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I love spring. I count the days until we can be outside enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. As most toddlers do, Commuter Girl seems to love it, too. But, this year she has an issue with bugs. (That would be pronounced with a long “u” — similar to Rudy’s friend Bud on the Cosby Show.) Every time she sees a bug she points, fusses, and clings to my leg. It isn’t even just the big hairy spiders that she doesn’t like; she doesn’t even like the most child-friendly bug of all — the ladybug. We have made some recent breakthroughs. At school she found a spider and came running to tell me. She then told a teacher, and the preschool teacher caught it and put it in the bug box. Commuter Girl thought it was pretty cool and asked me several times to look at the spider through the magnifying window. Last weekend she wanted to look at a ladybug. I didn’t tell her that the dog had just stepped on the ladybug and crushed it. Instead, we got pretty close and she watched the ladybug “sleep.” It worked out pretty well…there were no sudden bug movements to freak her out. I hope we continue to make progress on the bug phobia. Otherwise, you can find me by looking for the mother with a toddler wrapped in mosquito netting.
Finally! Solid proof that mom knows more than dad. In two weeks, I will be traveling for four days and nights for work. Normally, New Dad and I spend equal time with our daughter when we’re both home. I think we consider each other equally capable of keeping her alive, happy, and healthy. But getting ready to go out of town has shined a new light on how much mommy knows best — or at least how much more I know. We’ve already been talking about what I can and need to do to prepare daddy for my extended absence.
I’ll prepare food and menus for meals at school and at home. I’ll make explicit notes about which days New Girl can eat the snack offered at the center, and which days she needs her own substitute. I’ll spend Memorial Day weekend doing all of our laundry and will set aside outfits for New Girl that suit the forecasted weather. New Dad will be a spectator at bed time and bath time in the coming week so he can see how those routines have been working out. And on the sly, I’ll talk to New Girl’s teachers and ask them to give New Dad a break or gentle guidance if he fills out her daily sheet wrong, forgets the crib sheets and blankets, or otherwise seems out of sorts.
I don’t mind any of this, and, in fact, much (if not all) of it is probably completely unnecessary. But it makes me feel good and a little less guilty that I’m doing something to help out even when I can’t be at home. And truth be told, it makes me feel just a little cocky to know that if New Dad were the one traveling, I wouldn’t need any of it. It’s just that little edge that moms have on dads — forever.
I am a working mom of two children who keep me busy all the time. If we can hire people to baby proof our homes, teach us how to breastfeed, and cook meals for us, how come I could not hire someone to help my daughter to learn to ride her bike without training wheels? I tried. I offered our next door neighbor who is fifteen the chance to earn some money and she turned me down. So it was up to my husband, my daughter, and I to figure this out. Although she is now the resident “expert” on our block, this accomplishment did not come easy. It has been a labor of love, tears, scrapes, sore backs, discouragement, and dare I say, yelling.
It all started last spring when we had the brilliant idea that she was ready and we removed her training wheels. (Sounds a bit like throwing away all your pacifiers only to have to make a midnight run to the store.) I was advised to just “go cold turkey” and she would be fine. This is where it all went wrong. She refused to ride her bike and for the few fleeting moments that we could get her to give it a try, she ended up in tears and discouraged. So the bike sat in the garage for the next year, until this weekend. On Sunday my daughter awoke asking to ride her bike. We quickly got outside while the moment was right. For the next hour or so she got no more than two feet and she would stop. Her fear of falling was getting the best of her. But just when I thought the bike was on its way back to the garage, she did it.
As I watched with tears in my eyes, I knew we were witnessing another important milestone in her life. First rolling over, crawling, walking, and now riding a “2-wheeler.” Now that she is a pro, we are all considering getting bikes so we can ride as a family. What a great way to exercise and spend time together.
When it comes to fashion, I say, “to each her own.” After all, someone was the first to wear capris, someone came up with the sleeveless sweater, and someone dared to wear a skirt that stopped at the knee. But when it’s our children who come up with “fashion-forward” ideas, what are we to do? I ask because my 5-year-old son has recently decided he doesn’t want to wear matching shoes. One day it’s a blue sneaker on one foot, a white one on the other. Another day it’s two different color sandals. In general I feel like if the shoes fit, which they do, why does it matter that they coordinate? But there is a piece of me that worries that the other kids will make fun of him. And then there’s my 3-year-old daughter who loves her raincoat so much, she wants to wear it every single day, even when it’s sunny and 80 degrees. It’s the raincoat or a temper tantrum, and frankly, the raincoat is a lot easier to deal with. So for now, it’s mismatched shoes and a slicker every single day. And who knows? Maybe one day we’ll wonder who was the first to consider wearing two different shoes on a daily basis.
It’s hard not to feel like you have to be all things to all people. And, it’s hard to feel like you do everything well. This Mother’s Day we should all take a moment to sit back and recognize all of the amazing things we do well. A friend sent me this to me so I thought I’d share. Happy Mother’s Day. Mommy Super Powers - I can “see” and “pet” invisible ladybugs, tiny kittens, and frogs she keeps in her pockets.
- I can build houses for ants out of rocks.
- I have super strength hearing in the late p.m. or early a.m. (especially if it includes the word “potty”).
- I can transform, with my super-mommy eyes, the letters of her name or anything she tells me she has drawn in a series on scribbles, doodles, and illegible marks.
- I can, with a kiss and the miracle healing power of a single adhesive strip, make 99 percent of ouchies go away. That other 1 percent is the super power of actual doctors.
- I can bench-press 35 pounds with no weight training whatsoever and can climb an entire staircase slowly and silently, with said sleeping 35 pounds (yet I whimper with five-pound ankle weights if I’m Tae-bo-ing — what’s up with that?).
- I have the power of a super-human imagination! (Namely of the most awful atrocities if my hand is not held in the parking lot or on a sidewalk.)
- I know the names of things in my super brain, like “monarch,” “chameleon,” and “forsythia,” and I’m not making them up like I usually do.
- I have a super-amazing strong heart that almost breaks, but not quite, every morning as I kiss her goodbye.
Ever day now, NewGirl insists on visiting the “shshs,” you know, the “fishes,” before we leave the center. I always comply, after all, it’s one of the very first desires she’s been able to clearly, unequivocally, and repeatedly communicate to me with language. The problem is, despite the fact that there are only two “shshs” still alive in the tank, visiting them is easily a 15 minute endeavor, minimum. That was fine in the winter, but now that the weather is gorgeous, that’s 15 precious minutes of time she could be spending outside, taking a walk with mommy and daddy before dinner or bed.
It’s 15 minutes that she’d also enjoy on her trike or playing in the grass. The problem is that she doesn’t know it’s a trade off. She can’t yet make that choice. So what’s a mom to do? I’ve tried edging her very early 7:00 bedtime just a little bit later, but without much success. Those 15 minutes are the difference between a peaceful evening’s sleep and a major meltdown, which invariably turns into an unpleasantly early wake-up the next day. What do others do? How do you adjust to take advantage of the great weather and evening light without disrupting your children? Or do you?
Like most moms, I believe I have an incredible daughter but have found juggling motherhood and working full time to be very challenging. With my chatty 17 month old and a career I love, it’s hard to find a balance.
This year I will be celebrating my second Mother’s Day. Last year, I put my foot down and selfishly stayed home. I relaxed, read a bit, played with my daughter, had pizza for dinner — nothing too fancy, but perfect. Sure, my husband took our daughter to see his mom for a brief visit, but we didn’t see my mom (which we received slack for). But what was great about last year was that I did what I wanted to do. For every other holiday, our family does what everyone else wants us to do. We figure out what both families are doing and then do the mad juggle between several houses (never our own of course and not by choice). By the end of each holiday we are exhausted. Not Mother’s Day though. That is my day…except this year. Everyone was so disappointed last year so I’ve once again agreed to accommodate the older generation of moms. In doing this, of course we have to be fair and see both our moms, which means we will once again be driving all over the place. Lunch with one family, dinner with another, and a 45-minute drive in between. All the while, we will hold our breath hoping that our daughter stays in good spirits without a proper nap. In hindsight, I’m bitter with my decision. I wish I stood my ground because I am now dreading Mother’s Day. Next year I will be selfish again. I wonder though, when does the switch happen with Mother’s Day? My mom certainly doesn’t see her mom and until recently my mother-in-law didn’t see her mom either. With a sister-in-law who still centers the day around her mom, when I can put my foot down permanently without being the selfish one? Have you put your foot down yet or do you also spend your Mother’s Day running around like any other holiday?
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