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

Recipe For A Baby At 43!

If this is your first time reading my blog, welcome! I thought I would take a week to reintroduce myself to some people who started to read my blog only recently. The archives only go back so far, so I wanted to give you my back story. I try to be very truthful, very real…and FUNNY. Hope you enjoy! Here is my very first post….throwin it back!

So many friends ask me straight out “So HOW did you get pregnant?” Followed by, “You give me hope!” LOL. Oh my gosh, it was embarrassingly easy, which I KNOW is NOT the case for many women over the age of 35, let alone over 40! This I know from having many friends, who like me, because of their career or other personal things, decided to wait to have children. Many found themselves unable to conceive. I suppose I had made peace with the fact that I might not have a child. My life, I thought, was so great already, that it was truly okay if I was unable to conceive. Even choosing to marry my husband, who was 11 years my junior, came with the possibility that we might remain childless. And he married me anyway. Good guy 🙂 But once we decided to actually “try” to get pregnant, it was crazy quick. Here is my recipe for a baby. Lots of sex….like everyday (seriously)…with a younger husband. The first month we tried, we were pregnant. Now, I was very healthy. I had no reproductive issues. I do not want anyone to think I am being flip about how easy it was. My heart breaks for anyone who can’t conceive who really wants to. Especially now, as I know what I would be missing. I always kept it in my head, that if was meant to be, then it would be. So I guess I was really relaxed about it happening or not happening.

“lots of sex….like everyday (seriously)”

The first three months were fine, except I had really bad “morning” sickness ALL DAY LONG. I carried oyster crackers around with me like it was my job. And then the four month mark came around and I was miraculously better. To say the next three months were the best of the pregnancy, is an understatement. Even with the severe carpal tunnel I had in my left hand, and the placenta previa, which was stressful (but wound up being fine), the second trimester was a vacation compared to the last one. I even did a show up until I was 5 months.

6 months prego

7 months

The last trimester was lots of fun. Just ask my husband. (insert sarcasm) Lots of ice cream and foot rubs. My hands started swelling and the carpal was now in my right hand as well. My skin on my legs got severely dry and I started having Braxton Hicks contractions every few nights. When I asked my doctor (who was almost 20 years my Junior with a valley girl accent…I’m rolling my eyes) about the carpal, she said, “Huh??? I never really heard of that.” I did want to slap her, but refrained. I mean I just had to go online to find the eons of women who had dealt with it in their pregnancies. The joy of being an advanced maternal aged mom….even the doctors are younger than you. Oye! Perhaps the thing that struck me most was how tired I was. Tired like I had never known. Now I don’t know for sure, but seeing how hard the delivery was on my body, I think it had everything to do with my age…oh pardon, my advanced maternal age. 🙂

8 months

The beginning of 9 months! With the handsome hubby!

You don’t realize it….at least I didn’t…but you hit the 9 month mark…and you still have 4 more weeks to go!! It’s like a slap in the face! You go along thinking…I’m almost done!! But you’re not…its a cruel mathematical joke. You go quickly from walking to waddling. The swelling increases (and mine wasn’t as bad as some women can get. ) And the GAS!!! Holy Moly! My husband was never supposed to hear those sounds coming from me. NEVER!! Well that ship has sailed. Did I tell you we met on the Love Boat? No really, we did. Princess Cruises. I was a guest entertainer singing and he was my audio engineer….I am digressing. Anything to avoid the GAS.

A day or two before delivery.

To make me really savor the experience, Oliver decided to wait an extra week to arrive. So I was officially overdue…like a turkey who’s timer has popped (see photo). Because of my advanced maternal age, the doctor in the practice who I really liked (obviously NOT the gyno-girl), scheduled us for an induction. See, when you are young, they like to make you wait for the baby to be good and ready, but when your parts are older, they don’t want to take any chances. So one week overdue was plenty. Whew!

So…..The Baby Equation for us was this…..

43 year old female + 32 year old male + LOTS of sex (literally everyday)!!!! = Beautiful Baby Boy!

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

A few weeks ago I did another thing I always said I would NEVER do as a mom. I have my reasons, as I’m sure all women do. The fact that the summer heat was breathing down my neck played a huge part in the decision. Okay okay enough with the lead up….just spit it out already! I cut my long hair. I now sport a shoulder length bob. Half way to soccer mom.

Why would I go and do such a thing? Well….let’s be fair. I wasn’t exactly “doing” my long hair on a regular basis. In fact, the number of times I “styled” it since O was born is a very low digit number. And when I actually did (which took forever) I would wind up putting it in a mommy bun or pony tail anyway. Talk about a waste of time. I just don’t have an hour or more to waste a day.

Another factor is, as I said, the summer heat. I needed that mane off my neck! Too much hair. Too much making me HOT! I started to get angry at my hair. That’s not a good place to be. And yes, I could have continually thrown it up in the Mommy bun…but just drying it was taking too much time. And to be the woman with the wet hair in the Mommy bun seemed bleaker to me than a mommy bob. The bob also seems relatively fashionable these days as I look at celebrities on the magazine covers while I wait in line at Target. Right? So I did it!

My sister in law’s niece, Abby, is a hairdresser and a complete hair genius. This girl is talented. She cut my long hair before and is awesome. I was nervous, of course, as my hair has been a crutch I’ve been holding onto. But she gave me the greatest cut and I feel a million times lighter. I feel free from the “hair.” Does anyone know what I’m talking about?

What did I think? That holding onto my long hair was going to make me feel younger? Silly Mommy. I can’t even remember what I thought the payoff was for “the hair.” Truth be told, I feel better now without the weight of the mane on my head. I feel pretty and spunky. I love it. This makes me wonder….what other myths are out there for me to dispel? What other Mom things have I been avoiding for ridiculous reasons? The reality is, that no one cares if I cut my hair….except me. So why not do what makes sense for ME? I don’t think, however, I’ll ever venture into truly short short hair as I don’t think it would suit my face at all. But again, never say never.

I think I was able to give up this crutch because everyday as a Mom I am learning more and more about what is truly vital in this a crazy life we live. Yes, how you present yourself to the world is important. It’s just not ALL Important. So if I go out without make up or my hair quaffed…who cares? Nobody but me. So when I do it, I do it for me. It’s about time, huh?

Here’s to you! Hell, here’s to US! And thanks for reading. Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every greasy kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up. Xo

Hands In The Dirt Head In The Clouds

What is it about putting your hands in the soil that is so therapeutic? The smell of the soil. The tugging of the weeds. It is mesmerizing to me, much to my surprise. I find myself out in the gardens of our new home, several times a day. It seems the weeding is never done. There is always mulch to spread and new perennials popping up. I’ve even started composting! The grounds are like a big mystery to me. An exciting gratifying mystery.

When we bought this house, I fell in love with the gardens. But I was also terrified of them. Up till now, I pretty much killed everything I ever tried to grow. I have hope for these gardens, though, because they were planted by someone else. Someone who had more than a clue about what they were doing. We had glorious mature perennials popping up through out the spring and summer….and I’m already seeing things coming up for autumn. It’s wonderful. My hope is that I don’t wreck it all. I am committed to at least trying to keep it beautiful.

Anyway, I digress. I was saying it was therapeutic. At least for me it is. I am fully aware it is a form of escape for me. More like a form of meditation. I take all my stress and leave it for later. I don’t know if I would go as far to say it absolves my stress…but I certainly don’t feel stressed when I’m in the garden. That’s probably why I go out to work in it so often! I engulf myself in performing a specific simple task. And I feel totally calm. Very Buddha, if you will. 🙂

Let me be clear. I don’t have stress because I’m a Mother. I have stress because I’m a person. O does not give me stress. Taking care of him everyday does not give me stress. It’s exactly where I want to be. It brings me intense joy. My stress is about life stuff. I have a darling mother who’s dark dark depression and inability to “live” her life brings sadness to me everyday. I have two wonderful parents who’s marriage is so broken but neither have a clue how to fix it. It weighs on me. Senseless gun violence, hate crimes, bigotry, health issues…they can stress you out. And Donald Trump. He’s a huge source of my stress these days. Will I have to move to a different country if he is (God Forbid) elected president? But I have to tell you, when I am in the garden…I don’t think about any of that.

I take O out with me most days for a bit of sunshine and exploration. He loves it! He is intrigued by the flowers and plants. And rocks! What is it with little boys and rocks? I let him wander within my eye’s peripheral. He is learning to separate and find distance from me with the safety net of seeing me across the yard. When he starts to get a little too far, I call him back and he toddles closer. It’s pretty awesome. It is exactly as I had imagined it in my mind’s eye….only better. It is our little Nirvana.

Maybe it isn’t for everyone. I would have never imagined it was for me. I sooo didn’t see this coming. My idea of escape used to be a trip to TJ Maxx for a little bargain retail therapy. Maybe I got into this because it absolutely HAS to be done and calling a gardener isn’t on the table right now…?? I don’t know. All I know is that I am loving it. Getting dirty and all.

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

Bumpy Times Ahead

I watch O on the baby video monitor. It’s past 7:30am, but on cloudy rainy days he sleeps a little longer. He is stirring, but taking his time to wake up. I’m enjoying my coffee. In peace. Listening to a bird chirp outside the front window. I am contemplating the day. What do I introduce to him today? Will he nap long? Will it be a difficult day like yesterday? He is getting his back molars in, so the teething and drool situation is out of control and kind of throwing me. He is all out of sorts. Or is it just him getting older? Becoming coming more of a true toddler? Yikes. I’m not ready for that.

He is willful. I’ve known this about him since before his birth. I could tell in my tummy. And how true it turned out to be. And it seems that so far, he is wicked smart. What a combination. I am glad he is willful. It will be a good trait later on. I want him to be a strong individual. It’s just that now….it’s going to pose some challenges for us. Add Mommy’s flair for the dramatic and Daddy’s hot temper…..and I foresee bumpy times ahead! But then, there is always wine to soothe the day’s events, right? Is there enough wine? (Is there EVER enough wine?).

Yesterday O was playing with this grabber thing we have in the kitchen. He loves it. I call him King Triton when he carries it around. He was getting frustrated because he was trying to move it in a space that was too small to move it freely in. He started to whine and fuss. Then growl and grunt. I interjected with a “Calm down, O.” He looked at me, threw the grabber down and screamed a scream I had not ever heard from him. A primal scream followed by tears of frustration and more screaming. He had gone from 0-60 in a matter of seconds. He was officially melting down. Toddler style. I was a bit stunned, however foolish that sounds. He hasn’t been like this. He’s been pretty easy (for a baby.). Needless to say, nap time followed. Yes, his being tired and teething was a factor in this outburst, but this was a force within him I had yet to experience.

He is young for this, isn’t he? Don’t they say “Terrible TWOS?” He is just 14 months old! Is this yet another stage he will hit early? Oye. So what do we do? React? Not react? I can’t see how yelling at him would help. But coddling him after undesirable behavior doesn’t seem good either. Up till now, we have tried to redirect his attention when he starts going into behavior we aren’t crazy about. It used to work like a charm. Now, not so much.

I truly thank God that I am an older Mom as I begin to navigate this part of raising our child. I have WAY more patience than I ever would have had in my younger days. I understand that I don’t have all the answers. However, many of the answers are somewhere etched in my mind after watching the do’s and don’ts of the child rearing of my nieces and nephews. I have watched my sister-in-law, Sarah, raise three children with the consistency and patience of a saint. I often refer to my memories of watching her parent when I look for answers. When she said “If you don’t stop that behavior, we are leaving.” She meant it. If the behavior persisted, they were gone. I get it. You can’t say anything thing you aren’t prepared to make good on. I recall, “Please and Thank You are the magic words.” The tune she used to sing it to is stuck in my head, all ready to use on O. I remember her making her children look her in the eye when she was reprimanding them. It sticks more. I found myself doing it yesterday when O kept trying to take an outlet cover off after dinner. Well, today my sister-in-law has remarkable teenagers who are smart, funny, respectful and kind. She is my role model for parenting. There are more, for sure. But I am grateful I have had a lot of time to watch others, especially her.

So what to do? I find myself taking deep breathes. I try to understand the child. I try not to let his frustration become mine. I know we need to teach him what calm is despite his genetics….no easy task. But essential. I recall O’s pediatrician telling me, “He is your whole world. You just don’t want him know that.” How true, how true. Imagine adding narcissist to the list? Not on my watch! So yes, bumpy times ahead. But good times, as well, I have no doubt.

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

Greetings From A Simple Farm Girl

There are days lately when I don’t recognize myself in this amazing life I have been blessed to live. Things are so vastly different since the birth of my son. I live in the country in a small town, for God sake! Not a designer boutique for over 50 miles. I always used to tell my best friend jokingly that I was “just a simple farm girl.” It’s funny to me still…but maybe there is some truth in that.

Last week my projects consisted of re-upholstering our kitchen chairs and making/canning homemade raspberry preserves from our garden. Both tasks were big successes. Mind you, both projects were pretty easy. But, I may just have a knack for this “Martha Stewart-ishness.”

Preserving and canning fruit is WAY easier than I ever thought. I started small. Just a couple cups of berries. The recipe I found on Pinterest (of course) said equal parts sugar to berries. But I have since reduced the sugar considerably. Too sweet for me. I did not use pectin. Raspberry seeds release enough pectin to give your jam a nice jelled consistency. And I didn’t have any. So there.

You start by bringing your berries to boil on there own in a medium saucepan. After about 10 minutes and regular stirring, you can add your desired amount of sugar. And then you bring that to a boil again for about 10 minutes.

In the meantime take your glass jars and put them into a pot of water and bring to a boil. You can do the same with the lids and rings in a separate smaller pot.

Once they have boiled, take them out carefully (these suckers are hot!) with a pair of good tongs. I put mine on a cooling rack. While they are still hot fill them with the hot jam. Leave about a 1/4 inch at the top. Put lid and ring on. Not too too tight, but tight enough. Place them back in the boiling pot of water. I did mine for 10 minutes….but apparently if you live at a higher altitude you may need to leave them in a bit longer. Then I took them out (with tongs) and place them on the rack to cool. Several minutes later you will hear a popping sound as each jar seals….it’s pretty cool.

Then I made labels….nothing fancy. Just handwritten. They actually come with the jars…which actually came with our house. Previous owner must have been an avid canner…? Anyway, here is my finished product! It tastes amazing! Sooo sooo good! And a fun little gift to give people when then come for dinner or a visit.

See….who am I? Giving a “how to” on making preserves? Lol! I love it. Couldn’t be happier! I moved onto homemade peach pie (OMG!) and peach preserves are next! My favorite! 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!

From Gucci To Gerber

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

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