What To Tell Our Children About The World

With recent events in Paris, Beirut and Africa, not to mention bombs taking down planes and ISIS filling the headlines, it is a fact that the world has become a scary place. That’s putting it mildly. It made me think about what we will tell O about the world we brought him into. Will we shield him? Will we tell him the truth, as tough as it may be? What we tell him and how we tell him things will help shape who he becomes.

I think honesty is the best policy. But what about omitting information to protect your child? Is that lying? I certainly don’t want him growing up being ignorant of the world and its ways. But I also don’t want to scare him. The idea of suicide bombers is hard to swallow for an adult, let alone a child. So what do we do? I guess it’s a pretty personal decision for parents. My husband is in favor of honesty all the way….I like to say “gentle honesty.”

I know some people who didn’t tell their children about 9/11. Or about the Sandy Hook School shootings. How you keep something like either of those things from your kid is beyond me. I mean logistically. The stories were everywhere. Not just TV. You’d have to live under a rock not to notice the outpouring of emotion. And then what happens when the kids whose parents did have a conversation with them, start explaining it to other children? Your child gets the version as understood by little Johnny from down the street.

I guess like everything, we should approach it with thought and balance. I suppose it isn’t necessary to have a conversation with O about such things until he reaches school age. Or before, if he starts inquiring for himself. And I suppose we should gently pour the truth out in terms and in quantities appropriate for his age. But there are certainly things I want him to be afraid of…like strange men in vans who have puppies and lollipops. Damn straight. Stranger Danger is for real and a whole other post…but something to certainly discuss way before school age.

Ugh! The world can be a horrible place with such evil lurking in it. How do we make him aware of it without making him completely fearful or worse, completely cynical. The world is filled with such disenchantment. Such wild disenchantment. I believe that is a big part of where much evil is born. So how do we keep his innocence and naïveté while educating him about the world? Seems an impossible task. Unless the key is to also fill him with hope. To teach him respect and trust. To show him the magic that exists in our every day. To let him know that even though bad things can happen, miracles happen, as well. To fill him with kindness, faith and possibilities, while we balance it all out with doses of some tough realities.

This parenting thing is not for the faint of heart. I suppose if we let ourselves become consumed with the terrors that exist we would never procreate. And the evil that exists would win. I certainly don’t want that kind of world for O. It is with a heavy heart for this world that I wish you a blessed Thanksgiving. May you be especially thankful for the loved ones you call Family and may your heart continue to hold hope in it.

Until next time, this emotional mommy is going to have a good cry and say some extra prayers. And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Thank you so much for reading. Xo

40 Blissful Minutes

I am the first one to say I don’t know how to relax. I am always “doing” something. Shamefully, I admit, I sometimes tackle not just two, but three or four projects at a time. Like at the same time. Not the best strategy always, but I usually have a lot of pots on the stove, so to speak. Yesterday was no exception.

It was around 2:15pm. Smack in the middle of O’s nap time. I was finishing up a project I was working on for Christmas and starting to make a new Chicken Bratwurst recipe with a warm kartoffelsalat for the side. The contractor who is renovating our bathrooms shows up to do a faucet install. I figured O would most likely sleep through any noise, as he should have been deeply down by this point in time. Boy, was I wrong. One creek up the staircase and O was UP with all capitals and a very loud whine. Our very observant contractor points out, “Hey, the baby’s crying.” Really? Huh….Gee, I didn’t hear the ear piercing cry….thanks for letting me know. I didn’t say that….what I said was, “yeah.”

I went into O’s room. He had only slept for an hour. There was no way he was ready to actually get up. I kept the light off and picked him up out of his crib and went to the rocker. The whole weight of his body draped over my shoulder. I sat down and started to gently rock and sing to him. What happened next was such a great gift and it truly brought joyful tears to my eyes. O fell asleep in my arms. Now you might think, big deal. But my O hasn’t slept in my arms for any real length of time since he was an infant. This was 40 minutes of absolute angelic bliss. A couple times he stirred only to look up at me with the purest love in his eyes only to then fall back asleep. It was heaven on earth.

I wish that 40 minutes could have gone on and on. I would have left every project and pot to boil over. Nothing mattered to me in that moment, but THAT moment. What a lesson in simply being there. It is a lesson I needed refreshing in, especially lately. I let myself become crazed with tasks again. I feel foolish and well, exhausted. Time to take it easy again. Oh my little O is the best teacher!

The only hard thing to swallow about my blissful 40 minutes was that when those times were a regular occurrence, when O was a newborn, I feel like I didn’t enjoy them. At least not the way I would have had I not had the post partum blues. It made me sad to think I missed a lot of that time. I just couldn’t get my head on straight then. I won’t beat myself up about it anymore. It is what it is. And I thank God I got through it. But I can’t pretend I didn’t miss some really special moments. I guess I should be grateful that I got to fully savor something so wonderful now. And I am……so grateful.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up. Thanks for reading! Xo

The Other Shoe

My little O has an issue with shoes. He doesn’t like to keep them on. At the moment, he only has one pair. Imagine my quandary when one goes missing while we are out and about. Give me strength.

Today’s case was perhaps the most dramatic and maybe the most ironic. We were at the mall where I JUST purchased for my shoeless Joe, a pair of snow boots and an upsize pair of sneakers that light up. (So fun!). I figured I should buy a pair of sneakers that he will be in after the winter…as he still fits into his only pair and it was a buy one get one half off sale. I digress, as usual. We made our purchase, went to the disappointing play area, we made a diaper change which included an elevator trip, and browsed in a couple stores for Mommy. It was nearing lunch time, so I figured it was time to get out of Dodge. We got out to the car and I got him out of the stroller, into his car seat and saw he only had one shoe on. !!!!! What the?! I looked around, it was nowhere. I put him back in the stroller, threw my diaper bag in the car, cause who needs to lug THAT around longer than necessary, and headed back into Macy’s. I retraced my steps. That included going back in the elevator. Going through the stores which are all the way on the other side of the mall. 3/4 way through retracing my steps I decided, “screw it!” I may have actually said that out loud. Yes, in fact, I did say it out loud. To no one in particular, just the shoe Gods in general, apparently. I was sweating by this point. And due to the fact that I switched from my antiperspirant/deodorant to JUST deodorant due to the request from my husband and his concern for my getting early onset Alzheimer’s…I absolutely stunk. I was not a happy camper.

We headed back to the parking lot where the mystery began. I figured, “oh well, I’ll double up his socks in his new sneakers and hope he can walk correctly in them.” We get to the car, and I see something tan resembling his little boat shoe way under the car….hidden by the wheel, in fact. I’m happy to see the shoe. But I’m also pissed at the shoe, because I can’t get pissed at an 18 month old. Completely irrational, I know.

Mind you, this was all after an early morning Doctor appointment for me, at which O decided to react as if it HIS appointment. Crying inconsolably and hanging on me pretty much the entire time. I was the one getting the flu shot kid! It was not my best day. I say this because I have been accused of pooping rainbows. Let me tell you, some days are rough. Sometimes I want to put him down for a nap and drown my sorrows in a bowl of chips and double Downton Abbey episodes. (God, that sounds good!). The point is, I have bad days. I have really sucky days. And I have days that are awesome. It’s all part of the territory, I suppose. Sort of like poop on your hands. Some days your just gonna get poop on your hands and that’s all there is to it. You just wash up real good and take a deep cleansing breath….pun totally intended.

So what have I learned from this? I’m not really sure to tell you the truth. Maybe I should have more than one pair of shoes for O? Maybe I should watch more closely to see if we leave a trail when out and about? Maybe it’s just that some days are better than others. The only thing I am sure of is that no matter what, I’m still the luckiest chick I know.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Xo

SAHM ISO BFF

SAHM ISO BFF : Stay At Home Mom In Search Of Best Friend Forever! Well, that’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? But imagine if it was that easy to put it out there and meet other moms and actually become great friends!

I’ve written before about the loneliness of motherhood. I imagine it is something many stay at home moms deal with at one time or another. Living several hours away from my family (with the exception of my mother in law, thank god!) proves to make me lonelier than most, I suspect. Especially with my personality. Most people assume that because I am a performer, I am an extrovert. But that is not the case. I have a very hard time making friends. And ever since I have had O, I wonder if I am in jeopardy of losing the ones I do have due to lack of contact.

It isn’t for lack of interest in my friends. Thanks to Facebook I can at least see what they are up to. I constantly cheer them on, unbeknownst to them, nestled away in my New England haven. I smile for them. I laugh with them. I even cry for them. But we all know Facebook is not real life. The contact is “virtual.” It certainly doesn’t leave you feeling like you spent the afternoon with a good girlfriend. I remember that feeling. I would feel inspired. Invigorated. Like I could take on the world. Nothing inspires your confidence like time spent with a bestie.

These days I am in toddler world. From the moment O is awake to the moment he goes down for a nap he consumes my energy. Once he wakes up it starts again until he is down for the night. I’m not complaining. I’m not looking for sympathy. It is simply the way it is. He constantly requires my focus. If I’m not reading to him or feeding him or playing with him, my attention is on where he is and is he burning the house down? or is he sticking his tongue in a socket? Even giving him his “alone time” to explore and play on his own, takes my focus. It’s not about hovering. It’s about the fact that I can’t abandon all thoughts of him to focus on JUST me. By the time his nap time comes I just want to shut off for a bit. I use that time to take care of business, if I need to. But mostly I use it to take some down time. I use it to do something cathartic for me. I want to piddle in the garden. I want to work on my latest DIY project for the house. Whatever it is, the last thing I really want to do is talk on the phone. I mean no offense to any of my friends. Most of them are working at that time anyway. And several of them are on the West Coast, so the time difference is impossible. When I can chat, it’s either 5 am their time, or 9pm my time and I’m already in bed. Oh the glamorous life I lead!

I guess if I could say something to each wonderful friend I have it would be this: I miss you deeply and love you dearly. Although you are not in my everyday life at this point, you are warmly in my thoughts and are absolutely part of the person I am today. Though it may seem like I am a totally different person….I am not. I’m still me. I’m just a Mom now, in addition to all the other crazy hats I wear. Please don’t think because I have a child now I don’t care to be friends with you. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you? If you are a friend of mine, I must tell you, you are a pretty special person. I don’t take that for granted. Wonderful people are not a dime a dozen. It’s just that sometimes life (or in this case, a toddler) gets in the way. Forgive me. I WILL return to the land of the liberated. It’s just gonna take a few years.

Until then, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up. Thanks for reading! Xo

Taming Your Demons With Chips

This week’s post isn’t about having a child. It isn’t about being a new mom of advanced maternal age. It is simply a rebuttal, fused with some humor and what I believe is truth. I don’t want you to think that I live a charmed life….although I think I do. I don’t want haters and such people writing nasty comments on my blog…..although there have been several. I want you to know my life is no grander and no worse than anyone’s. I just happen to think I’m the luckiest chick in the world. I know and accept the saying…”haters gonna hate.” I figured writing a blog would make me a target for criticism or worse. I kind of hoped just for the criticism, but hey, we can’t pick and choose. Even my self deprecating humor has come hit me in the face like a dirty mud pie. It’s all part of the territory.

The reason I say all of this is because people usually write and say nasty things because they feel something is lacking in their own life. Something is making that person unhappy…so let’s just project it outward onto anyone and anything. Well, I’d like to offer up an alternative to those folks dealing with their negative demons. It’s something I do to keep my crazy at bay. Instead of indulging in nasty and unattractive behavior, may I suggest indulging in a bowl of extra crunchy kettle cooked potato chips. Preferably the ones made without additives. Just good honest super crunchy potato chips. (Trader Joes makes a superb chip).

You see, there is something truly satisfying about the crunch….the salt…the rote mechanics of putting your hand to your mouth. Who ever thought you could get lost in a chip?….But I tell you, it’s possible. By bowl’s end you will find savory satisfaction. You will find yourself fulfilled. By bowl’s end you won’t feel like being a hater. You won’t be as stressed. It’s my m.o. for unwinding. Unhappy readers should try it.

There is a saying that goes like this. “You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world, and there still is going to be somebody who doesn’t like peaches.” I’m sure I’ll catch hell fire for that. Someone will assume I think I’m the juicy peach. Oh Please. Meryl Streep said it perfectly when she made this statement:

“I no longer have patience for certain things, not because I’ve become arrogant, but simply because I reached a point in my life where I do not want to waste more time with what displeases me or hurts me. I have no patience for cynicism, excessive criticism and demands of any nature. I lost the will to please those who do not like me, to love those who do not love me and to smile at those who do not want to smile at me.”

Well amen to that. If you disagree with something I write, by all means speak up and comment. Respectful alternative viewpoints and conversations are healthy. Nasty comments are not. They honestly say more about the critic than they do about the subject. So here’s another tactic. Just don’t read my blog. If something insenses you to the point of ugly unglued behavior, don’t read it. And if you simply hate me because my life is so wonderful, well, then perhaps a shift in your perspective on your own life is in order. Our lives are what we make of them..or what we believe them to be. Perspective is everything. From where I’m sitting, I’m the luckiest chick I know and the chips are extra crunchy.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is sure she is messing it up. As always, thanks for reading! Xo

Sexy Mommy Happy Family

I recently shared our “project” to attempt getting pregnant again. As fun as it can be, it is also quite a commitment. It requires energy. Something that after being up since 6am, running around after a toddler since 7:30am, I am on short supply of most days. It also, I’m finding, requires effort. I’m not talking about “the act” itself. I’m talking about getting myself feeling ready for a “tumble.” I never thought I’d say this, but feeling sexy can be a challenge for me as a stay at home mom. So here are a few things I find myself doing to combat that:

I get dressed. Everyday. Sweatpants more than two days in a row is bad. Even if I’m not going out, I put on something that makes me feel good. Sweatpants don’t make anyone feel good. They make you feel comfy and cozy….but not sexy. Now yoga pants can make me feel sexy if paired with a cute lulu lemon top…but again, not worn on consequetive days. Also, not to be forgotten, I try to wear a sexy bra. NOTHING is sexy about a jog bra. NOTHING.

I take the time to put some light makeup on. This is not for my husband, who literally could care less if I ever put makeup on again. This is totally for me. Again, even if I’m not going out, it makes ME feel pretty. It’s something small that goes a long way. Being totally honest, it’s not super easy being the oldest Mom at the story time, or at the market. In some small way it helps me feel like I might avoid the “Is that your grandson?” comment. (God help me when THAT happens).

I shave my legs and underarms. I use a great shaving gel that keeps my skin nice and smooth and hydrated. Thank you Trader Joes. I am a big advocate of “au naturale” but let’s be frank, hairy legs and pits don’t scream “sexy time.” I also use lovely lotions on my limbs and a spritz of perfume. Smelling good is a huge part of being desired by my husband. I love it when he comes home, embraces me and takes a huge breath to take in my scent. Let that be a positive experience for him.

Beyond all the superficial things (which are valid), I think there are more important things involved in feeling sexy. These are things which may not be as simple to do on a daily basis. I try to challenge myself each day to do something I think I might not be able to do. Because it gives me confidence. And confidence is sexy. I try to find the humor in everything I do and in most experiences, each day. Because funny is sexy. I practice gratitude daily because happy is sexy. I am not always successful in accomplishing these things…but I try. And trying, is, yup, you bet, sexy.

I understand that these last points are the true keys to feeling and, in fact, being sexy. Maybe that is the allure of the “older woman?” Lol! Maybe it’s the amount of pheromones we ladies on the older side of young emit into the atmosphere? Who knows? Who cares? What I do know is that for me, sexy is as much a state of mind as it is anything else. You can have the perfect makeup on and the most expensive perfumes…hell, you can be wearing a piece of dental floss from Victoria’s Secret, but if you don’t “own” being sexy, well. you’re just not. I mean, really…ever have an orgasm when your head wasn’t in the game? Right. Enough said. Sexy Mommy signing off.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is sure she is messing it up. Xo

Halloween 1 Mommy 0

Ok. So we are safely into October. There is a real chill in the air and the leaves are starting to appropriately turn color. The 31st is literally around the corner and I am completely stumped as what to create for O’s costume. Mind you, we don’t live around other homes, so I can’t imagine we will be getting trick or treaters. And I suppose we could take O to a neighborhood around us, but it would really be an exercise in parents getting candy for themselves. O doesn’t “get” Halloween yet, nor does he eat candy. The idea of trapsing through the chilly evening, going up to the front doors of strange homes with him, saying “trick or treat!” for him, as he doesn’t talk yet, strikes me as odd. It would be entirely for us. So then why do it? And more specifically, why fret over a costume for him?

In my childhood household, Halloween was always a big holiday. My mother was amazingly creative and untiring. Making handmade costumes for all four of her children. My mom would go ALL OUT! We had a costume contest parade in our town and every year someone in our family would win, if not everyone! There were no store bought costumes for us. I remember choosing what we would like to be long in advance. I remember my Mother sewing til the wee hours of the night getting everything just right. One year I was a southern belle right out of Gone With The Wind with a full on hoop skirt dress! I recall one of my brothers being a sheik one year and he actually pulled a huge stuffed camel after himself. My Mother’s skill and creativity were truly amazing.

Somewhere the Halloween gene passed over me. Even though I was lucky enough to wear the awesome costumes my mom made me, I’ve never been a huge fan of Halloween. I mean, it’s not like it’s Christmas for G sake! I know, there are people who go all out! They decorate their homes , work on costumes for months and go to local haunted houses. Ugh. Not this chick. But now with O, do I have to get “into” it? Ok, maybe not THIS year, but certainly in the years to come? The thing is, I already know I’m going to be horrible at it. I will want him to pick the easy costume. Something that will take the least amount of effort from me. It’s awful! Even so, being raised on homemade costumes makes it very hard to take the easy road.

I know I could just go to the Halloween superstore and get something off the rack, but it seems so cheesy to me. I remember as a kid feeling sorry for the kids who wore the store bought costumes. How could I possibly put O in one? And yet, how will I fair in making his dream of being a two headed dragon come true? I’ll be like, “Why don’t you be a hobo?”

It really is odd, because I am really a holiday person. Hell, I shop for Christmas all year long. I can’t wait to decorate right after Thanksgiving and I start listening to Christmas music in October (ooh, it’s coming up!) …don’t judge me. It’s just the scary horror stuff just doesn’t do it for me. The only thing I really like about Halloween is the abundance of candy, preferably Twix bars and anything Reese’s. I suppose when O is actually is old enough to get excited about it and actually participate, my feelings may change. I hope so. I don’t want to be the lame Mom who couldn’t care less. But this year, before he really knows….if I’m brutally honest, I could not care less and I kind of want to take the easy road. I would love suggestions, cause I’m fresh out of ideas. Even Pinterest couldn’t help me. Everything I saw on there looked too hard to do. See, I’m pathetic. Big Halloween Mommy fail. Pass the candy bowl.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up. Xo

At The End Of The Rainbow

As I sit here sipping my morning coffee I am filled with a feeling of contentment and gratitude. It’s quiet moments like this in our home that allow me to reflect on the blessings bestowed upon us. Yeah, I am also making a grocery list in my head and thinking about how I will accomplish one of my DIY home projects today….but for the most part, I’m just acknowledging how grateful I am.

You see, I am a type A personality, if you couldn’t tell already. I have this hyper gene in my makeup that makes me think I can do everything…all at once. It is hard for me to relax and do nothing. (It seems like such a waste!). But I am reminded, it seems by everyone, that it is, indeed, important to sometimes do just that. Nothing. At least to slow down.

I am going to share something that will no doubt make my haters hate me even more. And that’s fine with me. I have the best husband/partner in the Universe. To say, “in the world” doesn’t seem enough. He is constantly reminding me to take in the simple things. The little moments that I would have most likely trampled over on my way to Home Depot. The instances that turn into moments that create memories that define our lives. For instance, one night this summer he set a blanket out on the lawn so we could lay on it and watch the shooting stars. We saw like 10! The other night, he actually set an alarm (because we struggle to stay up past 9pm) so we could go outside and watch the super lunar eclipse. I would have slept right through it. It was spectacular.

Several weeks ago he showed me something that I seem to keep revisiting because it was THAT awesome. Evenings this summer we would take O to the playground that is near our house. He adores it. On this particular night we were there for only about 10 minutes and the sky started to spit raindrops. We went for cover under the pirate ship, as we were sure it was only a quick sun shower. Then it started to really pour. Even the plastic rendition of the Black Pearl couldn’t keep us dry. We decided to make a run for the car and head home. As we turned towards to parking lot we saw a huge rainbow. It took us by surprise. We scurried over to the car and Ian said, “Let’s find the end of the rainbow!” I was like, “Seriously?” “We’re gonna get soaked.” He looked at me with THAT look and said, “We’re already soaked.”

So off we ran into the baseball field towards the rainbow’s end. With our child in tow, like children ourselves. O loved getting wet. He squealed with absolute delight. We stopped somewhere in right field and realized the end of the rainbow was Us. We were standing right where it ended. We were our own pot of gold! If that’s not a God-wink, I don’t know what is. The point is, I would have gotten into the car and drove home, never seeing the amazing metaphor that now describes our life to me. It is my great fortune to be blessed with a partner who wants to lay under the stars and run in the rain. Now, of course there are other facets to my dear husband. He isn’t romping through the daffodils everyday and while he is an optimist, he has never worn a pair of rose colored glasses. But time and time again he shows me what is truly important.

There is a scene in the classic film, Its A Wonderful Life, where George Bailey is sitting outside his Mother’s house while his brother’s engagement party is going on. Ma Bailey comes out and tells him Mary Hatch is home from college and he should call on her. She says of Mary, “She’s the kind of girl who’ll help you find the answers, George.” I always loved that scene. Who knew the answers involved such simple wonderful things? Like the laugh of our child, starry nights and a partner who shows me what’s at the end of the rainbow.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up! Xo

Project Sibling

The Universe has conspired to make me sit down and write. It is O’s nap time. The hinges I bought off of Amazon for the bathroom cabinets don’t fit properly….so there will be no replacing them instead of writing. I was going to start to paint the walls of the master bath, but I now have to clean and paint the baseboard heating covers and don’t have the right high heat paint to tackle the task. I can’t just leave my sleeping angel in the house while I run to Lowes….so I’ll have to go later. Perfect window of time to write. The fact is that I am faced with a blog that is due tomorrow, but I’d rather eat potato chips. Or bacon cheese flavored popcorn. Any yummy tasty savory item from the Trader Joes snack aisle will do. I want to mindlessly crunch away like a teenager. I find it a satisfying way to avoid the task at hand. Maybe one more handful before I decide whether to spill or zip it.

Alas, I am writing the piece. After two bowls of crunchy goodness (boy, that’s an oxymoron), I am hitting the keys. I am tentative about sharing this week’s tidbit. Part of me feels like if I share it that I am somehow accountable if things don’t work out. But a bigger part of me knows that there are women just like me who are contemplating the same thing. Ok, ok, enough with the lead in…I’m talking about having another baby. Everyone has there own opinion on the subject. A lot of women my age are done after having one. Why push it, right? I see their point.

It takes me back to when I was 39 weeks pregnant with O and I had an exam with an older male doctor I had never been seen by before. This practice in Florida was odd. You could request a specific Doctor for appointments, but when you actually went into labor, you got whoever was on call. So they urged you to familiarize yourself with as many physicians in the practice as possible. And there were a lot. Oye! I digress. Anyway, on this particular day I opted to see Dr. Collins a.k.a. Crabby Pants. I remember him telling me while discussing the labor,”Well, at your age, you don’t want to mess this up….I mean, it’s one and done for you.” I remember feeling like I was slapped in the face. I told another physician what he had said and she just shook her head. Tossed it up to him being ready to retire. But it does make you think. At least he made me think.

Well, after a bit of a touch and go medical issue, my doctor up here in New England told me there is no reason we shouldn’t try. I’m fit and I’ve got the blood pressure of a teenager, hence the teenager snack attacks. By all snack accounts I should be over weight, but as my luck would have it, I’m as slim as I was when I was a vegetarian and really watched everything I ate. (Completely unfair, I know). So according to my lovely Dr., we have the all clear to jump to it. I would prefer to say like rabbits…but apparently it’s more of an every other day thing. You don’t want to exhaust the sperm. Who knew? I assumed the more sex the better. There will be no hormones or fertility drugs involved. It’s Au Naturale for us.

So, here’s to trying. Really trying. And if it doesn’t happen, then Frieda, my friend and psychic, was right. It won’t be meant to be. And in the mean time, me and my young husband can have a lot of fun. Either way it will all turn out the way it is supposed to. I have been so blessed already, it seems greedy of me to want another. If you asked me a year ago if I would want another, my answer would not have been the same. I have evolved into a really good mom. I’m so happy to be right where I am. So happy to share raising or child with my husband. It’s more happiness than I ever knew was possible. So I am making a promise to myself right here and now, in front of all of you. I will not be upset if we don’t get pregnant. I won’t let it shade the abundant sunshine we live in. I truly believe in things happening the way they are supposed to. My entire life is a testament to just that. So we will give it a go. Here’s to Project Sibling! Lol!

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight. I know what I’ll be doing. And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up. Xo

Sick Baby Silly Mommy

This week there has been no jam making or furniture staining. No re-upholstering, no sanding woodwork, no projects period. Everything is in a holding pattern. Little O is sick. He has a high fever. Red throat. Sick look in his eyes. Yes, my little bub is sick.

It is really the first time he’s been sick. He had a cold once at around 5 months old and he has been teething since before his first tooth at 4 months….but he’s never really been this sick. You know, for days. I don’t like it. What makes it even worse is that he can’t tell me what feels bad. At 15 months old he is just stuck feeling horrible, wondering why. It’s our job to guess and assess. Not easy, is it parents? It’s just the worst.

I say “it’s the worst,” but in truth, we have had it quite easy and have been very blessed. We have a healthy little boy who happens to be sick right now. But it makes me think about the parents who have children who are REALLY sick. Who were born with an illness. Who spend days at a time, even months, in a hospital. I can’t imagine the level of worry those parents must endure. It is unfathomable to me. I suppose as a parent you just do what you have to do to get through it. But talk about courage. The courage to face every day and create a world of beautiful possibilities for your child in the face of such uncertainty…..these parents are truly heroic. I pray I will never really know what that is like.

I realize that I have thought of O’s good health as a given. I have taken it for granted so easily. How awful of me. How audacious. I think about how tough the week has been with a fussy needy sick child….and he isn’t even THAT sick. How dare I! Talk about loss of perspective. I need to thank my lucky stars because TODAY I have a sick little boy….but tomorrow or the next day he will be better. And for TODAY, my husband and I and our families are healthy. My cousin calls it a “grace period.” It’s a window of time where everyone is doing ok. Later? Who knows? Let’s be grateful for the good stuff, NOW.

So I will follow the Doctor’s orders. I’ll continue to push the fluids on my little guy. He just won’t eat yet. And I’ll coddle and cuddle him and control his temperature with a piggyback of Baby Motrin and Infant Tylenol. I’ll read to him and let him be fussy. And soon he will be back to his joyful energetic self and I’ll be writing about some new struggle. But I will not take his good health and our great fortune for granted again. If you happen to be a parent with a child who has a challenging sickness, know that there is someone you have never met who is thinking of you and praying for your child. In fact, I’d venture to say you have a whole army of people doing just that.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is sure she is messing it up! Thanks for reading! Xo

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From Gucci To Gerber

Tales, Insights & Observations from an Advanced Maternal Age New Mother