Wow, things are tough out there.
Unemployment benefits are set to expire for millions of Americans in the coming weeks and the debate about tax cuts, extending unemployment benefits beyond the 99 weeks currently covered and the job market rages on.
I'm not here to express my opinion about any of that, I do not consider myself informed or educated enough to offer an opinion or solution to our national economic situation.
I recently signed up for home delivery of the Philadelphia Inquirer on Sundays, hoping I'd clip some coupons and save some money at the grocery store. (I'm having a hard time finding the time to cut said coupons, but I'm not giving up yet.) Even though I'm not looking for a new job, I thought I'd take a look at the classifieds to see what the job market was really like...I mean, the paper was already in my house and everything, why not?
And I have to say, I'm glad I'm not looking. The last time I looked for a job, I was living in Bethlehem and it was 2005. My boyfriend (currently known as One Philly Daddy) and I had decided that the Lehigh Valley - Philadelphia suburb commute to see each other was no longer working. We wanted more time together, and suspected that this was "it", so I planned to relocate.
I remember sorting through pages of classifieds, to find 5 - 10 jobs that were an OK fit and 1 - 3 that felt like a really good fit. There were probably an additional 10 - 20 that I could apply for and have a chance at getting. Back then, it was OK to be picky about the kind of job, hours, pay, industry I wanted to work in. I only applied to jobs I really wanted, and it took 6 months for the process to play itself out, from deciding to look to starting a new job. And it was still stressful and felt like a long time.
These past few weeks of glancing at the classifieds (I don't have the stomach for much more than a glance.) I've found very few jobs that I am qualified for. Maybe one or two that I might be considered for, and more times than not, zero that were a good, or even OK fit that I could be excited about.
Yikes.
No wonder people are stressed and worried and scared. It seems being picky about the kind of job, hours, pay, and industry is a thing of the past (and hopefully future).
I don't know if we should extend unemployment or not. I don't know if we should extend the tax cuts for the rich, everyone or no one. I don't know what we should do.
I do know the sense of hopelessness is hard to fight and can be pervasive, from friends who've looked for jobs for a long time, to the news, to politicians. I am not in a hopeless situation by any means, and feel the effects of the hopelessness that seems to soak our world right now.
All I can offer in the way of encouragement is the fact that I have had personal experience in some really, really crappy situations. My mother offered these words of advice, which turned out to be true. "This too shall pass."
Hopefully, sooner rather than later.
sky's the limit
"And you? When will you begin that long journey into yourself?" - Rumi
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
A sister joins the sisterhood of motherhood
My sister recently announced that she is expecting her first child!
My sister is my best friend in the world. I can tell her anything, even dark, dirty little secrets I don't even want to say out loud to myself (and oh boy, have I!). I can brag to her about my kick a$$ day without worrying that she'll feel like I'm, well, bragging. She speaks my language, knows where I come from, and accepts everything about me. Clearly, I'm fond of the girl!
And to think of her on the journey of becoming a Mom just makes me so darned happy! (Because it is what she and her husband want and planned for. Not because I'm one of those pain in the a$$ people who thinks everyone should have a child...to each their own people!)
I've shared what little tidbits I can remember, pulled out all my books to give recommendations. (My favorite was The Pregnancy Bible. I LOVED it. I know everyone says you should get What to Expect When You're Expecting: Fourth Edition but I didn't find any pictures in there and I found the book kind of "blah" the few minutes I flipped through it in the book store.
But The Pregnancy Bible: Your Complete Guide to Pregnancy and Early Parenthood had pictures of the developing fetus for each week (real pictures, not artists renderings), as well as a week-by-week this-is-what's-happening-to-your-body explanation for Mom. (I'll admit, I cheated a lot and read into the future to see what was coming) As in all pregnancy books there are those pages/paragraphs that scare the be-jesus out of you, but One Philly Daddy and I made it a habit to sit in bed with that book and read about what One Philly Son was doing that week, or how far he'd come, or what he'd be doing when.... It was awesome and one of my fondest memories of being pregnant with our first child.
Of course, as in many, if not most, journeys in life, the during can be pretty hectic. After our anatomical ultrasound and One Philly Son was declared healthy, I still couldn't stop worrying something was wrong. I fretted about setting up the nursery. I fretted about affording everything. I fretted about getting everything done. I fretted about what I didn't know to fret about.
And...we got everything done. Everything turned out just fine. Mere months after the birth of One Philly Son we settled into a routine. All those things I fretted about magically transformed from unknown, scary, unimaginable things (just how early do I have to wake up to get us to work, the baby fed and to day care, the dogs and cat fed...how is that going to work? I could not imagine.) into normal, blessed, part-of-our-routine things.
Too often I don't give me/life/my husband the credit it deserves for the incredible track record of things working out. They usually do, and yet it always seems to be a surprise to me.
So I know my wonderful, darling sister must have a head full of "what if" and "how" and "when" and "holy cr@p, now what??"
But I also know, she'll find her answers, and in no time at all, she won't believe she was ever unsure of what to do.
My sister is my best friend in the world. I can tell her anything, even dark, dirty little secrets I don't even want to say out loud to myself (and oh boy, have I!). I can brag to her about my kick a$$ day without worrying that she'll feel like I'm, well, bragging. She speaks my language, knows where I come from, and accepts everything about me. Clearly, I'm fond of the girl!
And to think of her on the journey of becoming a Mom just makes me so darned happy! (Because it is what she and her husband want and planned for. Not because I'm one of those pain in the a$$ people who thinks everyone should have a child...to each their own people!)
I've shared what little tidbits I can remember, pulled out all my books to give recommendations. (My favorite was The Pregnancy Bible. I LOVED it. I know everyone says you should get What to Expect When You're Expecting: Fourth Edition but I didn't find any pictures in there and I found the book kind of "blah" the few minutes I flipped through it in the book store.
But The Pregnancy Bible: Your Complete Guide to Pregnancy and Early Parenthood had pictures of the developing fetus for each week (real pictures, not artists renderings), as well as a week-by-week this-is-what's-happening-to-your-body explanation for Mom. (I'll admit, I cheated a lot and read into the future to see what was coming) As in all pregnancy books there are those pages/paragraphs that scare the be-jesus out of you, but One Philly Daddy and I made it a habit to sit in bed with that book and read about what One Philly Son was doing that week, or how far he'd come, or what he'd be doing when.... It was awesome and one of my fondest memories of being pregnant with our first child.
Of course, as in many, if not most, journeys in life, the during can be pretty hectic. After our anatomical ultrasound and One Philly Son was declared healthy, I still couldn't stop worrying something was wrong. I fretted about setting up the nursery. I fretted about affording everything. I fretted about getting everything done. I fretted about what I didn't know to fret about.
And...we got everything done. Everything turned out just fine. Mere months after the birth of One Philly Son we settled into a routine. All those things I fretted about magically transformed from unknown, scary, unimaginable things (just how early do I have to wake up to get us to work, the baby fed and to day care, the dogs and cat fed...how is that going to work? I could not imagine.) into normal, blessed, part-of-our-routine things.
Too often I don't give me/life/my husband the credit it deserves for the incredible track record of things working out. They usually do, and yet it always seems to be a surprise to me.
So I know my wonderful, darling sister must have a head full of "what if" and "how" and "when" and "holy cr@p, now what??"
But I also know, she'll find her answers, and in no time at all, she won't believe she was ever unsure of what to do.
Monday, November 29, 2010
I’ve hesitated to write about this for some time. The situation is still going on, and the outcome remains completely unknown. But it is taking up a lot of room in my mind, so perhaps this will free up some room for other things.
I’m in an unfulfilling position at a non-profit going through a merger where no one’s position is guaranteed.
Since I returned to work from my FMLA Maternity leave, things have been up in the air with merger “talks”, then decisions, negotiations, and finally restructuring. We’re in the restructuring process, and, as often happens in these situations (this is not my first merger/buy out experience) things take longer than expected and planned.
So what we’d hoped to be wrapping up soon will probably be going on into the new year for at least a few weeks.
Prior to my maternity leave, things were different. I worked long, hard, crazy, busy hours. If I took a lunch, I came back to multiple voicemails and emails. I accomplished incredible quantities of work. My philosophy and response was “I can do that” no matter how crazy the request, how short the deadline, how big the project. (And most of the time, I did do “it”.) If I didn’t know how to do it, I found out. If no one else wanted a project, I took it. If a position was vacant, I filled in until it was filled. Sure, I was frustrated sometimes, and overwhelmed by all the work at times.
But I also felt important, busy, valued, appreciated, necessary, awesome. I had a complete sense of having it all. I could have a family, a challenging job, contribute financially to my family and feel great doing it. I was PUMPED at the prospect of it all.
Now, unfortunately, I feel listless, unsure, confused, unnoticed. My tasks have dwindled (hopefully to increase if/when the merger is finished), and I hate to say it, but I’m not sure anyone really notices I’m here. I can go days, if not weeks without a work related voice mail (I don’t count telemarketers).
It is disheartening and disconcerting to feel so invisible after feeling so indispensible.
I yearn for a purpose, a sense of accomplishment.
Have you ever noticed the phenomenon that the busier you are, the more you can get done? I epitomized that phenomenon at work for awhile, and now I am bogged down in the flip side. No focus, no drive, no motivation. It takes me an hour to write a fax now. I used to do that in the midst of returning a phone call AND an email.
I feel like my brain is turning to mush, and I miss the fire and rush of feeling necessary and important.
So, I'm going to try to get that rush somewhere else, brainstorm a personal project that might give me that sense of fulfillment I am missing.
This situation at work will pass, and whatever the outcome, everything will work out. But I bet finding an independent source of fulfilment, a passion of my own is a worthwhile pursuit.
What's your passion? Is it really yours or is it dependent on someone or something else?
I’m in an unfulfilling position at a non-profit going through a merger where no one’s position is guaranteed.
Since I returned to work from my FMLA Maternity leave, things have been up in the air with merger “talks”, then decisions, negotiations, and finally restructuring. We’re in the restructuring process, and, as often happens in these situations (this is not my first merger/buy out experience) things take longer than expected and planned.
So what we’d hoped to be wrapping up soon will probably be going on into the new year for at least a few weeks.
Prior to my maternity leave, things were different. I worked long, hard, crazy, busy hours. If I took a lunch, I came back to multiple voicemails and emails. I accomplished incredible quantities of work. My philosophy and response was “I can do that” no matter how crazy the request, how short the deadline, how big the project. (And most of the time, I did do “it”.) If I didn’t know how to do it, I found out. If no one else wanted a project, I took it. If a position was vacant, I filled in until it was filled. Sure, I was frustrated sometimes, and overwhelmed by all the work at times.
But I also felt important, busy, valued, appreciated, necessary, awesome. I had a complete sense of having it all. I could have a family, a challenging job, contribute financially to my family and feel great doing it. I was PUMPED at the prospect of it all.
Now, unfortunately, I feel listless, unsure, confused, unnoticed. My tasks have dwindled (hopefully to increase if/when the merger is finished), and I hate to say it, but I’m not sure anyone really notices I’m here. I can go days, if not weeks without a work related voice mail (I don’t count telemarketers).
It is disheartening and disconcerting to feel so invisible after feeling so indispensible.
I yearn for a purpose, a sense of accomplishment.
Have you ever noticed the phenomenon that the busier you are, the more you can get done? I epitomized that phenomenon at work for awhile, and now I am bogged down in the flip side. No focus, no drive, no motivation. It takes me an hour to write a fax now. I used to do that in the midst of returning a phone call AND an email.
I feel like my brain is turning to mush, and I miss the fire and rush of feeling necessary and important.
So, I'm going to try to get that rush somewhere else, brainstorm a personal project that might give me that sense of fulfillment I am missing.
This situation at work will pass, and whatever the outcome, everything will work out. But I bet finding an independent source of fulfilment, a passion of my own is a worthwhile pursuit.
What's your passion? Is it really yours or is it dependent on someone or something else?
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
What's your gift philosophy?
Even though One Philly Son has already had one Christmas, and is quickly approaching his second, I am still contemplating my Christmas gift philosophy.
The ginormous pile of everything he asked for? or a few specific and hopefully meaningful gifts?
Last Christmas One Philly Daddy and I agreed to purchase only a few gifts for One Philly Son. #1 He was 4 months old and wouldn't remember #2 He didn't need a stinkin' thing. #3 He wasn't aware enough to want anything and #4 We knew he'd get plenty of gifts from other, very generous friends and family.
Last year, we bought him a cloth storybook, and a singing Elephant, and I'm happy to say, he still plays with both and still carries them around the house nearly a year later. Which is what we want a gift to be, right? Something that brings joy and stands the test of time to provide continued joy.
This year we are following much of the same philosophy. So far,we are gifting 1) 3 personalized books that will include his name, because I hope he'll enjoy them for years to come, plus they are Sesame Street ABC and 123 books, so there is also an educational component.
2) a Stride to Ride Dino Walker (currently $44.99 at Toys R US, but free shipping if you spend $49) because I know he will love, love, love it right now. (and we have the room and floors so he can ride it in the house during the winter)
and 3) a Disney music CD (cheaper new at Toys R Us) because he is fascinated with the CD player, "dances" in his car seat to music playing in the car and loves Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.
I hope they are all things that One Philly Son will enjoy and use often.
We might pick up a few more small things, and maybe I'll get some cute little things that he can dump out of his stocking on Christmas morning. But that's probably about it.
He still won't remember this Christmas, so I don't feel the need to "wow" him just yet. If one day, he's just set on something spectacular, and One Philly Daddy and I can swing it, I'd love to gift him that amazing gift
that he talks about years later as "the" Christmas. Every parent wants to provide that, don't they?
But I don't think (who knows?, life evolves) I'll strive to provide a pile that can be literally be jumped into, like some of my childhood classmates got...
I guess I don't want to create the unhealthy expectation for One Philly Son that he will get everything he wants all the time. I believe this leads to the child not understanding the value of what they have and a sense of entitlement.
But at the same time, I understand the philosophy that childhood only happens once, and when is a better time to teach a child to wish, to dream, and to expect those wishes and dreams to come true?
So what's your gift philosophy? Do you let your child(ren) make unlimited lists and provide everything on it? Or limit their requests to a few items and only provide a small pile? Let me know your thoughts...
The ginormous pile of everything he asked for? or a few specific and hopefully meaningful gifts?
Last Christmas One Philly Daddy and I agreed to purchase only a few gifts for One Philly Son. #1 He was 4 months old and wouldn't remember #2 He didn't need a stinkin' thing. #3 He wasn't aware enough to want anything and #4 We knew he'd get plenty of gifts from other, very generous friends and family.
Last year, we bought him a cloth storybook, and a singing Elephant, and I'm happy to say, he still plays with both and still carries them around the house nearly a year later. Which is what we want a gift to be, right? Something that brings joy and stands the test of time to provide continued joy.
This year we are following much of the same philosophy. So far,we are gifting 1) 3 personalized books that will include his name, because I hope he'll enjoy them for years to come, plus they are Sesame Street ABC and 123 books, so there is also an educational component.
2) a Stride to Ride Dino Walker (currently $44.99 at Toys R US, but free shipping if you spend $49) because I know he will love, love, love it right now. (and we have the room and floors so he can ride it in the house during the winter)
and 3) a Disney music CD (cheaper new at Toys R Us) because he is fascinated with the CD player, "dances" in his car seat to music playing in the car and loves Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.
I hope they are all things that One Philly Son will enjoy and use often.
We might pick up a few more small things, and maybe I'll get some cute little things that he can dump out of his stocking on Christmas morning. But that's probably about it.
He still won't remember this Christmas, so I don't feel the need to "wow" him just yet. If one day, he's just set on something spectacular, and One Philly Daddy and I can swing it, I'd love to gift him that amazing gift
that he talks about years later as "the" Christmas. Every parent wants to provide that, don't they? But I don't think (who knows?, life evolves) I'll strive to provide a pile that can be literally be jumped into, like some of my childhood classmates got...
I guess I don't want to create the unhealthy expectation for One Philly Son that he will get everything he wants all the time. I believe this leads to the child not understanding the value of what they have and a sense of entitlement.
But at the same time, I understand the philosophy that childhood only happens once, and when is a better time to teach a child to wish, to dream, and to expect those wishes and dreams to come true?
So what's your gift philosophy? Do you let your child(ren) make unlimited lists and provide everything on it? Or limit their requests to a few items and only provide a small pile? Let me know your thoughts...
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Thanksgiving
I am grateful that most of my stresses and worries come from the problem of abundance. (If you are having a hard time seeing the abundance in your life, check this out. A good exercise in perspective.)
Too many choices - work or stay home with kids?, have kids or not? how many?, buy a house?, how big?, where? Public school or private?
Money for necessities and most of my reasonable wants - unlike a lot of people. Whether or not there was going to be food on my table this Thanksgiving was not a question. Neither was the heat.
My family and I are healthy enough that I can take it for granted sometimes, and not eat well or work out.
Free enough to criticize anyone, believe anything, decide what I want to be.
I have the luxury of a partner to help, when many do not.
My safety is not a concern, nor the safety of my family.
These are just the biggies, not to mention the apple pie I'll eat on Thursday, the beautiful weather headed our way this week, the new couches I'll be sitting on, etc, etc, etc....
Happy Thanksgiving...
Too many choices - work or stay home with kids?, have kids or not? how many?, buy a house?, how big?, where? Public school or private?
Money for necessities and most of my reasonable wants - unlike a lot of people. Whether or not there was going to be food on my table this Thanksgiving was not a question. Neither was the heat.
My family and I are healthy enough that I can take it for granted sometimes, and not eat well or work out.
Free enough to criticize anyone, believe anything, decide what I want to be.
I have the luxury of a partner to help, when many do not.
My safety is not a concern, nor the safety of my family.
These are just the biggies, not to mention the apple pie I'll eat on Thursday, the beautiful weather headed our way this week, the new couches I'll be sitting on, etc, etc, etc....
Happy Thanksgiving...
Sunday, November 21, 2010
It's about time...
One Philly Daddy and I did something yesterday we've been putting off for a long time. We've talked about it on and off for years and sometimes had very different opinions about whether or not to do it at all. Recently I said I'd never do it. And here we are.
We bought new couches.
Why we didn't:
1) The couches we had worked for years. They were hand-me-downs, but we were young, and they worked. In the beginning, I even liked them.
2) New furniture is, to me, crazy expensive. I'd rather save the money or take a vacation (And we have. A lot.).
3) We have two dogs, a cat and a baby/toddler. It seemed anything new would just get ruined in a few days anyway.
4) I was hoping to find something almost-new (better for the environment, my wallet, the world, plus - less heart break if the dogs/cat/kid make a mess).
Why we finally did:
1) The couches are no longer "working". I was beginning to be embarrassed. The couches had stains, so a few years ago I had them cleaned professionally (cheaper than new couches). Then they got more stains, and the cushions started to tear, so I bought slip covers (on sale, much cheaper than new couches. Plus, I had the benefit of being able to wash away any messes). Now, when anyone sits on the couch, the cushions slide out so far you end up with half a cushion suspended in air over the front of the couch, and a big gap of no cushion behind your butt. I spend a lot of time shoving the cushions back in place and brainstorming ideas of how to get them to stay put.
2) I was getting tired of being a hard working adult who can afford to pay cash for new couches, but continues to have a couch that looks straight out of a college dorm room.
3) I wanted to. Badly.
4) We searched all the "almost new" options, repeatedly, and found nothing.
What I learned:
1) The overriding concern for stains was probably not necessary. We purchased a sofa, chair and a half and an ottoman. And the fabric protection plan for all of them. For an additional $150, American Signature Furniture will clean any stains or tears from pet or human spill, bodily fluid or accident. If they can't get it out or fix it, they will replace the piece for 7 years. We'll see how well the actual delivery of this service is, but as One Philly Daddy put it, "if anyone needs this service, its us".
2) I already knew this one, but its always nice to see it in action: One Philly Daddy and I are legitimately concerned with each other's happiness. We refused to buy something we both didn't love (in style, color and price), which meant 9 stores in one day and a lot of communication, but I think we both love what we ended up with. (Correct me if I'm wrong honey..quick, before we pick up the new furniture!)
3) If I could get away with it, I would probably save every penny I earned besides necessities. Apartment (small, and pseudo-crappy is OK, just needs to be safe), car (ditto), food (nothing name brand, please!), a few social outings, and basic cable. Student loan payments and the rest sits in an account, for "just in case." But life is meant to be lived. And if I'm going to (and One Philly Daddy) work hard to excel at work and earn a good living, I should probably allow myself to enjoy a few nice things, once in awhile. I'm honestly excited for these stupid couches!
So, we did it. We didn't get anything fancy or expensive (We did visit one store having a 50% off sale, and everything was still twice our budget. Ouch.), but we like it, and we're happy. Plus, it should be here before Thanksgiving (which I am hosting)....and I won't be fixing cushions OR worrying about stains....now that's something to be grateful for!
We bought new couches.
Why we didn't:
1) The couches we had worked for years. They were hand-me-downs, but we were young, and they worked. In the beginning, I even liked them.
2) New furniture is, to me, crazy expensive. I'd rather save the money or take a vacation (And we have. A lot.).
3) We have two dogs, a cat and a baby/toddler. It seemed anything new would just get ruined in a few days anyway.
4) I was hoping to find something almost-new (better for the environment, my wallet, the world, plus - less heart break if the dogs/cat/kid make a mess).
Why we finally did:
1) The couches are no longer "working". I was beginning to be embarrassed. The couches had stains, so a few years ago I had them cleaned professionally (cheaper than new couches). Then they got more stains, and the cushions started to tear, so I bought slip covers (on sale, much cheaper than new couches. Plus, I had the benefit of being able to wash away any messes). Now, when anyone sits on the couch, the cushions slide out so far you end up with half a cushion suspended in air over the front of the couch, and a big gap of no cushion behind your butt. I spend a lot of time shoving the cushions back in place and brainstorming ideas of how to get them to stay put.
2) I was getting tired of being a hard working adult who can afford to pay cash for new couches, but continues to have a couch that looks straight out of a college dorm room.
3) I wanted to. Badly.
4) We searched all the "almost new" options, repeatedly, and found nothing.
What I learned:
1) The overriding concern for stains was probably not necessary. We purchased a sofa, chair and a half and an ottoman. And the fabric protection plan for all of them. For an additional $150, American Signature Furniture will clean any stains or tears from pet or human spill, bodily fluid or accident. If they can't get it out or fix it, they will replace the piece for 7 years. We'll see how well the actual delivery of this service is, but as One Philly Daddy put it, "if anyone needs this service, its us".
2) I already knew this one, but its always nice to see it in action: One Philly Daddy and I are legitimately concerned with each other's happiness. We refused to buy something we both didn't love (in style, color and price), which meant 9 stores in one day and a lot of communication, but I think we both love what we ended up with. (Correct me if I'm wrong honey..quick, before we pick up the new furniture!)
3) If I could get away with it, I would probably save every penny I earned besides necessities. Apartment (small, and pseudo-crappy is OK, just needs to be safe), car (ditto), food (nothing name brand, please!), a few social outings, and basic cable. Student loan payments and the rest sits in an account, for "just in case." But life is meant to be lived. And if I'm going to (and One Philly Daddy) work hard to excel at work and earn a good living, I should probably allow myself to enjoy a few nice things, once in awhile. I'm honestly excited for these stupid couches!
So, we did it. We didn't get anything fancy or expensive (We did visit one store having a 50% off sale, and everything was still twice our budget. Ouch.), but we like it, and we're happy. Plus, it should be here before Thanksgiving (which I am hosting)....and I won't be fixing cushions OR worrying about stains....now that's something to be grateful for!
Friday, November 19, 2010
I recently re-read Eat Pray Love because I loved the book, but also because I am so taken with this woman's journey to discover herself. It took courage for her to examine her inner-workings with such honesty.
I've always been into self-awareness and self-help-y type exercises, experiences, books and writings. I once exclaimed, without an ounce of sarcasm, "I love therapy!" I started going as part of my parent's divorce proceedings, and honestly, I guess it stuck. I wasn't consumed with the desire to escape or avoid what was going on in the world or within myself, I was consumed with the desire to understand. I felt it I just understood, I could take a different path.
What I've learned over the years is that actually understanding what goes on in the human mind is complicated and tricky. And understanding what goes on in your own mind is even more complicated. (Something about objectivity?)
But what a fascinating journey! (Admittedly, some of this therapy was in fact necessary at certain times in my life. I thank (insert name of your favorite deity here) for all those who helped when I needed it most.)
The desire to understand how and why you are who and what you are fascinates me. Admittedly, there are more social hobbies a girl can have, but this one has served me well, and I have to say, I cherish the journey I've taken.
It may go without saying that a fair amount of the work that I did was to educate myself so that I would not repeat certain patterns, certain legacies that should've died generations ago. I was going to be the broken link in that chain if it killed me.
I don't think I realized until I had my son just how scared I was of screwing it up. (And I knew I was plenty scared, but I think this was down-to-my-bones scared without even realizing it..)
The innocence and purity of childhood is the most reverent, sacred thing to me. I believe a child's trust, faith, heart and soul are the most important and valuable things that anyone can be entrusted with. The Hope Diamond is a cheap trinket compared to this. And I know that that sounds like a pretty big deal, but it does not begin to express the importance that I put on it.
And yes, a fair number of shrinks (I use this phrase with all fondness and respect) have informed me that this belief may in fact be a teensy-weensy bit too much pressure on any human being.
But of all the things to not f*ck up, this one seemed the most important.
And I'm gloriously proud, relieved, somewhat embarrassed (there were, ahem, a few people who told me all along I could, I just didn't believe them) to admit...I can do this.
I'm a decent Mom. It is by far my favorite role to date, and I revel in it. No, I won't do everything perfect. Yep, I'll mess somethings up. Yep, some of my hangups will unfortunately be visited upon my children. But I bet some of my grace, wisdom and strength will too...
A Yoga teacher/friend/truly fascinating person I know recently conducted a Yoga retreat in Mexico called "Letting Go" (oh my god, that's like three of my favorite things - yoga, Mexico, AND self help?!?!?! I love it!) and it got me to thinking, its time to really start putting down all that baggage I've carried around for so long.
My biggest, deepest fears have been proven wrong and I can stop arming myself against them.
What can you let go and put down?
I've always been into self-awareness and self-help-y type exercises, experiences, books and writings. I once exclaimed, without an ounce of sarcasm, "I love therapy!" I started going as part of my parent's divorce proceedings, and honestly, I guess it stuck. I wasn't consumed with the desire to escape or avoid what was going on in the world or within myself, I was consumed with the desire to understand. I felt it I just understood, I could take a different path.
What I've learned over the years is that actually understanding what goes on in the human mind is complicated and tricky. And understanding what goes on in your own mind is even more complicated. (Something about objectivity?)
But what a fascinating journey! (Admittedly, some of this therapy was in fact necessary at certain times in my life. I thank (insert name of your favorite deity here) for all those who helped when I needed it most.)
The desire to understand how and why you are who and what you are fascinates me. Admittedly, there are more social hobbies a girl can have, but this one has served me well, and I have to say, I cherish the journey I've taken.
It may go without saying that a fair amount of the work that I did was to educate myself so that I would not repeat certain patterns, certain legacies that should've died generations ago. I was going to be the broken link in that chain if it killed me.
I don't think I realized until I had my son just how scared I was of screwing it up. (And I knew I was plenty scared, but I think this was down-to-my-bones scared without even realizing it..)
The innocence and purity of childhood is the most reverent, sacred thing to me. I believe a child's trust, faith, heart and soul are the most important and valuable things that anyone can be entrusted with. The Hope Diamond is a cheap trinket compared to this. And I know that that sounds like a pretty big deal, but it does not begin to express the importance that I put on it.
And yes, a fair number of shrinks (I use this phrase with all fondness and respect) have informed me that this belief may in fact be a teensy-weensy bit too much pressure on any human being.
But of all the things to not f*ck up, this one seemed the most important.
And I'm gloriously proud, relieved, somewhat embarrassed (there were, ahem, a few people who told me all along I could, I just didn't believe them) to admit...I can do this.
I'm a decent Mom. It is by far my favorite role to date, and I revel in it. No, I won't do everything perfect. Yep, I'll mess somethings up. Yep, some of my hangups will unfortunately be visited upon my children. But I bet some of my grace, wisdom and strength will too...
A Yoga teacher/friend/truly fascinating person I know recently conducted a Yoga retreat in Mexico called "Letting Go" (oh my god, that's like three of my favorite things - yoga, Mexico, AND self help?!?!?! I love it!) and it got me to thinking, its time to really start putting down all that baggage I've carried around for so long.
My biggest, deepest fears have been proven wrong and I can stop arming myself against them.
What can you let go and put down?
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
We're just human after all...
So we've just returned from vacation to fabulous Mexico. One Philly Son was fabulous on the planes and loved, loved, loved the beaches and pools. Honestly this resort was wonderful for kids.
The staff adored him, going out of their way to say hello/hola, to talk to him, give him things to play with. There were plenty of activities that he was too young to do, but this resort would be great for kids of any age.
On our return flight there was a man who I assume is ill. He traveled in a wheel chair and his wife (I assume again) was carrying what appeared to be oxygen for him. I noticed he was wearing a hat that read "Cancer Sucks Team Bob". My assumptions continue to conclude that this man is sick, suffering from some form of cancer and that he and his wife took a trip together to spend some time out of hospitals and chemotherapy rooms. We happened to ride the elevator to the baggage claim together (a young boy in his stroller, a sick man in his wheelchair, enough to give anyone something to reflect on) and his wife's purse was open enough for me to see a pack of cigarettes.
I hope my mouth didn't gape open when I saw the cigarettes.
But it got me to thinking. My first reaction was how, even when we know the right thing to do, we don't always do it. Eating vegetables, working out, etc, etc, etc. I was a bit appalled at this woman. (Again, admittedly totally based on assumptions) Here is her husband bravely battling cancer and she's still SMOKING?!?!?! How dare she?!?!?!
But immediately after it got me to thinking about our humanity. Our flawed, imperfect, try as hard as we can and still not perfect, human selves. If my assumptions are correct, this couple could literally be fighting for their life together. I can not imagine the strain, fear, struggle or anything else they are going through. And, clearly, I have no idea of their story, situation, life or anything else. For all I know he sprained his ankle running on the beach and the oxygen was a fancy case of tequila.
Who the heck am I to judge based on what I think I saw?
The truth of the matter is, I don't know anything about that couple, other than that they smiled at my son in the elevator and rode on a plane back from Mexico with me.
So I'm embracing my imperfect humanity, embracing that I don't have all the answers (actually, I probably don't have any of them...) and patiently waiting for the answers to be revealed in their due time...
The staff adored him, going out of their way to say hello/hola, to talk to him, give him things to play with. There were plenty of activities that he was too young to do, but this resort would be great for kids of any age.
On our return flight there was a man who I assume is ill. He traveled in a wheel chair and his wife (I assume again) was carrying what appeared to be oxygen for him. I noticed he was wearing a hat that read "Cancer Sucks Team Bob". My assumptions continue to conclude that this man is sick, suffering from some form of cancer and that he and his wife took a trip together to spend some time out of hospitals and chemotherapy rooms. We happened to ride the elevator to the baggage claim together (a young boy in his stroller, a sick man in his wheelchair, enough to give anyone something to reflect on) and his wife's purse was open enough for me to see a pack of cigarettes.
I hope my mouth didn't gape open when I saw the cigarettes.
But it got me to thinking. My first reaction was how, even when we know the right thing to do, we don't always do it. Eating vegetables, working out, etc, etc, etc. I was a bit appalled at this woman. (Again, admittedly totally based on assumptions) Here is her husband bravely battling cancer and she's still SMOKING?!?!?! How dare she?!?!?!
But immediately after it got me to thinking about our humanity. Our flawed, imperfect, try as hard as we can and still not perfect, human selves. If my assumptions are correct, this couple could literally be fighting for their life together. I can not imagine the strain, fear, struggle or anything else they are going through. And, clearly, I have no idea of their story, situation, life or anything else. For all I know he sprained his ankle running on the beach and the oxygen was a fancy case of tequila.
Who the heck am I to judge based on what I think I saw?
The truth of the matter is, I don't know anything about that couple, other than that they smiled at my son in the elevator and rode on a plane back from Mexico with me.
So I'm embracing my imperfect humanity, embracing that I don't have all the answers (actually, I probably don't have any of them...) and patiently waiting for the answers to be revealed in their due time...
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Relaxed, for so many reasons!
The One Philly Family is mere hours away from a fabulous vacation in Mexico. The dog sitter is set up, the bags are packed, the laundry is done, we're almost ready to set the alarm for really-freakin-early-o'clock and we are ready to go!
Beyond that though, we've reached a real level of relaxation, acceptance and comfort. For example, I have been traveling with One Philly Daddy long enough to know he doesn't stress about it. He throws some stuff in a bag and goes. Even after repeated trips taught the same lesson (sort of. He never packs enough socks or t-shirts, we can never remember which), he doesn't stress. I stress about packing. Especially with One Philly Son. How many diapers are enough? Which toys will keep him happy on the plane?
And I also know that One Philly Daddy's stress will begin when we wake up tomorrow and won't end until we've passed security at the airport and are at the gate eating breakfast.
The point being, we've been together long enough to really know each other well enough to anticipate, expect, accept and roll with the things that stress each of us out.
And that is truly relaxing.
Beyond that though, we've reached a real level of relaxation, acceptance and comfort. For example, I have been traveling with One Philly Daddy long enough to know he doesn't stress about it. He throws some stuff in a bag and goes. Even after repeated trips taught the same lesson (sort of. He never packs enough socks or t-shirts, we can never remember which), he doesn't stress. I stress about packing. Especially with One Philly Son. How many diapers are enough? Which toys will keep him happy on the plane?
And I also know that One Philly Daddy's stress will begin when we wake up tomorrow and won't end until we've passed security at the airport and are at the gate eating breakfast.
The point being, we've been together long enough to really know each other well enough to anticipate, expect, accept and roll with the things that stress each of us out.
And that is truly relaxing.
Monday, November 8, 2010
I don't know....Daddy?
I have a confession to make. I've had a very (sub-conscious) narrow-minded view of Daddy's.
Yes, my own father was not an award winning father, but he was certainly not the only man in my life. So, for whatever reason, I assumed that Fatherhood (dun-dun-dun) was an experience fraught with a overwhelming sense of obligation, duty, responsibility, pressure, and financial worry. I suspected Father's (always with a capital F, of course, this is serious business!) looked at their children and felt a sense of dread at the weight of overwhelming responsibility. How yuck!
I (wrongfully) presumed that it was only the Mother's who were nurturing, and caring. I presumed only the Mommy's got that sense of pride just looking at their child sleep or watching him/her walk, read, play, laugh, eat. I thought only Mommy's experienced the joy of parenthood.
Was I ever wrong!
I'm not entirely sure where I got this uber flawed idea, because I had a variety of male influences, many who did not fit the mold of the stressed out, resentful Daddy.
Sure, my grandfather is a dyed in the wool, old-school Marine, who I can remember rarely showing affection to my grandmother, but I also grew up with a neighbor, who's mere existence I'm pretty sure saved my life.
This neighbor is an elderly Irish Catholic man who never married, but always loved children. When my home was chaotic, loud, scary, and unpredictable, his was quiet, safe, welcoming and sometimes provided the most basic necessities - shelter and food. He hung a "Happy Birthday" banner in his kitchen window so we could see it as we ate our breakfast for years, and took us to Friendly's for a Conehead Sundae on our special day. He helped us with school projects, work applications, college essays. He always believed in us by never doubting us.
Beyond Pop-pop and my neighbor, I've known father's of friends who were their confidantes and biggest fans, I've known strict Dad's and lenient Dad's, rich Dad's and poor Dad's, loving Dad's and distant Dad's, all kinds of Dad's. So I've observed all kinds, I just got it stuck in my head somehow that none of them really enjoyed being a Dad. I mean, I knew lots of Dad's who were good Dad's, it just never occurred to me that they liked being a Dad. How sad, right? (For me and them.)
Since I've become a Mom, I've noticed more and more that there are loads of Daddy's who dote on, adore, protect, provide for, and yes, feel joy and pride when just looking at their children. There are loads of men who excel at being Daddy's and enjoy it. (One Philly Daddy being one of them.)
I'm a little embarrassed that I had that assumption for so long without even realizing it, but I gotta say, I've never been so happy to be so wrong. And guys, you Daddy's out there doing a great job and loving it, sorry I so underestimated you. Keep up the great Daddy-ing!
Yes, my own father was not an award winning father, but he was certainly not the only man in my life. So, for whatever reason, I assumed that Fatherhood (dun-dun-dun) was an experience fraught with a overwhelming sense of obligation, duty, responsibility, pressure, and financial worry. I suspected Father's (always with a capital F, of course, this is serious business!) looked at their children and felt a sense of dread at the weight of overwhelming responsibility. How yuck!
I (wrongfully) presumed that it was only the Mother's who were nurturing, and caring. I presumed only the Mommy's got that sense of pride just looking at their child sleep or watching him/her walk, read, play, laugh, eat. I thought only Mommy's experienced the joy of parenthood.
Was I ever wrong!
I'm not entirely sure where I got this uber flawed idea, because I had a variety of male influences, many who did not fit the mold of the stressed out, resentful Daddy.
Sure, my grandfather is a dyed in the wool, old-school Marine, who I can remember rarely showing affection to my grandmother, but I also grew up with a neighbor, who's mere existence I'm pretty sure saved my life.
This neighbor is an elderly Irish Catholic man who never married, but always loved children. When my home was chaotic, loud, scary, and unpredictable, his was quiet, safe, welcoming and sometimes provided the most basic necessities - shelter and food. He hung a "Happy Birthday" banner in his kitchen window so we could see it as we ate our breakfast for years, and took us to Friendly's for a Conehead Sundae on our special day. He helped us with school projects, work applications, college essays. He always believed in us by never doubting us.
Beyond Pop-pop and my neighbor, I've known father's of friends who were their confidantes and biggest fans, I've known strict Dad's and lenient Dad's, rich Dad's and poor Dad's, loving Dad's and distant Dad's, all kinds of Dad's. So I've observed all kinds, I just got it stuck in my head somehow that none of them really enjoyed being a Dad. I mean, I knew lots of Dad's who were good Dad's, it just never occurred to me that they liked being a Dad. How sad, right? (For me and them.)
Since I've become a Mom, I've noticed more and more that there are loads of Daddy's who dote on, adore, protect, provide for, and yes, feel joy and pride when just looking at their children. There are loads of men who excel at being Daddy's and enjoy it. (One Philly Daddy being one of them.)
I'm a little embarrassed that I had that assumption for so long without even realizing it, but I gotta say, I've never been so happy to be so wrong. And guys, you Daddy's out there doing a great job and loving it, sorry I so underestimated you. Keep up the great Daddy-ing!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Date night at the Sixers...
Tonight, One Philly Daddy and I are headed out for date night! Woohoo! We're headed to a Sixers game, which is cool. But not as cool as 5 or 6 hours of just the two of us. We could paint a kitchen, do laundry, rake the leaves, head to the city for a show and fancy dinner and we'd still have a great time. We've done lots of cool things, but some of our greatest times are really spent doing nothing, just time with each other.
I love that One Philly Daddy and I can always talk, even about difficult tasks, and we do our best to respect each other's opinion, even when we disagree. He truly is my best friend and I love to just be around him. He's got lots of the traits I wish I had, which makes him my perfect complement.
So I expect I'll have a great time, even though I probably won't know who the Sixers are playing, or even what the score is...
I love that One Philly Daddy and I can always talk, even about difficult tasks, and we do our best to respect each other's opinion, even when we disagree. He truly is my best friend and I love to just be around him. He's got lots of the traits I wish I had, which makes him my perfect complement.
So I expect I'll have a great time, even though I probably won't know who the Sixers are playing, or even what the score is...
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
The accountant and the hippie...
Oh brother. Maybe I shouldn't have said out loud I'd made a decision (even without sharing or executing said decision).
I'm even MORE excited to get going today. I've got plans, BIG plans!
The smart, grown-up, fiscally responsible side of my brain is speaking very slowly, in a serious tone, and is wearing glasses and a tweed jacket.
It says to me "Wait, just a little while longer. This is the smart thing to do. Your dreams will be there."
The New Age, gut and heart following side of my brain is making a face like she just ate something really sour and is rolling her eyes a little bit.
"Seriously? Life is short, get out there and do it already!" She says.
Now the smart, grown up side of my brain turns to the gut-heart following side and says "But what if...." and then trails off in an ominous way, like we couldn't even imagine what may happen if we foolishly run off into the night, following our dreams without a thought in mind.
And, just to up the ante, the gut-heart following side says, very calmly and serenely, "yes, what if?" Implying, of course, that worse than any horrible thing the smart side imagined, is not doing what makes you happy.
Honestly, its kind of amusing. Because, the smart side and the heart-gut side (which sounds kinda gross right now!) have to live together. Like a lot of good marriages and friendships, there is a saver and a spender, a do-whatever-I-feel-like-er and someone seriously planning for the future.
Neither is right or wrong. Neither is good or bad. They both have strong, valid arguments, and they both have down-falls and disadvantages if followed too closely to the letter.
So here I sit, imagining an accountant and a hippie battling it out in my head and in my heart, sure that at the end they'll both say "See. I told you I was right."
I'm even MORE excited to get going today. I've got plans, BIG plans!
The smart, grown-up, fiscally responsible side of my brain is speaking very slowly, in a serious tone, and is wearing glasses and a tweed jacket.
It says to me "Wait, just a little while longer. This is the smart thing to do. Your dreams will be there."
The New Age, gut and heart following side of my brain is making a face like she just ate something really sour and is rolling her eyes a little bit.
"Seriously? Life is short, get out there and do it already!" She says.
Now the smart, grown up side of my brain turns to the gut-heart following side and says "But what if...." and then trails off in an ominous way, like we couldn't even imagine what may happen if we foolishly run off into the night, following our dreams without a thought in mind.
And, just to up the ante, the gut-heart following side says, very calmly and serenely, "yes, what if?" Implying, of course, that worse than any horrible thing the smart side imagined, is not doing what makes you happy.
Honestly, its kind of amusing. Because, the smart side and the heart-gut side (which sounds kinda gross right now!) have to live together. Like a lot of good marriages and friendships, there is a saver and a spender, a do-whatever-I-feel-like-er and someone seriously planning for the future.
Neither is right or wrong. Neither is good or bad. They both have strong, valid arguments, and they both have down-falls and disadvantages if followed too closely to the letter.
So here I sit, imagining an accountant and a hippie battling it out in my head and in my heart, sure that at the end they'll both say "See. I told you I was right."
Monday, November 1, 2010
Stuck on a hamster wheel, but only temporarily...
I've made a decision. I'm excited, nervous, and eager for the changes this decision will bring.
But I'm not ready to execute. Well, that's not true. I'm ready to execute. But its not time yet. Responsibility, logic and my head are all 100% on the side of waiting a little longer.
But I spent a long time being a list making, a "right" decision maker. I did the right thing, the smart thing, the thing that made sense on paper, added up to the smart thing. And then my life took a serious nose dive. Fiancee dumped me. Serious health problems for my brother. Serious legal and family problems for my sister. Trauma to my niece. Got fired. In like 18 months. No job, alone, scared for those I loved.
And I decided (realized, learned, whatever) with the help of some serious soul searching and hours of heart to hearts with good friends, that life is not lived on paper. The smart thing on paper is not what's really right, and the gut (however flawed and imprecise) is sometimes smarter than the brain.
So I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that my gut and heart are behind this decision. I'm not questioning that. But the brain is pulling in the reins a little bit. And that is creating some frustration. I feel like I'm denying myself my heart's desire. And I know the heart does not like to be denied.
The frustration (unfortunately for One Philly Daddy, who gets the brunt of it) leads to crankiness and eating a little too much Halloween candy. But its also very reassuring. There's no confusion or doubt here. I know what I want. And I'm going to get it. And that will be great.
But I'm not ready to execute. Well, that's not true. I'm ready to execute. But its not time yet. Responsibility, logic and my head are all 100% on the side of waiting a little longer.
But I spent a long time being a list making, a "right" decision maker. I did the right thing, the smart thing, the thing that made sense on paper, added up to the smart thing. And then my life took a serious nose dive. Fiancee dumped me. Serious health problems for my brother. Serious legal and family problems for my sister. Trauma to my niece. Got fired. In like 18 months. No job, alone, scared for those I loved.
And I decided (realized, learned, whatever) with the help of some serious soul searching and hours of heart to hearts with good friends, that life is not lived on paper. The smart thing on paper is not what's really right, and the gut (however flawed and imprecise) is sometimes smarter than the brain.
So I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that my gut and heart are behind this decision. I'm not questioning that. But the brain is pulling in the reins a little bit. And that is creating some frustration. I feel like I'm denying myself my heart's desire. And I know the heart does not like to be denied.
The frustration (unfortunately for One Philly Daddy, who gets the brunt of it) leads to crankiness and eating a little too much Halloween candy. But its also very reassuring. There's no confusion or doubt here. I know what I want. And I'm going to get it. And that will be great.
Friday, October 29, 2010
I just got an email at work, telling us that a co-worker (in another Region, someone I do not personally know) has a son, who went from a seemingly healthy 6 year old boy, to a boy battling a cancerous tumor in his brain in a matter of days.
It is one of those scary stories that we all believe happens to "someone else" but all fear might be us. It started with some vision problems, and with a few short days this woman and her family had been sent hundreds of miles away for hopefully life-saving treatment. It is telling that she shares that one of the doctor knows of "a" patient diagnosed with the same tumor in 1999 who is still alive, but its not the "normal".
Yikes.
Talk about a reminder that life is short, and to make the most of it.
My co-worker, the Mom of this boy, writes with optimism and hope and faith. She speaks of her boy being unchanged in the face of treatments and having his life completely uprooted. She is going to fight, go to the ends of the Earth, do everything and more to save his life.
She will probably fail.
I'm not being a downer, but statistically speaking, he will probably not make it. And this brings me to tears. I don't know this woman, I don't know her son. I can only guess the fear and anguish I would feel if I were in her position.
So I'll send hope and love and faith, and donate some of my sick time for my colleague to use, if my company permits it.
And I'll take the lesson to heart, and focus on moving toward my dreams, the things that bring me joy, the things I know in my soul to be important.
And do my best to let the rest of it go.
Little Foster, my prayers and hope and love are with you, your family, your doctors and nurses. You can do this, buddy, you can do this.
It is one of those scary stories that we all believe happens to "someone else" but all fear might be us. It started with some vision problems, and with a few short days this woman and her family had been sent hundreds of miles away for hopefully life-saving treatment. It is telling that she shares that one of the doctor knows of "a" patient diagnosed with the same tumor in 1999 who is still alive, but its not the "normal".
Yikes.
Talk about a reminder that life is short, and to make the most of it.
My co-worker, the Mom of this boy, writes with optimism and hope and faith. She speaks of her boy being unchanged in the face of treatments and having his life completely uprooted. She is going to fight, go to the ends of the Earth, do everything and more to save his life.
She will probably fail.
I'm not being a downer, but statistically speaking, he will probably not make it. And this brings me to tears. I don't know this woman, I don't know her son. I can only guess the fear and anguish I would feel if I were in her position.
So I'll send hope and love and faith, and donate some of my sick time for my colleague to use, if my company permits it.
And I'll take the lesson to heart, and focus on moving toward my dreams, the things that bring me joy, the things I know in my soul to be important.
And do my best to let the rest of it go.
Little Foster, my prayers and hope and love are with you, your family, your doctors and nurses. You can do this, buddy, you can do this.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
I recently reflected on some of my attitudes, statements and feelings during pregnancy and early motherhood, when I felt that I needed to work to maintain my sense of self and contribution to the family.
Here are some of the things I realized:
1) Everything changes. In one short year the way I describe success, happiness, financial security, family and more has changed.
2) Motherhood is a lot more rewarding / time intensive / hands on / demanding / satisfying than I anticipated. One Philly Son is currently fascinated with doors. Open. Close. For half an hour. And forks and spoons. He will smash a roll with a fork for 20 minutes given the opportunity. I see these now as learning experiences and I want to indulge his exploration of the world and the things that fascinate him. This takes time. Lots of time.
3) I enjoy motherhood more than I thought I would. And I've always wanted and loved children. But I was unprepared for the depth of it. For me, it truly has redefined me.
4) Time has become more valuable than money, and it is not unlimited.
At the end of my maternity leave I considered returning to work early. I was bored. 2 month old's don't do much more than eat, sleep, mess up a diaper, repeat. Now, when I am away from One Philly Son, I feel like I am missing something truly important.
5) When I was pregnant, I worked very hard (especially at work), so that I could convince everyone, even myself, that nothing would change. I couldn't have been more wrong. In the future, I would take even better care of myself and be less concerned with other's opinions of me.
6) A happy house and family are more important than a fancy or even a clean house.
Here are some of the things I realized:
1) Everything changes. In one short year the way I describe success, happiness, financial security, family and more has changed.
2) Motherhood is a lot more rewarding / time intensive / hands on / demanding / satisfying than I anticipated. One Philly Son is currently fascinated with doors. Open. Close. For half an hour. And forks and spoons. He will smash a roll with a fork for 20 minutes given the opportunity. I see these now as learning experiences and I want to indulge his exploration of the world and the things that fascinate him. This takes time. Lots of time.
3) I enjoy motherhood more than I thought I would. And I've always wanted and loved children. But I was unprepared for the depth of it. For me, it truly has redefined me.
4) Time has become more valuable than money, and it is not unlimited.
At the end of my maternity leave I considered returning to work early. I was bored. 2 month old's don't do much more than eat, sleep, mess up a diaper, repeat. Now, when I am away from One Philly Son, I feel like I am missing something truly important.
5) When I was pregnant, I worked very hard (especially at work), so that I could convince everyone, even myself, that nothing would change. I couldn't have been more wrong. In the future, I would take even better care of myself and be less concerned with other's opinions of me.
6) A happy house and family are more important than a fancy or even a clean house.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Baby in Mexico
Ok, in a little more than 2 weeks we are headed to Mexico for a family vacation. With One Philly Son.
Originally I had some apprehension about traveling to a foreign country with a 15 month old in my lap, but now I am super-duper pumped.
One Philly Daddy and I have been to Mexico almost every year since we started dating (we skipped the year we were saving for our wedding, a worthy cause for sure!) and sometimes sneak in 2 visits a year. Our favorite is Playa del Carmen
.
Its a little less tourist-y than Cancun, and the crowd is a little more mature, if you know what I mean....(our first trip was to Blue Bay Getaway, an adults only resort. Fun, but eventually we decided we wanted to witness Mexican culture, cuisine, locals, art, history,etc instead of just, you know, horny travelers.
Anyway, this trip we're going the All-Inclusive route, which seemed to be cost effective, and simple, since we're traveling with a child.
The resort we're going to sounds AMAZING! The beach gets the greatest reviews, and since One Philly Son is all about waves and is going to love it. Some of our concerns about the timing of the trip were One Philly Son's eating habits and walking ability, but like most things in life, its all working out beautifully.
He looks at me like I'm ridiculous if I cut up his banana in small slices (and then quartered to be safe), so now I just give him a chunk of banana and he does great. He can also handle sliced cheese (even Sharp Cheddar, go figure) and assorted other things.
Today we went to Trader Joe's and they have kid-sized grocery carts. I decided he wasn't "ready", but in the course of grabbing only a few things, he wanted to get out of the seat in the big cart, and did in fact end up pushing the big cart around the store (much to the amusement of the other shoppers).
So Mexico, here we come! Baby and all!
Originally I had some apprehension about traveling to a foreign country with a 15 month old in my lap, but now I am super-duper pumped.
One Philly Daddy and I have been to Mexico almost every year since we started dating (we skipped the year we were saving for our wedding, a worthy cause for sure!) and sometimes sneak in 2 visits a year. Our favorite is Playa del Carmen
. Its a little less tourist-y than Cancun, and the crowd is a little more mature, if you know what I mean....(our first trip was to Blue Bay Getaway, an adults only resort. Fun, but eventually we decided we wanted to witness Mexican culture, cuisine, locals, art, history,etc instead of just, you know, horny travelers.
Anyway, this trip we're going the All-Inclusive route, which seemed to be cost effective, and simple, since we're traveling with a child.
The resort we're going to sounds AMAZING! The beach gets the greatest reviews, and since One Philly Son is all about waves and is going to love it. Some of our concerns about the timing of the trip were One Philly Son's eating habits and walking ability, but like most things in life, its all working out beautifully.
He looks at me like I'm ridiculous if I cut up his banana in small slices (and then quartered to be safe), so now I just give him a chunk of banana and he does great. He can also handle sliced cheese (even Sharp Cheddar, go figure) and assorted other things.
Today we went to Trader Joe's and they have kid-sized grocery carts. I decided he wasn't "ready", but in the course of grabbing only a few things, he wanted to get out of the seat in the big cart, and did in fact end up pushing the big cart around the store (much to the amusement of the other shoppers).
So Mexico, here we come! Baby and all!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Now that I'm a mommy (and loving it!),something peculiar is happening to my body.
My arms, biceps specifically, are strong, tight, maybe even big! And I don't lift! Oh, wait, there is that 22lb squirming bundle of love that I lift, press, dance, swing,and otherwise lug around...I guess that counts!
The belly, however, is getting rounder and softer by the moment. I still fit in my clothes and I've never had "abs" but toned is NOT a word I'd use!
The good and bad news is I'm not really fretting too much. Yes, I know I should be excercising more and eating better. I even want too. But my favorite method of self-motivation used to be self-trashing along the lines of "you are so fat" (I wasn't, I was just mean.) or something along those lines...
So, I'm hunting for a new form of self-motivation. I'm aiming to teach my
kid healthy habits that include excercise, vegetables, AND NO self-trashing!!!
My arms, biceps specifically, are strong, tight, maybe even big! And I don't lift! Oh, wait, there is that 22lb squirming bundle of love that I lift, press, dance, swing,and otherwise lug around...I guess that counts!
The belly, however, is getting rounder and softer by the moment. I still fit in my clothes and I've never had "abs" but toned is NOT a word I'd use!
The good and bad news is I'm not really fretting too much. Yes, I know I should be excercising more and eating better. I even want too. But my favorite method of self-motivation used to be self-trashing along the lines of "you are so fat" (I wasn't, I was just mean.) or something along those lines...
So, I'm hunting for a new form of self-motivation. I'm aiming to teach my
kid healthy habits that include excercise, vegetables, AND NO self-trashing!!!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Dancing with the Devil
This weekend I attended my cousin's wedding.
On the surface that seems like a pretty simple thing, but she is my father's sister's daughter. While my father's family remained amazingly present and generous in my life following my parent's 4 year acrimonious divorce, I have had only limited contact with my father since I was 12. (that means I've not talked to him for longer than he was in my life, by a long shot)
His influence on my life was pretty twisted and unhealthy, so I expected to feel anxious, nervous, perhaps even afraid when actually in the same room with him. My strongest feeling was that under no circumstances would One Philly Son be in the same room as my father, but beyond that I wasn't experiencing much stress or worry leading up to the wedding.
Once at the wedding, it became apparent that my father is old, tired and rung out by life. He appeared to be tired, afraid and unhappy.
Breaking the cycles of abuse, undiagnosed and untreated mental illness and poor emotional coping skills takes a lot of crying, work, soul searching and facing the ugliest truths.
I am proud and honored to know many people who have taken that journey and aided me on mine.
What I faced when looking at my father was a man losing that fight, not a monster who could terrorize. What I saw was a man run by his demons instead of facing them. What I saw frightened me because it is only by the grace of something much larger than myself that I do not look like him. Sad and dead in the eyes, with fear and lonliness.
He and his current wife and children only lasted a short time through the reception. My heart breaks for how that family felt that night. Family members told me he doesn't talk to anyone but his sister (who is a truly amazing person).
I thought I might feel fear or anger even, but I felt pity, relief (that my path went a different way) and compassion.
His actions make it impossible, senseless, unhealthy and dangerous to my well being for me to interact with him, but as a fellow human observer, I know he is in pain and unhappy. And I wish his journey was different.
On the surface that seems like a pretty simple thing, but she is my father's sister's daughter. While my father's family remained amazingly present and generous in my life following my parent's 4 year acrimonious divorce, I have had only limited contact with my father since I was 12. (that means I've not talked to him for longer than he was in my life, by a long shot)
His influence on my life was pretty twisted and unhealthy, so I expected to feel anxious, nervous, perhaps even afraid when actually in the same room with him. My strongest feeling was that under no circumstances would One Philly Son be in the same room as my father, but beyond that I wasn't experiencing much stress or worry leading up to the wedding.
Once at the wedding, it became apparent that my father is old, tired and rung out by life. He appeared to be tired, afraid and unhappy.
Breaking the cycles of abuse, undiagnosed and untreated mental illness and poor emotional coping skills takes a lot of crying, work, soul searching and facing the ugliest truths.
I am proud and honored to know many people who have taken that journey and aided me on mine.
What I faced when looking at my father was a man losing that fight, not a monster who could terrorize. What I saw was a man run by his demons instead of facing them. What I saw frightened me because it is only by the grace of something much larger than myself that I do not look like him. Sad and dead in the eyes, with fear and lonliness.
He and his current wife and children only lasted a short time through the reception. My heart breaks for how that family felt that night. Family members told me he doesn't talk to anyone but his sister (who is a truly amazing person).
I thought I might feel fear or anger even, but I felt pity, relief (that my path went a different way) and compassion.
His actions make it impossible, senseless, unhealthy and dangerous to my well being for me to interact with him, but as a fellow human observer, I know he is in pain and unhappy. And I wish his journey was different.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Well, its official, we have a walker!
One Philly Son started walking last week, to the complete delight to his father and I. He's not proficient as of yet, but it is THE coolest thing to glance over and see One Philly Son standing, completely on his own, in front of his Fridge Farm.
Or to see him turn from the couch and walk to the table to get his chalk or car or chase the dogs.
We've said before that he's not a "baby" anymore, but a "kid" or "toddler."
It is true what they say, that time goes fast, so fast and too fast when watching your child grow up.
One Philly Son started walking last week, to the complete delight to his father and I. He's not proficient as of yet, but it is THE coolest thing to glance over and see One Philly Son standing, completely on his own, in front of his Fridge Farm.
Or to see him turn from the couch and walk to the table to get his chalk or car or chase the dogs. We've said before that he's not a "baby" anymore, but a "kid" or "toddler."
It is true what they say, that time goes fast, so fast and too fast when watching your child grow up.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
I just did something a little out of character.
First, let me set the scene...One Philly Son is playing with his activity table, one of those with the play telephone. And he is SCREAMING. He's frustrated because he can't get the phone to his ear, because the string is too short. (I realize a longer string would be a hazard to young kids, but it was really ticking off my kid!)
I'm generally a "change yourself to life's circumstances" kind of person, but I am beginning to see the value of changing life to fit your needs.
So I did the first thing that came to mind.
I cut the damn string!
One Philly Son is loving his toy and for some reason I am feeling a bit freer today.
First, let me set the scene...One Philly Son is playing with his activity table, one of those with the play telephone. And he is SCREAMING. He's frustrated because he can't get the phone to his ear, because the string is too short. (I realize a longer string would be a hazard to young kids, but it was really ticking off my kid!)
I'm generally a "change yourself to life's circumstances" kind of person, but I am beginning to see the value of changing life to fit your needs.
So I did the first thing that came to mind.
I cut the damn string!
One Philly Son is loving his toy and for some reason I am feeling a bit freer today.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
It is recommended to wean a child off the bottle and to sippy cups at a year. Prolonged use of bottles can lead to cavities and tooth decay.
But One Philly Son, at a whopping 13 months, is still using his bottles, in addition to sippy cups. I mentioned this to a fellow Mommy recently and she said "you just have to put them away, get rid of them"
How wise, how simple!
And it occurred to me that this is probably good advice in many of life's situations. Of course we've all heard varying forms, but I guess I just needed to hear it one more time.
So today, One Philly Son and I took a trip to BsbiesRUs and bought 8 sippy cups, as well as a Gerber suction plate and utensil set, a pumpkin sweatshirt, and training toothpaste. Luckily Sesame Street (and some other) sippy cups were buy one get one half off. Also good was the gift cards we'd recieved for One Philly Son's birthday...
I've boxed what bottles are clean and rearranged the kitchen cabinets yet again. I remember arranging these cabinets when it was just One Philly Daddy and I. I remember packing up
frivolous things like our wine, margarita and pilsner glasses to make room for bottles. And someday soon I'll need to move something out to make room for something else.
But One Philly Son, at a whopping 13 months, is still using his bottles, in addition to sippy cups. I mentioned this to a fellow Mommy recently and she said "you just have to put them away, get rid of them"
How wise, how simple!
And it occurred to me that this is probably good advice in many of life's situations. Of course we've all heard varying forms, but I guess I just needed to hear it one more time.
So today, One Philly Son and I took a trip to BsbiesRUs and bought 8 sippy cups, as well as a Gerber suction plate and utensil set, a pumpkin sweatshirt, and training toothpaste. Luckily Sesame Street (and some other) sippy cups were buy one get one half off. Also good was the gift cards we'd recieved for One Philly Son's birthday...
I've boxed what bottles are clean and rearranged the kitchen cabinets yet again. I remember arranging these cabinets when it was just One Philly Daddy and I. I remember packing up
frivolous things like our wine, margarita and pilsner glasses to make room for bottles. And someday soon I'll need to move something out to make room for something else.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Learning not to compare at storytime...
I recently attended Storytime at my local library.
(Sidenote: Many, if not most or all libraries offer free story times for various age groups. If you are a stay-at-home-Mom/Dad or just have some time during the day - I've found they are scheduled on weekdays most of the time - its a worthwhile experience.)
Storytime is great. My local library coordinates it by age, so One Philly Son is in a group with children his age, doing activities that are appropriate (read: short and exciting - you know, anything to keep their attention) for his age group.
And while I was there it dawned on me #1 how easy it is to get into the game of comparing our kids, ourselves, etc #2 how dangerous comparing can be, and #3 how pointless comparing is.
I saw a Mom and Son at storytime who I'd run into in the past. And immediately began the mental checklist. Her son is taller, more verbal, and walking. Heck, he even has more teeth and hair than One Philly Son. Geez! So I immediately switch to the is she working or staying at home? line of thinking. Maybe because she's home she has more time/money to talk/teach/sing up for classes/whatever with her son? And that's why he's, what, taller?
What exactly was I trying to figure out?
So it became pretty clear to me pretty quickly that this sort of comparison is silly and pointless. I know nothing more about her than her son's name and his approximate age. I have no idea where she's from, whether she works or stays home, if she's married, where she lives, how she lives, etc, etc, etc.
So what the heck am I doing trying to figure out if she's better than me or if I'm better than her? Cause really, what other reason is there to compare all that stuff? Clothes, car, house - who's is bigger or nicer? Husband, kids, dogs - who's are better looking and better behaved? Body, hair, face - who's is skinnier and prettier?
Well, I'm gonna tell ya, none of that s**t matters! Because, as we all know, none of that is what's important!
What do you think of your life? Not as it compares to someone else's, just yours. It may be interesting to compare to the dreams you had for your life, or what you're striving for your life to be, as sort of an interesting comparison. But really, no comparison makes sense. Because it'll never be apples to apples, you'll always be comparing your bruised apples to your perception of someone else's perfect oranges. (or vice versa, but you get the idea)
So today, don't worry about how you stack up to someone else.
(Sidenote: Many, if not most or all libraries offer free story times for various age groups. If you are a stay-at-home-Mom/Dad or just have some time during the day - I've found they are scheduled on weekdays most of the time - its a worthwhile experience.)
Storytime is great. My local library coordinates it by age, so One Philly Son is in a group with children his age, doing activities that are appropriate (read: short and exciting - you know, anything to keep their attention) for his age group.
And while I was there it dawned on me #1 how easy it is to get into the game of comparing our kids, ourselves, etc #2 how dangerous comparing can be, and #3 how pointless comparing is.
I saw a Mom and Son at storytime who I'd run into in the past. And immediately began the mental checklist. Her son is taller, more verbal, and walking. Heck, he even has more teeth and hair than One Philly Son. Geez! So I immediately switch to the is she working or staying at home? line of thinking. Maybe because she's home she has more time/money to talk/teach/sing up for classes/whatever with her son? And that's why he's, what, taller?
What exactly was I trying to figure out?
So it became pretty clear to me pretty quickly that this sort of comparison is silly and pointless. I know nothing more about her than her son's name and his approximate age. I have no idea where she's from, whether she works or stays home, if she's married, where she lives, how she lives, etc, etc, etc.
So what the heck am I doing trying to figure out if she's better than me or if I'm better than her? Cause really, what other reason is there to compare all that stuff? Clothes, car, house - who's is bigger or nicer? Husband, kids, dogs - who's are better looking and better behaved? Body, hair, face - who's is skinnier and prettier?
Well, I'm gonna tell ya, none of that s**t matters! Because, as we all know, none of that is what's important!
What do you think of your life? Not as it compares to someone else's, just yours. It may be interesting to compare to the dreams you had for your life, or what you're striving for your life to be, as sort of an interesting comparison. But really, no comparison makes sense. Because it'll never be apples to apples, you'll always be comparing your bruised apples to your perception of someone else's perfect oranges. (or vice versa, but you get the idea)
So today, don't worry about how you stack up to someone else.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Adventures in working from home...
Since I work from home three days a week (lucky me!), One Philly Son is quite accustomed to laptops, files, papers and the like.
In fact, when I pull out my laptop in the morning, he squeals with delight. The changing colors of the start up process are just about the most amusing thing he's ever seen. Emails are also exciting, even though I know he wishes I'd just let him have it on the mouse and keyboard. But seeing as they are the property of my employer and not my personal equipment, I don't think that's going to happen (even though I'm sure they have an insurance policy for this kind of thing).
He also loves pulling pens out of my bag, which gives me visions (or nightmares) of Emergency Room visits with injured eyes, so I try to keep the pens out of reach.
But today, he discovered the small pocket holding my business cards. These small, perfect one-year-old-hand-sized pieces of thick paper were thrown, tossed, bent, folded, pulled and pushed in and out of my bag. Such joy!
Which of course means my business cards are now a pile of crumbled, but well loved, pieces of paper. Since there is a merger in process at work, I imagine these business cards will be soon obsolete, as we order all new supplies with our new and improved name.
I still think we got our money's worth out of my supply!
In fact, when I pull out my laptop in the morning, he squeals with delight. The changing colors of the start up process are just about the most amusing thing he's ever seen. Emails are also exciting, even though I know he wishes I'd just let him have it on the mouse and keyboard. But seeing as they are the property of my employer and not my personal equipment, I don't think that's going to happen (even though I'm sure they have an insurance policy for this kind of thing).
He also loves pulling pens out of my bag, which gives me visions (or nightmares) of Emergency Room visits with injured eyes, so I try to keep the pens out of reach.
But today, he discovered the small pocket holding my business cards. These small, perfect one-year-old-hand-sized pieces of thick paper were thrown, tossed, bent, folded, pulled and pushed in and out of my bag. Such joy!
Which of course means my business cards are now a pile of crumbled, but well loved, pieces of paper. Since there is a merger in process at work, I imagine these business cards will be soon obsolete, as we order all new supplies with our new and improved name.
I still think we got our money's worth out of my supply!
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Passing time....
The weather is turning decidedly Fall, which is a nice respite after a Summer of 95 degree days, phew!
The changing seasons are a great reminder of the passage of time, and time certainly flies once you have kids.
I just busted out the next size of baby clothes (which I don't think I can legitimately call "baby" clothes anymore. Toddler, little man, kid, not-yet-verbal-but-definitely-has-his-own-mind-person yes. "Baby" - no) and I can't help but think that just one year ago One Philly Son was barely holding up his own head.
Now he's crawling, nearly walking, feeding himself real food, chasing the dogs around the house and certainly becoming his own person.
Everyone says time goes too fast with kids, that you never have enough time, that they grow up so fast. And this is one in a long line of things that I agreed with and understood but also had no comprehension of until I actually lived through it.
I'm not being emotional or sentimental, but realistic and honest when I say that in "no" time at all One Philly Son will be headed to pre-school, school, middle school, and on and on and on.
The time that I have with this perfect little being is short, so short, and I intend to make the best of every minute we've got.
The changing seasons are a great reminder of the passage of time, and time certainly flies once you have kids.
I just busted out the next size of baby clothes (which I don't think I can legitimately call "baby" clothes anymore. Toddler, little man, kid, not-yet-verbal-but-definitely-has-his-own-mind-person yes. "Baby" - no) and I can't help but think that just one year ago One Philly Son was barely holding up his own head.
Now he's crawling, nearly walking, feeding himself real food, chasing the dogs around the house and certainly becoming his own person.
Everyone says time goes too fast with kids, that you never have enough time, that they grow up so fast. And this is one in a long line of things that I agreed with and understood but also had no comprehension of until I actually lived through it.
I'm not being emotional or sentimental, but realistic and honest when I say that in "no" time at all One Philly Son will be headed to pre-school, school, middle school, and on and on and on.
The time that I have with this perfect little being is short, so short, and I intend to make the best of every minute we've got.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Motivation
Or lack there of...
So I haven't been terribly motivated lately. The yard needs weeding and raking. The floors need sweeping and mopping. 4 baskets of laundry need putting away.
And honestly, I don't care.
Awesomely One Philly Daddy is supportive of this lack of motivation. I often wish he was more of a do-er, a do-it-yourself fix it guy like some of the husbands I see always tinkering or fixing. But I know I'm blessed not to have a husband that demands the house be a certain way or cleaned often or something like that.
So, I'm enjoying this really weird warm spell we're having (even though it might be a bit too warm. 90? In September? The end of September? Really?) and the lack of productivity.
I'm sure the urge to "do" will return and I'll be productive once again. Until then, I'll revel in my laziness.
So I haven't been terribly motivated lately. The yard needs weeding and raking. The floors need sweeping and mopping. 4 baskets of laundry need putting away.
And honestly, I don't care.
Awesomely One Philly Daddy is supportive of this lack of motivation. I often wish he was more of a do-er, a do-it-yourself fix it guy like some of the husbands I see always tinkering or fixing. But I know I'm blessed not to have a husband that demands the house be a certain way or cleaned often or something like that.
So, I'm enjoying this really weird warm spell we're having (even though it might be a bit too warm. 90? In September? The end of September? Really?) and the lack of productivity.
I'm sure the urge to "do" will return and I'll be productive once again. Until then, I'll revel in my laziness.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Review of Cooperage
So it is almost already a week since we ate at Cooperage so I thought I should finally get around to letting you know how it went.
I really liked the atmosphere to start with. Water glasses are mason jars with handles, and your silverware will be rolled in a cloth napkin standing up in said mason jar. The plates remind me somehow of what you'd imagine the quintiscencial Southern Grandma would have. White but designed something along the lines of this,
but less elegant, more country. Its the kind of laid back, don't-feel-like-you-have-to-be-on-your-best-behavoir place that I really like.
We were there for Restaurant week, so didn't really explore the full menu, but there were lots of options on the Restaurant week menu.
I started with Hushpuppies, which I'd never had before, but came served with blueberry spread which was really yummy. Then I had the Summer Berry Salad, which was just ok. But I love salads served with fruit, berries and nuts, so I might have high standards than some. My dinner was the Scallops which came with a yummy Sweet Pea sauce. My final course was the Peach Cobbler with Vanilla Ice Cream.
There are some spicy options on the menu, but I (who can't/doesn't/won't eat spicy food) was able to find plenty of non-spicy options to choose from, even on an abbreviated Restaurant Week menu.
My brother had the Gumbo, only complaint there is that they didn't bring a spoon. And while Gumbo is not a "soup", a spoon would've been nice. His girlfriend (who's just lovely!) ordered a dessert with chilli and chocolate, which was an interesting combination, but too interesting to really enjoy (chocolate is sacred to me, and again, I don't do spicy). One Philly Daddy is NOT a dessert person, but they were offering a cheese plate in the dessert tray, and One Phily Daddy IS a cheese person.
The cheese plate had 3 cheeses, and a server came to explain the different cheeses, where they were from, and the differences in their tastes and textures. One of the staff told us the guy who delivered the cheeses had worked at DiBruno Brothers, so I imagine he knows a lot about cheeses!
The service was good, the food was good, and the company was great!
I also learned about a blog, http://www.uwishunu.com/ with all kinds of information on events, happenings and restaurants in Philadelphia.
Check it all out!
I really liked the atmosphere to start with. Water glasses are mason jars with handles, and your silverware will be rolled in a cloth napkin standing up in said mason jar. The plates remind me somehow of what you'd imagine the quintiscencial Southern Grandma would have. White but designed something along the lines of this,
but less elegant, more country. Its the kind of laid back, don't-feel-like-you-have-to-be-on-your-best-behavoir place that I really like. We were there for Restaurant week, so didn't really explore the full menu, but there were lots of options on the Restaurant week menu.
I started with Hushpuppies, which I'd never had before, but came served with blueberry spread which was really yummy. Then I had the Summer Berry Salad, which was just ok. But I love salads served with fruit, berries and nuts, so I might have high standards than some. My dinner was the Scallops which came with a yummy Sweet Pea sauce. My final course was the Peach Cobbler with Vanilla Ice Cream.
There are some spicy options on the menu, but I (who can't/doesn't/won't eat spicy food) was able to find plenty of non-spicy options to choose from, even on an abbreviated Restaurant Week menu.
My brother had the Gumbo, only complaint there is that they didn't bring a spoon. And while Gumbo is not a "soup", a spoon would've been nice. His girlfriend (who's just lovely!) ordered a dessert with chilli and chocolate, which was an interesting combination, but too interesting to really enjoy (chocolate is sacred to me, and again, I don't do spicy). One Philly Daddy is NOT a dessert person, but they were offering a cheese plate in the dessert tray, and One Phily Daddy IS a cheese person.
The cheese plate had 3 cheeses, and a server came to explain the different cheeses, where they were from, and the differences in their tastes and textures. One of the staff told us the guy who delivered the cheeses had worked at DiBruno Brothers, so I imagine he knows a lot about cheeses!
The service was good, the food was good, and the company was great!
I also learned about a blog, http://www.uwishunu.com/ with all kinds of information on events, happenings and restaurants in Philadelphia.
Check it all out!
Friday, September 17, 2010
Does meditation lead to a quiet mind?
So, in my quest to be Liz Gilbert (author of Eat Pray Love
), I've started, um, meditating 
. I've loved yoga for years, so I guess meditation might be considered the next logical step...
OK, I've meditated like twice, but the concept fascinates me. My mind goes, not even kidding, a million miles a minute. Have you ever heard that you can't think of two things at once? Well, I can tell you that is bullsh*t, I can simultaneously worry about 5 or 6 things at once. On a good day! Some of them are realistic "did I turn off the stove?" sorts of questions and some of them are just plain ridiculous...
But I'm the first to admit, most of these worries are unfounded and unnecessary.
Its just that I've been doing it for so long, it got to be sort of a habit.
Like smoking or biting your nails. (Hey, I wonder if there's a patch or gum to help with worrying. Probably, but probably only in Europe because the FDA is still testing it...) But I've long since outgrown the usefulness of those constant what-ifs and worries.
I've heard from lots of people you'd never imagine meditating, that they do, and that it is awesome. Tough beer-swilling frat guys all the way to super Type-A's.
I'm not looking for a great Earth-shattering experience or to hear God's voice. Just a little quiet
would do just fine, thank you very much. (Although, there are books to aid with Meditating to Attain a Healthy Body Weight, 
so there are lots of things meditation may help with...)
Oh, and Liz, if you're reading this, don't get freaked out, OK?
), I've started, um, meditating . I've loved yoga for years, so I guess meditation might be considered the next logical step...OK, I've meditated like twice, but the concept fascinates me. My mind goes, not even kidding, a million miles a minute. Have you ever heard that you can't think of two things at once? Well, I can tell you that is bullsh*t, I can simultaneously worry about 5 or 6 things at once. On a good day! Some of them are realistic "did I turn off the stove?" sorts of questions and some of them are just plain ridiculous...
But I'm the first to admit, most of these worries are unfounded and unnecessary.
Its just that I've been doing it for so long, it got to be sort of a habit.
Like smoking or biting your nails. (Hey, I wonder if there's a patch or gum to help with worrying. Probably, but probably only in Europe because the FDA is still testing it...) But I've long since outgrown the usefulness of those constant what-ifs and worries.
I've heard from lots of people you'd never imagine meditating, that they do, and that it is awesome. Tough beer-swilling frat guys all the way to super Type-A's.
I'm not looking for a great Earth-shattering experience or to hear God's voice. Just a little quiet
would do just fine, thank you very much. (Although, there are books to aid with Meditating to Attain a Healthy Body Weight, so there are lots of things meditation may help with...)Oh, and Liz, if you're reading this, don't get freaked out, OK?
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Restaurant Week in Philadelphia
Hey all you Philly-ites!
Its Restaurant Week! I love, love, love Restaurant Week. Some super great restaurants participate that otherwise I might not afford or have the guts to try...
For those of you who don't know, participating restaurants (find the list here) agree to offer a set menu for the fixed price of $35. They have to offer at least 3 courses, but some of the less expensive restaurants over 4 courses. New this year, some restaurants are also offering a lunch menu for $20.
Also new this year, instead of just one week, these fixed menus are available September 12-17 & 19-24.
One Philly Daddy and I are taking the opportunity to meet up with my brother for a yummy dinner and night on the town at Cooperage....
So get out there and EAT!
Its Restaurant Week! I love, love, love Restaurant Week. Some super great restaurants participate that otherwise I might not afford or have the guts to try...
For those of you who don't know, participating restaurants (find the list here) agree to offer a set menu for the fixed price of $35. They have to offer at least 3 courses, but some of the less expensive restaurants over 4 courses. New this year, some restaurants are also offering a lunch menu for $20.
Also new this year, instead of just one week, these fixed menus are available September 12-17 & 19-24.
One Philly Daddy and I are taking the opportunity to meet up with my brother for a yummy dinner and night on the town at Cooperage....
So get out there and EAT!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Learning to be content where I am
Since One Philly Son was born, I've experienced ebbs and flows of satisfaction regarding my decision to work from home.
I've felt alternately stretched and pulled into being worker, Mom, wife, housekeeper all at once and also abundantly blessed.
It is difficult to be faced with the decision to answer this email or pick up your son. Its not easy to realize your baby is learning to play by himself, perhaps not because this is an innate skill of his, to be self-entertained, but rather because he has too, because you can't get down on the floor and play with him right now.
On the flip side, of course, I feel blessed to maintain my full earning level during these trying economic times. I know people who've been looking for a job (just something to pay the bills so they can stop raiding their retirement fund, these people are not waiting for the job or anything...), so I know how blessed I am to have an income, benefits, AND three days a week to work from home and be with my son. How dare I complain when so many have less?
In many ways, working from home is THE perfect set up. A combination of keeping your feet in the adult, professional, have-to-take-a-shower-and-brush-your-hair world and the my kid is my life, sit-on-the-floor-and-bang-on-pots-and-pans world.
I am so aware of how blessed and lucky I am, that I sometimes can not believe that I would have the audacity to question it.
Because I know at least 2 things to be true:
Number 1 - I am beyond blessed.
Number 2 - I am blessed with exactly what I asked for.
But I suppose it is human nature to fall into the grass-is-always-greener way of thinking. "If only this or that, then I'd be truly content and fulfilled."
I know as much as anyone that no external factor can determine happiness or satisfaction. That has to come from within. The goal is to be true to yourself, honest with your desires, and do what you can to achieve those desires. But the goal is also to be content with what you have, finding that balance of striving for more while being satisfied with what you have.
What a tough balance, right?
I know I'm not the only one to finally get just what I wanted, only to feel like maybe its not all I thought it would be after all. What "wishes" have you had granted, only to realize its a little different than you imagined?
I've felt alternately stretched and pulled into being worker, Mom, wife, housekeeper all at once and also abundantly blessed.
It is difficult to be faced with the decision to answer this email or pick up your son. Its not easy to realize your baby is learning to play by himself, perhaps not because this is an innate skill of his, to be self-entertained, but rather because he has too, because you can't get down on the floor and play with him right now.
On the flip side, of course, I feel blessed to maintain my full earning level during these trying economic times. I know people who've been looking for a job (just something to pay the bills so they can stop raiding their retirement fund, these people are not waiting for the job or anything...), so I know how blessed I am to have an income, benefits, AND three days a week to work from home and be with my son. How dare I complain when so many have less?
In many ways, working from home is THE perfect set up. A combination of keeping your feet in the adult, professional, have-to-take-a-shower-and-brush-your-hair world and the my kid is my life, sit-on-the-floor-and-bang-on-pots-and-pans world.
I am so aware of how blessed and lucky I am, that I sometimes can not believe that I would have the audacity to question it.
Because I know at least 2 things to be true:
Number 1 - I am beyond blessed.
Number 2 - I am blessed with exactly what I asked for.
But I suppose it is human nature to fall into the grass-is-always-greener way of thinking. "If only this or that, then I'd be truly content and fulfilled."
I know as much as anyone that no external factor can determine happiness or satisfaction. That has to come from within. The goal is to be true to yourself, honest with your desires, and do what you can to achieve those desires. But the goal is also to be content with what you have, finding that balance of striving for more while being satisfied with what you have.
What a tough balance, right?
I know I'm not the only one to finally get just what I wanted, only to feel like maybe its not all I thought it would be after all. What "wishes" have you had granted, only to realize its a little different than you imagined?
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
How a cold inspires me to get back on track...
So I'm still sick...achy, sore throat, runny nose, exhausted....and therefore cranky.
Lucky for me One Philly Daddy has pretty thick skin, AND went out and purchased some NyQuil for me, so hopefully I can sleep tonight....
Also lucky for me One Philly Son is pretty easily entertained and consoled, so today when I was home and sick with him, he was pretty easy to take care of.
This is one of the challenges of parenthood. The never having a day off, even when you are sick. Even if Mom or Dad is sick, the kid(s) need to be fed, clothed, entertained, watched, taken care of. Its not like I can leave a one year old to fend for himself because I'm sick.
But my argument isn't going to be for the pain or challenge or stress of this responsibility. Instead, I'm happy to report this is probably only the second time I've been sick since One Philly Son's birth. Since I can't take a day off to just sit in bed, drink tea and watch horrible day-time TV, I'm going to try to focus on staying healthy and fit, rather than bemoaning the days I am sick.
My summer has been super busy so working out and eating well have not been a priority, but now that the schedule has slowed down a bit, its time to get back on track. Vegetables, fruit, yoga - its all coming back!
As soon as I can breathe through my nose, of course..... ;)
Lucky for me One Philly Daddy has pretty thick skin, AND went out and purchased some NyQuil for me, so hopefully I can sleep tonight....
Also lucky for me One Philly Son is pretty easily entertained and consoled, so today when I was home and sick with him, he was pretty easy to take care of.
This is one of the challenges of parenthood. The never having a day off, even when you are sick. Even if Mom or Dad is sick, the kid(s) need to be fed, clothed, entertained, watched, taken care of. Its not like I can leave a one year old to fend for himself because I'm sick.
But my argument isn't going to be for the pain or challenge or stress of this responsibility. Instead, I'm happy to report this is probably only the second time I've been sick since One Philly Son's birth. Since I can't take a day off to just sit in bed, drink tea and watch horrible day-time TV, I'm going to try to focus on staying healthy and fit, rather than bemoaning the days I am sick.
My summer has been super busy so working out and eating well have not been a priority, but now that the schedule has slowed down a bit, its time to get back on track. Vegetables, fruit, yoga - its all coming back!
As soon as I can breathe through my nose, of course..... ;)
Monday, September 13, 2010
Sick and tired of doctors and health insurance
I am sick. My throat has been scratchy for probably 2 weeks, but within the space of one month's time One Philly Son had pink eye, a yeast infection / diaper rash, AND a double ear infection, which I think/hope are all cleared up now. I don't think our day care was entirely joking when they said he couldn't get sick anymore...
So I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that I got sick.
Thursday I was not feeling well, so I went to the doctor, who diagnosed pink eye. My ear and throat complaints were deemed "not too bad" even though they seemed pretty annoying to me.
Since One Philly Son had pink eye, I was familiar with the prescribed drops, Vigamox, and their cost on my health insurance. $70 for a teeny-tiny bottle. I asked my doctor if there was a generic option, but since I wear contacts and the generic is not as effective, we decided to stick with the expensive prescription.
Today I woke up feeling terrible - sore throat, headache, aches, cough, tired. I hardly slept last night and needed to take a pain killer just to fall asleep.
So back to the doctor I went. Where I was told my throat still didn't look bad, but that I had nasal drip, so I would be treated for a sinus infection. Which is luckily treated with a $5 generic antibiotic.
One Philly Son's been to the doctor a few times for his various ailments and we have to go back for his one year shot boosters (one set of shots is not enough for some of his immunizations, poor kid) in the coming weeks.
I'm not asking for something for free, but it is quite annoying to go to the doctor, explain the symptoms and be sent home (our favorite was when we took One Philly Son to the doctor twice, only to be told it was viral, and he ended up needing medication only a few weeks later) not "sick enough", only to return, finally sick enough to be prescribed some medication. We are not the type to go to the doctor or pediatrician for the slightest thing, so I think we should be given the benefit of the doubt. If we say we are sick, we are indeed, sick.
I understand the need to make money and that, unfortunately, medicine is now a business. I think the reasons to be a doctor must've changed over the past 100 years from "I want to help people" to "I want to help people and make a lot of money" to "I like paying for malpractice insurance" to "I love paperwork and fighting with insurance companies".
Hopefully we're all on the mend, and hopefully One Philly Daddy doesn't end up with one of these ailments. I might just scream if I have to pay one more $30 co-pay for a 3 minute visit with a doctor or $70 for more eye drops.
So I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that I got sick.
Thursday I was not feeling well, so I went to the doctor, who diagnosed pink eye. My ear and throat complaints were deemed "not too bad" even though they seemed pretty annoying to me.
Since One Philly Son had pink eye, I was familiar with the prescribed drops, Vigamox, and their cost on my health insurance. $70 for a teeny-tiny bottle. I asked my doctor if there was a generic option, but since I wear contacts and the generic is not as effective, we decided to stick with the expensive prescription.
Today I woke up feeling terrible - sore throat, headache, aches, cough, tired. I hardly slept last night and needed to take a pain killer just to fall asleep.
So back to the doctor I went. Where I was told my throat still didn't look bad, but that I had nasal drip, so I would be treated for a sinus infection. Which is luckily treated with a $5 generic antibiotic.
One Philly Son's been to the doctor a few times for his various ailments and we have to go back for his one year shot boosters (one set of shots is not enough for some of his immunizations, poor kid) in the coming weeks.
I'm not asking for something for free, but it is quite annoying to go to the doctor, explain the symptoms and be sent home (our favorite was when we took One Philly Son to the doctor twice, only to be told it was viral, and he ended up needing medication only a few weeks later) not "sick enough", only to return, finally sick enough to be prescribed some medication. We are not the type to go to the doctor or pediatrician for the slightest thing, so I think we should be given the benefit of the doubt. If we say we are sick, we are indeed, sick.
I understand the need to make money and that, unfortunately, medicine is now a business. I think the reasons to be a doctor must've changed over the past 100 years from "I want to help people" to "I want to help people and make a lot of money" to "I like paying for malpractice insurance" to "I love paperwork and fighting with insurance companies".
Hopefully we're all on the mend, and hopefully One Philly Daddy doesn't end up with one of these ailments. I might just scream if I have to pay one more $30 co-pay for a 3 minute visit with a doctor or $70 for more eye drops.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Home decorating with kids
Pre-kid, I occasionally marveled at the homes of those with children.
I marveled at the toys everywhere. I marveled at how much these grown adults had shrunk their lives to accommodate the tiny people.
I've always loved kids and wanted them, so it was rarely a judgement of cleanliness or something along those lines, though occasionally I thought the sheer quantity of toys was a bit overdone.
I couldn't see myself transforming my house into the play land that I saw so many other's homes become.
And now that my son is just over a year, I get it.
The love for my son is the most unconditional, giving love I've ever experienced. I want him to feel safe, happy, excited, adored (within healthy reason), and that he belongs here.
So my house has become a toy land for One Philly Son.
We rearranged and got rid of furniture to make more room for his toys, hung signs on walls, purchased swings, slides and sandboxes. Wine glasses have been relocated to boxes in the basement to make room for bottles, sippy cups and colorful spoons. Our "office" has been moved to the cold basement.
Even though he's only a year, I'm already painfully aware that my time with my son is limited. One day he will grow up, move on, and move out. At which time, I can redecorate and put away picture books and singing Elmo's and bouncy seats. Until then, I'm content to have my son's toys and books outnumber my candles, picture frames and knick-knacks. I'll leave his birthday decorations hung up as long as he'll laugh at them, and until we get a house with more storage, most of my wine glasses will live out their days in the basement.
And all that seems like just the way it should be...
What changes did you make that you didn't understand pre-kid?
I marveled at the toys everywhere. I marveled at how much these grown adults had shrunk their lives to accommodate the tiny people.
I've always loved kids and wanted them, so it was rarely a judgement of cleanliness or something along those lines, though occasionally I thought the sheer quantity of toys was a bit overdone.
I couldn't see myself transforming my house into the play land that I saw so many other's homes become.
And now that my son is just over a year, I get it.
The love for my son is the most unconditional, giving love I've ever experienced. I want him to feel safe, happy, excited, adored (within healthy reason), and that he belongs here.
So my house has become a toy land for One Philly Son.
We rearranged and got rid of furniture to make more room for his toys, hung signs on walls, purchased swings, slides and sandboxes. Wine glasses have been relocated to boxes in the basement to make room for bottles, sippy cups and colorful spoons. Our "office" has been moved to the cold basement.
Even though he's only a year, I'm already painfully aware that my time with my son is limited. One day he will grow up, move on, and move out. At which time, I can redecorate and put away picture books and singing Elmo's and bouncy seats. Until then, I'm content to have my son's toys and books outnumber my candles, picture frames and knick-knacks. I'll leave his birthday decorations hung up as long as he'll laugh at them, and until we get a house with more storage, most of my wine glasses will live out their days in the basement.
And all that seems like just the way it should be...
What changes did you make that you didn't understand pre-kid?
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Eat Pray Love - the movie
Like many, many women I read and loved the book Eat Pray Love, so when the movie came out, I was eager to see it.
I love to read, and I love to see a book brought to life. I saw Stepmom,
The Notebook, The Time Traveler's Wife
and 
The Da Vinci Code after reading them. I very firmly believe that the book must be read first, before seeing the movie. In almost every case, the book was much better than the movie, and it was better to read the story prior to seeing the movie.
So I went to see Eat Pray Love in the theater, and I loved it. It was true to the story and I highly recommend it! (I'm not going to ruin it for those of you who may not have read or seen it yet. But if you're a woman who's ever been conflicted about what/who you want to be when you grow up, had your heart broken or fallen in love, you'll find something to relate too...)
, so when the movie came out, I was eager to see it. I love to read, and I love to see a book brought to life. I saw Stepmom,
The Notebook, The Time Traveler's Wifeand The Da Vinci Code after reading them. I very firmly believe that the book must be read first, before seeing the movie. In almost every case, the book was much better than the movie, and it was better to read the story prior to seeing the movie. So I went to see Eat Pray Love in the theater, and I loved it. It was true to the story and I highly recommend it! (I'm not going to ruin it for those of you who may not have read or seen it yet. But if you're a woman who's ever been conflicted about what/who you want to be when you grow up, had your heart broken or fallen in love, you'll find something to relate too...)
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Visit to Sesame Place
I recently visited Sesame Place in Langhorne with One Philly Son, a friend of mine and her 1 year old.
I'd never been, but purchased a season pass. What I purchased was really a season pass for 2011, but it included the rest of the 2010 season. Children under 24 months are free, but everyone else costs $53 for one day (though there is currently a special, if you buy one day, you can get a second free, that you can use in either 2010 or 2011), and parking is $15. So I purchased a Season Pass (the Big Bird, I think) for $122 that gives me unlimited access for the rest of this season and next season, as well as parking. If we go twice between this year's remaining season and next year's, it will pay for itself.
Additionally season pass holders get additional benefits, like a 30% discount on all purchases in the park, and occasional days to bring a guest for free (there's one coming up September 11 and 12), so I think its well worth the investment. The whole One Philly Family is planning on going so One Philly Daddy can see what all the fuss is about!
On the day we were there, it was 95 degrees, but there are plenty of small wading pools for the kids and they had a great time. There were a lot of people there, but it seemed to be there was still room to move around, and get to the attractions.
But, I have to say the best part was when we got in line to meet Cookie Monster. The characters appear at intervals throughout the day and a non-character staff person moves the line along very quickly for kids to greet the characters. Everyone has plenty of time to hug and greet the character, so I don't want you to think the staff will rush your visit.
Even cooler - you can take all the pictures you want with your own camera with whatever characters you can manage to track down, so its really not a ploy to sell pictures. (They'll get plenty of your money. I did purchase a Gatorade at the park, and it cost me $4, so the least they can do is let us take pictures of Elmo and Cookie Monster without charging us.) They also have Sesame Street set up, so you can get pictures with your kids on the steps, or in a Fire Engine.
We got our picture with Cookie Monster, and One Philly Son went WILD! Squealing, shrieking, smiling - I swear he thought he was meeting THE Cookie Monster! He is a HUGE fan of Elmo, I'm not even sure he knows who Cookie Monster is, but he was definitely still star-struck!
Its a big park and One Philly Son is a little too young to last more than a few hours (he was asleep in his stroller before we made it to the car), which is another reason to invest in the Season Pass - when he's tired, we can leave without feeling like we're wasting money.
They also have special events - fireworks, shows, holiday celebrations.
If you're in the Langhorne area with young kids, it might be worth checking it out.
I'd never been, but purchased a season pass. What I purchased was really a season pass for 2011, but it included the rest of the 2010 season. Children under 24 months are free, but everyone else costs $53 for one day (though there is currently a special, if you buy one day, you can get a second free, that you can use in either 2010 or 2011), and parking is $15. So I purchased a Season Pass (the Big Bird, I think) for $122 that gives me unlimited access for the rest of this season and next season, as well as parking. If we go twice between this year's remaining season and next year's, it will pay for itself.
Additionally season pass holders get additional benefits, like a 30% discount on all purchases in the park, and occasional days to bring a guest for free (there's one coming up September 11 and 12), so I think its well worth the investment. The whole One Philly Family is planning on going so One Philly Daddy can see what all the fuss is about!
On the day we were there, it was 95 degrees, but there are plenty of small wading pools for the kids and they had a great time. There were a lot of people there, but it seemed to be there was still room to move around, and get to the attractions.
But, I have to say the best part was when we got in line to meet Cookie Monster. The characters appear at intervals throughout the day and a non-character staff person moves the line along very quickly for kids to greet the characters. Everyone has plenty of time to hug and greet the character, so I don't want you to think the staff will rush your visit.
Even cooler - you can take all the pictures you want with your own camera with whatever characters you can manage to track down, so its really not a ploy to sell pictures. (They'll get plenty of your money. I did purchase a Gatorade at the park, and it cost me $4, so the least they can do is let us take pictures of Elmo and Cookie Monster without charging us.) They also have Sesame Street set up, so you can get pictures with your kids on the steps, or in a Fire Engine.
We got our picture with Cookie Monster, and One Philly Son went WILD! Squealing, shrieking, smiling - I swear he thought he was meeting THE Cookie Monster! He is a HUGE fan of Elmo, I'm not even sure he knows who Cookie Monster is, but he was definitely still star-struck!
Its a big park and One Philly Son is a little too young to last more than a few hours (he was asleep in his stroller before we made it to the car), which is another reason to invest in the Season Pass - when he's tired, we can leave without feeling like we're wasting money.
They also have special events - fireworks, shows, holiday celebrations.
If you're in the Langhorne area with young kids, it might be worth checking it out.
Friday, September 3, 2010
How finances affect the decision to be a Mom with a career or a stay-at-home Mom
I won't say the choice is to be a "working" Mom or a stay at home Mom, because, trust me, stay at home Mom's WORK!
This is something I've debated since before day one of motherhood, and lots of questions are taken into account.
One piece that enters my inner debate/conflict is my Mom's experience. I was 12 when my mother entered a new phase of life as a Single-Mom. She had 4 children and had not worked in 12 years. She had no degree. She had no training. She had little employment history. Because of my father's bi-polar disorder and associated erratic spending and behavior, there was no savings. To my knowledge, she did not have a savings, checking or credit card account in her name. I'm not entirely sure she was allowed to know much of the details of the family's financial life.
As a child, I'm not totally aware of all the details, but I do know my father gave my mother grocery money, but that it was often not enough. During some of his manic, spending sprees (he started a sail making business for sailboats in our urban, land locked city. I think I'd seen one sailboat that looked like it hadn't sailed in years in the whole city.) I'm not entirely sure there was money for groceries. I do know churches donated food to us occasionally, particularly around holidays.
When I was young, my parents declared bankruptcy, and I remember all sleeping in one bed during the winter to stay warm. I remember school lunches being whatever Mom could scrounge up. It was disgusting, but tuna on graham crackers was a staple. I guess it was pretty cheap. I remember the first time I had a sandwich at someones house and they put more than one piece of lunch meat on the bread. What riches!
None of that is supposed to sound "oh poor me!"
But it does provide a great deal of insight, I think, into the depth of the debate many, many parents (not just Mom's) go through in deciding how to structure their "new" family. (As in, not the one they came from.)
My husband and I are in a vastly, incredibly different situation in all ways from my family of origin - financially, mental health, respect, support, communication, age (my parents were 21 when they had me, we are in our 30's), life goals, etc, etc, etc....
But the experience of seeing my Mom without resources, without the ability to depend on herself financially when the situation required it, without the skills and experiences necessary to be savvy financially certainly impacts my thought process. I can not imagine how insurmountable life must've seemed to her.
So it makes sense that job = money = security for me. So it is taken into account for the decisions I make for my family and for myself.
Still, its only part of the equation. What things affect the decisions you make for your family?
This is something I've debated since before day one of motherhood, and lots of questions are taken into account.
One piece that enters my inner debate/conflict is my Mom's experience. I was 12 when my mother entered a new phase of life as a Single-Mom. She had 4 children and had not worked in 12 years. She had no degree. She had no training. She had little employment history. Because of my father's bi-polar disorder and associated erratic spending and behavior, there was no savings. To my knowledge, she did not have a savings, checking or credit card account in her name. I'm not entirely sure she was allowed to know much of the details of the family's financial life.
As a child, I'm not totally aware of all the details, but I do know my father gave my mother grocery money, but that it was often not enough. During some of his manic, spending sprees (he started a sail making business for sailboats in our urban, land locked city. I think I'd seen one sailboat that looked like it hadn't sailed in years in the whole city.) I'm not entirely sure there was money for groceries. I do know churches donated food to us occasionally, particularly around holidays.
When I was young, my parents declared bankruptcy, and I remember all sleeping in one bed during the winter to stay warm. I remember school lunches being whatever Mom could scrounge up. It was disgusting, but tuna on graham crackers was a staple. I guess it was pretty cheap. I remember the first time I had a sandwich at someones house and they put more than one piece of lunch meat on the bread. What riches!
None of that is supposed to sound "oh poor me!"
But it does provide a great deal of insight, I think, into the depth of the debate many, many parents (not just Mom's) go through in deciding how to structure their "new" family. (As in, not the one they came from.)
My husband and I are in a vastly, incredibly different situation in all ways from my family of origin - financially, mental health, respect, support, communication, age (my parents were 21 when they had me, we are in our 30's), life goals, etc, etc, etc....
But the experience of seeing my Mom without resources, without the ability to depend on herself financially when the situation required it, without the skills and experiences necessary to be savvy financially certainly impacts my thought process. I can not imagine how insurmountable life must've seemed to her.
So it makes sense that job = money = security for me. So it is taken into account for the decisions I make for my family and for myself.
Still, its only part of the equation. What things affect the decisions you make for your family?
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Children are brave
I suppose it is a normal maternal instinct to protect one's child, but occassionally this instinct to protect can limit a child. Luckily for me, One Philly Daddy can be in tune for when I'm setting that safety limit just a bit too close to home.
We spent a weekend with family at the shore this summer - it was One Philly Son's (OPS) second trip to the beach, and we'd been to the pool a few times, so he was comfortable with water and sand. He stared, amazed at the seagulls and wondered at the waves. He was just beginning to walk while holding on to someone's hands and insisted on crawling toward the water.
One Phillly Daddy and I stood at the surf, letting OPS put his feet in the water. As a wave would approach I would pick him up, sure the waves would frighten him, as even the small ones would come up to his waist. Each time I picked him up he fussed a bit, confirming my suspicion that he was afraid of the waves.
Finally One Philly Daddy suggested I leave him standing on his own two feet when the wave came in.
And he loved it!
Laughing, mouth wide open in glee and amazement, he gloried in the waves.
I'm so proud of One Philly Son for how brave he is, for how unafraid he is of new things, things he'd never seen, things that should be huge and frightening and beyond his comprehension.
I'm also proud of One Philly Daddy and I - he for seeing our son's need and voicing how I was not meeting it, and myself for trusting One Philly Daddy and One Philly Son and allowing my 10 month old to stand on his own two feet in the crashing surf.
He loved it.
We spent a weekend with family at the shore this summer - it was One Philly Son's (OPS) second trip to the beach, and we'd been to the pool a few times, so he was comfortable with water and sand. He stared, amazed at the seagulls and wondered at the waves. He was just beginning to walk while holding on to someone's hands and insisted on crawling toward the water.
One Phillly Daddy and I stood at the surf, letting OPS put his feet in the water. As a wave would approach I would pick him up, sure the waves would frighten him, as even the small ones would come up to his waist. Each time I picked him up he fussed a bit, confirming my suspicion that he was afraid of the waves.
Finally One Philly Daddy suggested I leave him standing on his own two feet when the wave came in.
And he loved it!
Laughing, mouth wide open in glee and amazement, he gloried in the waves.
I'm so proud of One Philly Son for how brave he is, for how unafraid he is of new things, things he'd never seen, things that should be huge and frightening and beyond his comprehension.
I'm also proud of One Philly Daddy and I - he for seeing our son's need and voicing how I was not meeting it, and myself for trusting One Philly Daddy and One Philly Son and allowing my 10 month old to stand on his own two feet in the crashing surf.
He loved it.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Safe Fun in the Sun with Baby
I find that I am more concerned with a lot of things now that I have a son. I'm more interested in eating healthy, providing a good example by the way I eat (I've never been a "bad" eater, but find myself uttering the word "vegetable" a lot more when One Philly Daddy and I are planning out our meals.), good sleeping habits, reading to my child, and on and on.
One of these areas is sun protection. I do work (full disclosure) for the American Cancer Society, so this is a topic that I have a heightened awareness of, but still feel its important.
In Parent's magazine there is a full article on safety in the sun, complete with dermatologist advice. The most important tips are to provide as much coverage from the sun, either through shade or swim shirts
(a good idea is to buy a size larger for your child, as they tend to fit tight), use sunscreen
and re-apply every half hour when in the water.
This is, of course, a far cry from when I was a child and routinely fell asleep in the sun without sunscreen, spending the night carefully propped up on cold washcloths and dousing myself in aloe.
Since we joined the pool AND had beach trip already this summer (I know, lucky us!), I am being very careful to keep my son protected from the sun. We love Neutrogena's Baby Sunblock Stick
because it makes it a breeze to apply to my son's face. For the top of his head (he pulls his hat off, and his hair is definitely not think enough to count as "shade" just yet!) we use the spray
, even though it does make his hair crunchy.
Check out this list of other articles on Parents.com that might be interesting to you.
If there are any sunscreen products you love, let me know!
One of these areas is sun protection. I do work (full disclosure) for the American Cancer Society, so this is a topic that I have a heightened awareness of, but still feel its important.
In Parent's magazine there is a full article on safety in the sun, complete with dermatologist advice. The most important tips are to provide as much coverage from the sun, either through shade or swim shirts
(a good idea is to buy a size larger for your child, as they tend to fit tight), use sunscreen and re-apply every half hour when in the water. This is, of course, a far cry from when I was a child and routinely fell asleep in the sun without sunscreen, spending the night carefully propped up on cold washcloths and dousing myself in aloe.
Since we joined the pool AND had beach trip already this summer (I know, lucky us!), I am being very careful to keep my son protected from the sun. We love Neutrogena's Baby Sunblock Stick
because it makes it a breeze to apply to my son's face. For the top of his head (he pulls his hat off, and his hair is definitely not think enough to count as "shade" just yet!) we use the spray, even though it does make his hair crunchy. Check out this list of other articles on Parents.com that might be interesting to you.
If there are any sunscreen products you love, let me know!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Traditions on family vacation
So we've recently returned from a Family Vacation to Wildwood, NJ, our favorite "local" family vacation destination.
My husband and I have gone there at least once a summer since the year we started dating, and plan to keep up the tradition for years and years to come. I've read family traditions are important for all kinds of reasons, and we have lots in Wildwood.
Every year we go, we get our photos taken in one of those photo booths, we go to Hassles for a friendly-but-competitive game of miniature golf, followed by a free ice cream for the winner (bought by the loser), we bike ride, we go to a Seafood dinner, we walk the "Boards" to play a few games and go on a few rides.
Of course, some things were different this year. Our attention to the sun and suntan lotion
was a bit higher than normal, and One Philly Son was decked out in a swim shirt,
hat and confined to the shade
most of the time. Nap time was not just a luxury of vacation, but a necessity, and our signal to wake up changed from our hungry bellies to our son's hungry belly.
We usually take our bikes, but this year, with all the extra stuff we had to cram in the car (pack 'n plays and the like), there wasn't room for our bikes. So we rented a great two-seater like this one, that had an infant seat attached to the back.
My husband and I have gone there at least once a summer since the year we started dating, and plan to keep up the tradition for years and years to come. I've read family traditions are important for all kinds of reasons, and we have lots in Wildwood.
Every year we go, we get our photos taken in one of those photo booths, we go to Hassles for a friendly-but-competitive game of miniature golf, followed by a free ice cream for the winner (bought by the loser), we bike ride, we go to a Seafood dinner, we walk the "Boards" to play a few games and go on a few rides.
Of course, some things were different this year. Our attention to the sun and suntan lotion
was a bit higher than normal, and One Philly Son was decked out in a swim shirt, hat and confined to the shade most of the time. Nap time was not just a luxury of vacation, but a necessity, and our signal to wake up changed from our hungry bellies to our son's hungry belly.We usually take our bikes, but this year, with all the extra stuff we had to cram in the car (pack 'n plays and the like), there wasn't room for our bikes. So we rented a great two-seater like this one, that had an infant seat attached to the back.
Of course, One Philly Daddy and I had a great time, and were very excited about all the "first" things we were able to share with One Philly Son. As is typical, I suppose, One Philly Son barely registered the events that were occurring around him. He fell asleep on the beach during his first visit there, on the bike during his first bike ride on the Boards, and gave us a peculiar "what's all the fuss about?" expression for a lot of the fuss we made.
Still, we had a great time, and I know that in a few years, when he's old enough to know that every summer we go to Wildwood and ride bikes, go to the photo booth, and play on the Beach, I know he'll be excited to see his "firsts."
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