NOT make …shhh…sex…a secret, scary subject. So I discussed…that stuff…openly and whenever questions were asked.

We were lucky enough to be able to do family dinners, and…those topics…were frequently discussed around the dinner table with some modifications due to the presence of the 5-year-old. But, the whole ‘sperm meets the egg; becomes a baby that is grown inside the mother’ always seemed tame enough.

After all, my own mother had been a “modern mother.” I remember her trying to have “the talk” with me.

“Umm.” she started. “Have your friends told you any jokes that you didn’t understand?”

“Huh? No. What?”

She finally gave up, and just outright told me that whole shebang. I think she included a couple of those “jokes.” None of which I had heard. But I was 11, and she needed to warn me about menstruation. And boys. And accidental pregnancies.

I remember being pretty horrified as well as puzzled.

“It sounds like it would be awfully hard to do…THAT… by accident.”

I thought I was doing better with my own kids. I was even more modern than MY modern mother.

I thought that until that morning when I was driving my kindergartener to daycare.

“Mom,” he asked. “To get the sperm to the egg, does the daddy put his penis inside the mother? And do kind of a pushup? And pant? And go up and down?”

I gasped, slammed on the brake, skidded to a halt, and put my hand on his shoulder. I shook him, shouting “WHAT? WHAT?!”

Well, actually, no.

I didn’t do that. I kept trying to be a modern mom. After taking a deep breath, I tried to ask questions. Calmly. And. I was taking him to daycare. I had to catch a train. I had to get to work. (Every modern working mom, has to be bit psychopathic to keep her job. Right?)

So I replied. Calmly. “Umm. Yes. Ummm. How? How do you know this?” (Had he seen his father and me? Had he seen someone else?!)

My precocious 5-year-old was happy to explain.

He had watched a film. In it, the teacher had drawn a diagram on a blackboard with pictures of the sperm and the egg.

“Oh.”

Then the teacher showed a film demonstrating exactly how the sperm got to the egg. In this film, he explained, the teacher put his penis inside the woman, got up on his arms – as though he was doing a pushup – and panted.

“But?” I asked, still driving. And still trying desperately trying to be calm…”Where!? How!? Who showed you this?!!”

“Josh (his older brother) and Bill (his brothers’ friend.) They were watching a movie.”

Oh. OK.

“Oh. OK.” I replied. Breathing.

“Please,” I added. “Whatever you do, don’t tell any of your friends about this. Please. Don’t tell them how the sperm reaches the egg.”

That evening, after I got home from work, Josh, my oldest, was in trouble.

We discussed it at the supper table. Or perhaps not. Perhaps we discussed it privately.

“WHAT?! What did Greg see? What were you watching? What were you thinking?!” I demanded, somewhat less than calmly.

“The Meaning of Life. It’s a Monty Python film,” he explained. “It had this really awesome throw-up scene!” He started to describe the scene in great detail.

“Stop! Wait? Just how was your younger brother able to accurately describe the sex act?!” I demanded, somewhat less than calmly.

“Umm. Oh. Well. There was a scene where a professor drew a diagram of the sperm and the egg on the blackboard. Then he switched to a home video of him and his wife…doing it…it was kinda boring…”

“What?!! You were supposed to be babysitting?! How could you let your younger brother watch that?!!”

“Umm. Well, we tried to get him to go away, but he just wouldn’t leave…”

“You could have turned it off!” I exclaimed.

I breathed. I remembered that my first rule for babysitting was to NOT fight. And that 11-year-olds watching movies didn’t ever turn them off. I don’t remember who had picked up “The Meaning of Life.” And to this day, I have not seen the offending film.

Blessedly, I never got a complaint from the daycare. Either my son did not share his revelation, or his fellow kindergarteners did not have “modern parents” and did really care exactly how the sperm got to the egg. Maybe the daycare owners were modern and intrigued.

Whatever. There is no moral to this story. My kindergartener is now married with two children of his own. So, all’s well that ends well. Apparently, he did figure out exactly how the sperm reaches the egg.

The Rhode Island Family Rainy Day Guide

By

Robin Barton

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April 17, 2018

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Get Moving!

Trampoline Parks, Locations Vary

The worst part of rainy days is when your kids have all of the pent-up energy and nowhere to spend it. What better place to get them moving and grooving than at a trampoline park? There are a few available in Rhode Island:

Sky Zone, Rumford
Launch Trampoline Park, Warwick
Aero Trampoline Park, Woonsocket

Monster Mini-Golf, Seekonk, MA

Wish some of your sunny day activities could still be had when it’s rainy or cold out? Wish no more! Monster mini golf offers a fun and unique indoor mini-golfing experience. It’s a little spooky but a lot of fun. There is also an arcade area. Helpful hint: You can often find Monster Mini Golf discounts via Groupon!

Skating, Locations Vary

Embrace winter, lace up your skates, and get some exercise at your local ice rink. There are many rinks in the state that offer indoor public skates that run year round. Here are a few locations:

Smithfield Municipal Skating Rink, Smithfield
Dennis M. Lynch Arena, Pawtucket
Cranston Veterans Memorial Rink, Cranston
Boss Ice Arena, North Kingston
Levy Rink, Burrillville
New England Sports Village, Attleboro, MA

United Skates of America, East Providence

Is the ice not for you? Then maybe you need to throw it back to junior high and lace up some rollerskates with your family! With laser tag, rock climbing, and an arcade also available, there are plenty of options for indoor family fun.

Discover

Biomes, North Kingston

A private marine education facility, Biomes is a hands-on experience for kids and adults alike. Biomes has kept my children entertained on more than one rainy day. One minute you can hold a horseshoe crab, and the next you can watch a stingray feeding or pufferfish demonstration.

Providence Children’s Museum, Providence

Providence Children’s Museum offers hands-on, play-based that explores arts, science, technology, and engineering. Accesible for a range of ages, children can learn about early Rhode Islanders, engage in water play, and plan city exhibits among many other activities.

RISD Family Programs, Providence

Right in the heart of Providence, is the Rhode Island School of Design Museum. Not only does the RISD museum offer stunning galleries, but also a wide variety of family programs ranging from age 3 to 18. Check their events calendar for upcoming sessions that are sure to keep creative juices flowing, even for the youngest art enthusiasts.

Build and Create

Pottery painting, Various Locations

If your kids are like mine, they love to paint. They also are pretty messy with said paint and just taking out all of the supplies can be a bit of a pain. If the kids are clamoring for their arts & crafts, head out to a local pottery painting place. They get to choose their own piece of pottery and the colors. There are several locations in RI:

Clayground, East Greenwich
Peapoddery, Cumberland
Weirdgirl Creations, Barrington
Create Color Art Studio, Narragansett

Home Depot Kids Workshops, Various Locations

The first Saturday of the month, Home Depot offers free kids workshops. Each child receives an apron, a pin and all the parts they need to make that month’s project. Projects vary from month to month. My son and I most recently made a block calendar together at one of these events. Home Depot offers this across most locations.

Lakeshore Learning Free Crafts for Kids, Cranston

Each Saturday, between 11am and 3m, Lakeshore Learning offers free kids crafts for the 3+ crowd. No pre-registration is necessary. Just show up and begin crafting. Projects vary weekly.

Catch a Game

It’s easy to get spoiled when you are a New England sports fan and get lost in the “big” leagues by way of the Red Sox, Bruins, Patriots, and Celtics. But here in Rhode Island, we have some great teams you can watch, indoors, to get a taste of the next big sports sensations. Try catching a Providence Bruins game, or a Providence College basketball or hockey game. If you’re from the southern part of our state, grab tickets and cheer on the University of RI basketball team.

The Worst Advice We Give Parents

By

Tracy Slater

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April 16, 2018

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Well-meaning older relatives give us this advice. It’s written on glossy pamphlets meant to help. Signs on the walls of the pediatrician’s office compel us. It’s definitely in the “don’t shake the baby” video they make you watch at the hospital.

“When you get frustrated, take a deep breath, walk away and count to ten.”

It seems sensible enough. We nod and smile and imagine ourselves calmly walking away from frustrating encounters with small humans. We feel confident in our abilities.

And then we have the baby. And he screams and screams and screams. The baby becomes a toddler who pushes us to the limits of our patience and keeps on going. And then a teen who knows just the right button to push to send us over the edge. We are hot and we are tired and we are hungry and we are touched out. And something snaps. Maybe we yell. Swear. Maybe we throw a toy. Maybe we kick the wall. We have dark thoughts that we could previously never have imagined having. We imagine saying hurtful things to these people who we cherish so much. In our mind’s eye, we imagine, just for a second, doing something that might hurt them. Hopefully a second. Hopefully, it stays in our mind. Hopefully, it stops there.

And a hell of a lot of good “take a deep breath, walk away and count to ten” does for us then. There is nothing rational left in our brain by the time we need to follow that advice. It’s fried. Kaput. We’re working on instinct and praying that instinct keeps our babies safe.

So when I become that well-meaning older relative, what I hope I remember to say to the shiny, hopeful new parents I encounter is this: Take a deep breath, walk away and count to ten NOW. Do it again tonight. And tomorrow. Maybe do it three times tomorrow. Do it when you are calm. Do it when you’re angry. When you are driving. When your partner annoys you just a little. Do it while you pee. Practice and practice and practice again until it is second nature. Until it is so automatic that maybe, just maybe, you have a chance of remembering to walk away when you need to. These babies. They are so hard. They are so, so, hard and they WILL push you beyond anything you can imagine. But. They are as fragile as they are hard. You can break them if you’re not careful. Your anger, your words, your loss of control… it’s all shaping them.

Take a deep breath.
Walk away.
Count to ten.

Now do it again. Your babies are counting on you.

If you or someone you know needs support or guidance, please go to The Children’s Bureau for more resources.

The Truth About Motherhood: Sometimes I Swear Like a Sailor

By

Jackie Hennessey

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April 15, 2018

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It could be because my kids are teenagers. Because my kids were both home for nine days straight for February break. Or that I’m admittedly not perfect and sometimes lose my patience. Whatever the reason, I tend to talk like a sailor when I’m not around my kids. I honestly don’t remember swearing that much before I became a mom.

I get such a release from it. The moment my kids left for school this morning, I jumped up and down and proceeded to blast music from my Pandora playlist and had a mini rock concert in the kitchen while putting the dishes away. I was dancing down the driveway on my way to go for a walk with my best friend. And I dropped a few F-bombs. We both giggled. Then I remembered my friend is trying a new thing where she doesn’t swear.

At first, I thought, WTF?

But I admire her tenacity. She says it makes her feel better when she doesn’t swear, and she’s totally OK with other people swearing. She actually thinks it’s funny. If she slips up, she gives her daughter a donation to what I lovingly refer to as the Swear Jar. It’s genius. And admirable.

But. I’m. Just. Not. There. Yet.

Did I mention that my kids were home for nine days straight in the middle of February? And they are teenagers?

I realize I’m out of the diaper stage. The toddler stage. The ridiculously active kindergarten stage. The first grade totally-attached-to-my-leg stage. I lived through and loved it all with a few girls’ nights and date nights with my hubby thrown in to help maintain my mommy sanity. But my kids are older now. They’re great kids. But it’s a new stage. And it has its awesome side and its not-so-fun side.

I have turned into my mother.

They are no longer at the age where I can just whisk them off to the zoo or the playground to get their wiggles out. No, when you’re a mom to teenagers, you have to go around their practices and social calendars. I mommy-uber the younger one around while I wait patiently for daily so-called plans from the older one and try to sneak in chores for them to do too.

“What are you up to today, honey?”

“I dunno.”

I plaster on a smile while I slowly wither away until I sneak out for a swear session in the privacy of my car. Like nicotine to a smoker, it feels so good.

(By the way, now I know what Mrs. Walsh from 90210 felt like. But I have a feeling she never swore!)

My kids are awesome and I love them dearly. But when it comes to mood swings during February vacation, I thought I’d lose my mind. And I’m not just talking about myself. So to maintain my sanity, I often swear like a sailor as soon as they leave the room. Or when I’m out with my girlfriends. It reminds me of the creative ways I used to mask this bad habit. I wanted to share some tidbits from a post I wrote a long time ago to show what a difference a few years makes when it comes to motherhood. It really makes you appreciate each stage:

Through the years, I’ve tried relentlessly to use substitute swear words in front of my kids. Unfortunately, when something happens that’s out of my control, I panic. I forget. I temporarily lose “mommy” control. And although I want the oh-so-satisfying profanities to release themselves into the wild, I catch myself. And I try NOT to say THAT eff-in WORD at the last minute.

For example:
* When I ran downstairs recently, took one wretched whiff and realized my dog had gone #2 loosely all over the family room rug, my kids heard me scream, then shout, “SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhh
UUUUUUUGGGGAR.”
* When I burned myself on my daughter’s cute mini cupcake maker, (which I swear was modeled after Arrested Development’s illegal-in-the-U.S. Cornballer machine) my kids might hear: “HOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLL
LLYYYYYYYY
SHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHuuuugar!” spew out of my mouth.
* When I hit my elbow (for the umpteenth time) on the corner of the kitchen counter, all they hear is:
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
uuuuuddddge.”
These words are incredibly lame. I know this. But they must be used most of the time at least. Or else my children would think their mother is indeed a sailor.
Other favorite phrases in my house that my mother frowns at, but I think are passable for good parenting?
– “For the love of…… Christmas”
– “Dang it”
– “Jinkies”(Courtesy of Scooby-Doo!)
– “Beetle juice”
– “Flippin’”
– “O M Goodness”
– “Mother of Pearl”
– “Praise Jeebus” (thanks to Homer Simpson)
– “Fahrvergnügen”
– “Holy Tamale”
– And my personal favorite…”Son of a……”

I’m not an idiot. I know my kids don’t live under a rock. I get that they recognize REAL swear words. They watch PG and PG-13 movies (from the 1980’s, mind you) sometimes. It’s all about the ear-muffs, right? When they hear a bad word, my husband and I will warn them, “Ear-muff it, kids. If you accidentally hear it, NEVER use that word”. And they jokingly cover their ears. (Footnote: This method of parenting is courtesy of Vince Vaughn’s role in the movie Old School, thank you very much.)
But as long as I am their mother, I will keep trying! Gosh help me, I will keep trying.

Being a mom isn’t easy. It has its rewards. But if you need to release an eff-bomb here or there, just know that I get it. I’m part of a judgment-free zone, girlfriend. And I give you full on, from-one-mother-to-another permission!

That Time a Hair Bow Nearly Caused a Nervous Breakdown {Why you need to Simplify Your Life}

By

Tracy Slater

-

April 13, 2018

0

We are grateful to Simplify Your Life for providing services in exchange for this this review.

I had a bit of a meltdown the day of my daughter’s first birthday pictures. I was looking for the grey bow and I couldn’t find it anywhere. Never mind that I had about seven bows in my hand; I had an inexplicable need for that particular bow. Was it in the diaper bag? Nope. That other bag full of baby crap? Nope. Maybe the backup diaper bag? The basket full of miscellaneous baby stuff in her room? How about the one in the hallway? Nope, nope, nope. Nothing was where I expected it to be and with each upended bag, basket and box, my agitation mounted. By the time I left for pictures (not having found the bow) I was in a tizzy, my house looked like a tsunami had hit, and I had sent an email to Corrie Douglas of Simplify your Life RI:

“I need your help!”

I’d been stalking Simplify your Life on Instagram for a while. Her feed is full of great tips and before and after shots of organizational projects that seemed to me like they should be manageable. But I’d had “get your ___ together” on my to-do list for long enough that I knew I needed a little support.

The thing is, I actually like organizing quite a bit. But with three kids, two part-time jobs, and a sleep deficit six years in the making, my brain just wasn’t up to the task. Even when I am able to carve out a few kid-free minutes to dive into a project, I end up feeling paralyzed, unable to make simple decisions. What should go where? What do I keep, what do I toss? Where do I even start? A mother’s brain is a busy place and we are constantly trying to make pretty big decisions; is my family complete, is it time to start potty training, how can I keep my kids safe? As a result, decision fatigue often sets in, making it very difficult to make the seemingly smaller decisions about how to structure our homes. If this sounds familiar to you, there is no shame in calling for back-up.

Corrie herself is lovely, and she immediately put me at ease. She is genuinely excited about what she does and it is clear that she loves helping families get organized. A mother herself, she understands the challenges families face and did not judge my chaos. She came in for an initial consultation to discuss what I wanted help with and what we would need. Corrie can work with the supplies and furniture you already have, make reasonably priced suggestions of what you can buy, or will buy things for you and add it to the bill. We chatted a few times between the initial consult and my appointment as she came up with different ideas for the project she was going to work on. Read that last sentence again, because it’s an important one. The project SHE WAS GOING TO WORK ON. This was the biggest surprise to me. I figured she’d give some tips and help a bit, but the day of the appointment we chatted for a few minutes, then she sent me away. You guys, I could have taken a nap while someone else magically organized my life (or at least my entryway and playroom) – I was beginning to think this was some sort of miracle.

And the results? I was thrilled. The entryway, which had formerly been a disorganized pile of shoes, bags, and whatever else got dropped as my family walked by suddenly did not give me palpitations. Each of the kids had a labeled bin for shoes, another for accessories (like bows!), and there was a spot for backpacks. And although they’ve needed a few reminders, the kids are actually pretty thrilled to have a space of their own for their things. When she was done with the entryway, ~~my new fairy godmother~~ Corrie moved on to the playroom, sorting, labeling, and rearranging in a manner that made SO MUCH more sense. When she called up to me “do you mind if I work on the arts and crafts area?” I could have hugged her.

The thing is mamas, if clutter and chaos stress you out (and studies have shown that for many of us it does), finding a way to get things a bit under control should not be seen as an indulgence, but rather as an important piece of self-care. When things are causing us stress, we owe it to ourselves and to our children to find a way to reduce that stress. Perhaps it means begging a spouse or a friend to get the kids out of your hair for a day so you can dig into it, or perhaps it means hiring a service like Simplify Your Life to help you out – either way, give yourself permission to make it a priority if it’s important to you. I for one will be having Corrie back soon to tackle my overfilled basement and the terrifying mess that is the children’s closet.

Does your home cause you stress? Are there piles everywhere, closets are stuffed, the basement is packed and it is just not functional, appealing or enjoyable anymore? If you answered yes, I am here to help! Simplify Your Life is ready to help you de-stress, de-clutter and free up time and space so you can start to enjoy life and your home environment again! My name is Corrie Douglas, Professional Organizer, Owner of Simplify Your Life. I have a Bachelor’s Degree in Social Work and a love for helping and organizing! (401) 589-1916 | simplifyourliferi.com | [email protected]

Morning Drop Off: I’m Not Ready for My Close Up

By

Gigi Walker

-

April 12, 2018

1

I have the good fortune to be a work-from-home mom, which means I rarely get dressed and ready before I drop my kids off at school. Lately, though, I’ve really let things slide. Maybe it’s the winter blues, or maybe I’ve just gotten too friendly with the snooze button, but in recent weeks I’ve managed to top my personal worst with each passing day.

In the fall, I would usually pretend I was headed to the gym or yoga, and I’d put on workout clothes for the school run. It’s important that you understand that I have exercised after morning drop off exactly once, and it was only because another mom I wanted to be friends with asked me to go for a walk with her. Regardless, in the fall I was making an effort to put on something clean and somewhat matching.

Right before winter break, I confess that I did the school run in my PJs once or twice. To be fair, I often sleep in cute leggings, and really, who can tell the difference these days between athleisure (which is apparently totally acceptable to wear out and about) and PJs (which mysteriously are not, but should be)? I did wash my face and put on a bra, though, so it was basically like I got dressed, right? The looks I got as I walked my daughter to her classroom would suggest that it was not the same, but I can’t say the judgment changed my behavior. Quite the opposite, in fact.

I thought winter break would be the rejuvenation I needed, but clearly, it was not. Last week I not only drove my kids to school in my (cute, athleisure) PJs, but I also did not wash my face, nor did I put on a bra. I have become *that mom.* The flashback to my own mother waiting with us at the bus stop, braless, in her robe, was not enough to deter me. I was only mildly horrified with myself. My grandmother, who once asked me if I got a fine from my sorority for walking across campus without my girdle on, was surely rolling in her grave, but me? Mostly not bothered at all.

In part, I blame that friend with whom I went for a walk. One sleeting morning, I saw her dropping her daughter off in the fire lane, and not parking and walking in like a sucker. She gleefully rolled down her window and announced that she wasn’t wearing a bra, so there was no way she was walking inside. It was her pure giggly joy that got me. Rather than feel not up to par, I, too, could just stay in my car and be thrilled with my decisions. She normalized this for me, giving me permission to start my day at a more humane hour after I got back home and had another cup or three of coffee.

Wondering how many other moms are in this boat, I brought it up to a few other girlfriends. One of them said she fantasized about a drive-up chute like the book return at the library that she could use to deliver her child to school. I have to say that if this chute were slide-like, the kids would enjoy it. I see a win-win here. Can we have a bake sale to fund this thing?

Anyway, the highly non-scientific, purely anecdotal, non-representative sample that I used for my research confirmed that more and more moms are starting their days later and delivering the kids to school in PJs or “I’m-not-actually-going-to-workout” clothes. So the next time I walk my kid inside looking less than my best, I’m just going to assume that all those looks I get are jealousy and not judgment. Let me know if you’re joining me! And also let me know if you’ll chair the bake sale because that kid drop-off chute is a solid idea.

What Did You Say?!

Over-exposed

Potty-talk

Do you have an embarrassing MOMent to share? Let us know in the comments!

Chapter 1: The Discovery

Chapter 2: The Art of Making a Memory

Chapter 3: The Epic Journey

Chapter 4: Realizing the Hidden Truth

Chapter 5: This Story Ends, Yet the Epic Continues

“How Exactly Does the Sperm Reach the Egg?” My five-year-old asked that question over and over.

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“How Exactly Does the Sperm Reach the Egg?”
My five-year-old asked that question over and over.