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Category Archives: The Struggle is Real

Grocery shopping 2.0

Posted on December 1, 2016 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

lost-art-of-grocery-shopping

The Lost Art of Grocery Shopping – Why don’t they teach this stuff in school? Shopping for groceries is a daunting task and very expensive.

Is there a strategy? A rule? An easier way?

Yes, there is! Start with menu plans and list making and then add on afterward.

1. MENU PLANNING

Jot down 7 breakfast ideas, 7 lunch ideas, and 7 dinner ideas. Here is a sample from my menu planning. The lunch section pertains to my school aged kids.

screen-shot-2016-11-23-at-8-49-48-pm

You don’t have to make each meal in order. There are no hard and fast rules here. Just plan and do what you can.

Great! Now that you have your meal plan you can start my making a list. I’m sure there are many, many different ways to do what comes next, but this is what I have found is easiest for me and the grocery stores I shop in. As you get used to this list writing technique you will tweak and customize it in your own style.

I divide each item I need into the category in which it is found in the grocery store. If you are just starting to do this and are unsure of the layout of the store you are shopping in try grouping your list into the food groups you learned in grade 2. I promise it totally works. (Dairy, Meat and Alternatives, Fruits and Veggies, Breads and Cereals, and then add the stuff that doesn’t fit in the groups Pantry, Non-Food, etc…)

Shopping List

screen-shot-2016-11-23-at-8-50-08-pm

 

screen-shot-2016-11-23-at-8-50-20-pm

screen-shot-2016-11-23-at-8-50-34-pm

You will save money by planning, and if you find you are enjoying the menu planning and list making then go ahead and add coupons, rebating, collecting points, etc… I price match with a flyer app on my phone. The stars on the list indicate where the price matching is.

Feeling inspired?

Don’t do it all at once.

Start with the menu planning and list this week, then get into price matching. It’s a lot to learn and figure out. Getting overwhelmed and giving up isn’t a good start. In time, you will come up with your own grocery protocol. You will be able to tweak the above list into categories that make sense to you. Always start with menu planning and an organized list and groceries won’t seem so daunting.

Happy Shopping!

P.S. Go get a PC points card. NOW. (Or a points card to your local grocery store.) Its silly not to. Its free groceries! I spent $0.00 on Christmas dinner last year.

Crazy, right?!

jenny-headshot-2Jenny DiPietro is a homemaker, placenta encapsulation specialist, blogger, and most importantly, wife to Paul and mom of 4 fantastic kids. She has recently formatted a brand  TV show entitled, “Let’s Talk, Mom”.   Jenny is having fun hosting guests and leading discussions through topics such as, “Planning for Postpartum”, and “Breast Milk”.  In her quiet moments she enjoys hiking with her kids and dog and watching Netflix.

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This post originally published on goldenheartbaby.com

Tags: dinner, groceries, ing, menu, planning, point, shopps .

Keep Calm and Don’t Forget The Snow Pants

Posted on November 21, 2016 by Alexis Nicols Posted in The Struggle is Real .

If I were to measure my success as a parent by the number of things I had to remember in an average day, I would be, at best, a mediocre caregiver. You might let me walk your dog and water your plants while you were on vacation, but you probably wouldn’t let me use a spreading knife to butter little Johnny’s toast.

Today was the first bitterly cold day of the season, marking the arrival of that frigid winter we were all promised. I bundled the kids in hats, winter coats, boots and mittens (which is to say I wrestled with the baby for a full ten minutes trying to get them on his hands for more than a nanosecond. Nate laughed and pointed, in case you were wondering whose child he is.) In an unrelated thought, if you have any tips on how to fuse mittens to a screaming toddler’s hands without the use of staples, I’m all ears. So, out the door we went, with everything we needed to brace ourselves against the cold.

Everything except their snow pants.

Kid crying in snow

It was the first thing my mom noticed. “Where are the boys’ snow pants?” she asked with alarm. Crappity craptastic, I thought.

“Um, I think Ben’s pants are in the closet and Nate’s…ah, I’m not 100% sure. Maybe…he doesn’t have any?” I was starting to sound like a teenager who was about to get into some serious trouble.

Needless to say, after dropping the kids off at school we both went back to our respective homes and went digging for snow pants. I tore my place apart, cursing myself the entire time. Why can’t I get anything right? Why can’t I remember anything? What kind of a parent am I? Snow pants were found and my father very graciously drove them to the school. Crisis averted – until next time.

For some reason, I couldn’t let it go. What the actual hell was my problem?

There are measured degrees of success. On the one hand are the moms who have it all together, like elusive rainbow unicorns with nice handbags. The other end of the spectrum…well, it makes me too sad to talk about really. Let’s say that just because some people give birth to humans doesn’t mean they’re innately programmed to raise them.

I’ve come to realize that I’m square in the middle of the scale. I don’t have staff. No one to clean or cook for me or help me get the kids ready in the morning or to remind me about the damn snow pants. I don’t begrudge people who do (believe me) but it makes me 100% responsible, all the time – good, bad, ugly or otherwise. There will be mistakes. The challenge then lies in not repeating them.

The other challenge is being kind to myself and moving on. Am I tired? Yes. Are our belongings distributed among several content cleaning companies across the GTA? Yes. Do I have forty loads of laundry and dishes to do? Check. Between putting my house and my life back together, things have slipped, not the least of which is my Swiss-cheese brain. I have to remind myself every.single.day. to forgive myself, let it go and move on. Tomorrow will be a better day.

“You know honey,” my mom reminded me. “The kids are fed, dressed and loved. You’re not doing too badly.” That’s high praise. I’ll take it.

 

Tags: dealing with a toddler, Kids, love, mediocre parenting, parenting, snow day, snow pants, tired parent, toddler .

Parents, presents and profiteers

Posted on November 14, 2016 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

Hatchimals.

Effing Hatchimals.

Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s a really cute idea – there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this toy! In fact, there will be a lot of excited kids come Christmas Day who will be lucky enough to find one under the tree.

But not my kids. This mom isn’t organized enough to shop ahead, and unless magical shipments flood the stores with a bounty of boxes of these little lovelies, my kids will be Hatchimal-free come the holidays.

And that’s okay.

Toys 'R' Us

Toys ‘R’ Us is sold out of all Hatchimals, which run from $60-$90 retail.

But a quick search of Kijiji, Craigslist and eBay tells me that it’s probably not okay for all families.

Every year there’s a toy that becomes the hot holiday ticket. Cabbage Patch Kids. Tickle Me Elmo. XBOX 360. Furby. Frozen costumes. And parents, desperate to keep Santa’s street cred intact, turn to the profiteers who had the foresight to hoard stock of the sold out toy and marked it up to its weight in gold.

Profiteers, I need to tell you, you suck.

I get it, supply and demand. But these are holiday gifts. FOR CHILDREN. There’s something so sad about holding a toy hostage for what may amount to a car payment or half a month of rent. It’s a crazy market where somebody can prize the dollar this highly. I know, capitalism and all, but CHILDREN.

 

hatchimal kijiji

hatchimals profiteering

It’s just like scalped tickets for a concert or hockey game. It IS supply and demand. But in this case, where children are involved, where little wishes are crushed because it becomes unaffordable and unattainable, it just sucks.

But is gift-giving about spending $$ to prove your love?

The other side of gift giving and holidays with children is managing their expectations. My kids will not get what the neighbour’s kids get. They won’t get the same things their cousins or their friends or the Kardashian-West kids get.

Even Snooki (Nicole Politi) of Jersey Shore infamy can't find a Hatchimal for her kids

Even Snooki (Nicole Polizzi) of Jersey Shore infamy can’t find a Hatchimal for her kids

We have mixed traditions and celebrate more than one holiday. We have more than one holiday party and our kids are so lucky to be showered with gifts from loving family and friends. If anything, the overabundance can be overwhelming.

kids-christmas-morning

Managing expectations means that they get what they get, and they don’t get upset. It means that they don’t ever demand presents and then become disappointed if they don’t get something. Of course there are going to be disappointments – my son asked for a brick of gold for goodness sakes.

So far we’ve been lucky in that our kids are gracious and grateful in this respect. I’m not sure if Hatchimals are on their list or not. I’m not going to lie, I wish I’d gotten them each one, but there is no way I’m paying the King’s ransom.

The truth is, it’s not going to affect their happiness one bit this holiday. There will be presents, there will be family, there will be fun and there will be food. All in copious amounts. We’ll enjoy our traditions regardless of the toys that get unwrapped!

And we’ll blame Santa’s elves if and when it comes down to it.

 

Tags: cabbage patch kids, Christmas, expectations, furby, hatchimals, presents, profiteers, Santa, Tickle Me Elmo .

An open letter to anyone who tried to give me advice when I was pregnant

Posted on November 4, 2016 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

Dear Everyone Who Tried To Give Me Advice When I Was Pregnant,

There were so many of you giving me advice when I was pregnant for the first time. It was impossible to know what to listen to. Some of it scared me. Some of it seemed like good advice. Some of it confused me because I just couldn’t understand what the situation would be. And at the same time, the more I’d hear, the more I’d start to think “That won’t be me.”

As if I’m better than that.

photo: Phil Campbell

photo: Phil Campbell

But now that I’ve gone through it – twice – and lived to tell the tale, I have to say that most of the advice totally missed the mark. So thank you for trying to warn me, advise me and prepare me, but here’s where it all went wrong:

1. Thanks for telling me to sleep when they sleep – and to get as much sleep as possible while I was pregnant.

But why didn’t you suggest I soak it all in with pregnancy number one, because nobody would be indulging me ever again once the baby was born. 

2. I love that you told me “Breast is Best” and that I should really breastfeed because ‘choosing’ not to breastfeed is selfish.

But why didn’t you warn me how HARD breastfeeding is, how I should read up on the difficulties, on how to improve milk production or control over-production and be prepared to speak to a lactation consultant, not be hard on myself if I couldn’t do it.

And mastitis… You couldn’t have warned me about mastitis and blocked ducts???

photo: jonty.fisher

photo: jonty.fisher

3. Your stories about labour? They freaked me out! Telling me not to worry because it was all worth it? Not helpful. And you – the one who described her labour as “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” – you know who you are.

But why didn’t you reassure me that it doesn’t have to be that way. I found pre-natal yoga. I had a teacher who gave hypno-birthng tips. I have an amazing husband who kept me laughing through labour. And I had an epidural when I needed it. 

4. We talked a lot about pregnancy. I read a lot about pregnancy. I’m a pro at being pregnant.

But pregnancy is fleeting – when the muppet came, I no longer had time (or the mental capacity) to read much. You could have told me that I should probably read up to prepare for the first 6 months. And poop – you should have given me a book on poop and what poop colour/shape/size/frequency means. I spent too much time trying to figure out the poop.

photo: Mahalie Stackpole

photo: Mahalie Stackpole

5. You asked me if I’d babywear, co-sleep, circumsise, do baby-led weaning, breastfeed, cloth diaper and more. We hit all the hot-button topics and you gave me your take.

But why didn’t you tell me to thicken my skin, pick what’s best for my baby, have confidence in my decision and not worry about the other mothers judging me? The lactivists, intactivists and the sanctimommies I’d inevitably come across? I was NOT prepared for that kind of confrontation. 

A few other gripes – why didn’t you ever warn me about:

  • All the mucous that would flow like a river
  • The huge diaper pads that I’d be wearing after delivery. And those mesh panties!
  • The pain my breasts would experience as they changed to prep for milk production
  • The postpartum crazies – I was a complete wreck that first week, of course I was! all of my hormones were in rollercoaster mode as they switched to being non-pregnancy hormones
  • The back pain
  • The belly button itch and the line
  • The mucous – I really can’t stress that one enough. I never knew a body could do that!
  • The membrane sweep – wow that hurt!
  • The pregnancy mask – why does skin do that?

And what have I missed?

First-time mommies will always need some advice, and I have only one piece of advice I ever share: Don’t take advice from anyone. Ask your doula/doctor/midwife if you want to know something, be prepared to tell people you don’t want their advice, and trust in your instincts. You’ll be fine.

Tags: advice, confidence, first time mommies, pregnancy, pregnant, scared, secret .

Now what?

Posted on November 2, 2016 by urbansuburbanmommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

You spend all of that time learning how to be a good pregnant lady.

You learn how to do the whole crazy birth thing.

You learn how to feed them, burp them, change them and get them to sleep.

And then… They go and turn into full fledged human beings on you.

Now what?

There’s no more stressing over whether they’re hitting their milestones or what foods to introduce. They’re good.

There’s no more cute outfits. They know what they like.

There’s no more shoving them in a car seat and taking them where you want. It’s all a negotiation and hopes for good behaviour.

They didn’t prepare me for this stage in all of those motherhood books. I was so busy getting to be good at being pregnant and getting through the infant stage that I had no idea how confounding the big boy stage would be.

what-now-beach

My sons are 6 and 8. It’s fun and exciting to see the people they are, the minds they’re starting to develop, the activities they’re starting to excel in.

But I can’t help but feeling that I’m along for the ride and barely holding on for dear life. Please tell me I’m not the only one! I have no clue about Pokémon or Beyblades or hockey. In fact, sitting around a cold rink early on Saturday mornings was the LAST thing I wanted to do, but since the boys like it, I do it.

Along for the ride.

While the start of motherhood comes with so many books and so many clearly defined dos and don’ts, by the time you get a few years in, it’s more of a surprise that unfolds around you.

And it’s fun. I’m glad I’m along for the ride.

I never wanted to stand around a cold hockey rink far too early on a Saturday morning. But seeing them get all geared up and shuffle along the ice is actually fun. Cold, but fun. Watching them learn to read, do math, learn how many eyes a bee has is exciting, kind of mind blowing, actually.

They come home from school and have a bunch of things to tell me that they’ve learned, that they’ve done with friends, that they’ve imagined and created. Now, I’ve learned not to ask what they did at school, because the certain answer to that question is “NOTHING!” But if I wait for them to get there, they start telling me, bit by bit, the minutiae of their days.

And it’s all just so incredible. An amazing part of the ride.

I love hearing about what they and their friends thought up. I love hearing about the jokes and the funny things and I feel my blood boil whenever anyone wrongs them.

This whole parenthood thing is crazy.

boys-zamboni-what-now

 

My mom made it look so easy. I thought parents knew everything, I thought they had all of the answers. I really thought when I became a mother that it would be that way.

I’m winging it.

Sometimes the moms on Facebook and the moms at the school and the moms in my circle make me wonder if everyone got the manual but me. I’m pretty sure they’re just along for the ride too…

But then I think, they seem happy, they’re becoming decent little human beings, they’re thriving – and that means I must be doing something right.

Right?

Tags: boys, funny things, growing up, jokes, mom, motherhood, outfits, parenthood .

Five times the kids won

Posted on October 24, 2016 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

My kids give me a run for my money, one of them does it like it’s his job. I never know what the day will hold, but this weekend I found myself looking for the hidden camera a few times. While I was at IKEA, I finally learned what a CODE 99 is.

Let me share that with you. Lost child. CODE 99 is a lost child.

goggle-shane

Yes, that was me shouting my kid’s name as the managers helped search for a six-year-old in bright blue stripes that everyone had “just seen over there” a few minutes ago…

He wasn’t lost. He was playing a world class game of hide-n-seek. Turns out I’m just not a worthy seeker.

So I licked my wounds as we finished making our way through IKEA. A few people stopped me to tell me they were happy to see I’d found my son. A few of them even tried to make me feel better with stories of the craziness they survived as parents.

It totally worked, and I have to share these four other times the kids won:

1. My mom is lost

The first man was about 70. As he wagged his finger at my little guy, his huge grin made it clear he’d been there many times. His son used to take off every single time they went to the grocery store, a shopping mall – or really anywhere. The kid would find someone to announce over the system “It appears Mrs. Graham – who also goes by Mommy – is lost in this store. Her son is at the front of the store worried about her. Mrs. Graham, is wearing a dress. Associates, please help Mrs. Graham to the front of the store.”

His wife lived in fear of leaving the house with their little boy!

2. You’re not my mom

One woman stopped to tell me that, when her little boy didn’t get his way and she’d start pulling him away by the hand, he’s start screaming “Help! She’s not my mom! Get this lady off of me!”

I really don’t know how you recover from that.

sullivan-floats

3. Where’s my purse?

One woman laughed as she shook her purse at me. “Consider yourself lucky that your kid doesn’t toss your purse out of the cart while you’re not looking. Her little ones thought it was hilarious to put her purse on a shelf when they were shopping. They usually didn’t remember where they’d put it! She said it happened so much that she stopped carrying a purse for years – she switched to coats with big pockets after her purse with all of her ID, keys, gloves and wallet went missing once – never to be found again!

It’s all perspective. My son is an angel in comparison.

4. Mom, are you stealing?

I was in the checkout line when the woman in front of me said, “Don’t worry, your little runner has nothing on my girl.” Turns out they’d seen a man getting arrested for shoplifting. Her daughter thought it would be very fun for the police to come visit her and her mommy. Her child’s take-away from witnessing the shoplifting was to yell, “Mommy, why are you stealing?” every time they’d leave a store. While she never got arrested, she also never got used to having security and store management ask her to come back in the store and let them take a look in her bag.

Can you imagine crossing the border with that in the back seat?

Honourable mention: Please don’t beat me

My mother-in-law likes to tell me the story from my husband’s childhood. When he didn’t get his way and she’d be getting stern with him in public, he’d drop to the ground and start yelling “Sorry mommy, please don’t beat me again! I’m sorry! I promise I won’t do it again – just don’t beat me!”

He was apparently quite convincing and she never got over the looks people would shoot her.

It really does take a village, and I was grateful for all of their commiserations. I’m sure there were a few people who thought my panicked, frantic search was a bit funny – I’m a by hysterical when I’m hysterical – but it had been 15 minutes of searching and I was really having some scary thoughts. Their stories helped me laugh it off and feel that I wasn’t the worst parent in the world. And seriously – number 4 really was the icing on the cake (actually the Diem cake was the icing on the cake – a little stop at the restaurant helped us all).

Tags: commiseration, hide-n-seek, hiding, laugh at yourself, stealing, takes a village .

My name is what?

Posted on October 20, 2016 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

Today was fun. I got to help a friend of mine decide what her new middle name will be.

(Zelda. I think it should be Zelda, don’t you agree?)

She told the epic sad tale of being named after her mom, both first and middle names, with her family choosing to use her middle name to identify her instead of her first name so that they would not confuse mother with daughter. That had always been the plan.

Wasn’t a very good plan.

danger-is-my-middle-name

Friends know what to call her, but any official use of her name – from doctors’ offices to legal proceedings – need to be conducted using her legal first name, and she hates it. Not only does she NOT identify with it, but she actually always thinks they’re referring to her mom, not her, when she hears it. It’s disassociated.

She’s finally decided it’s time to pay up and have her name changed legally.

As parents we put a lot of time, thought and effort into naming our kids. Some of us want unique names, some prefer family names, others just find something they like and stick with it. And then we saddle ourselves with finding a middle name “to go with” that first name.

Honestly, the only reason any kid has to hear their middle name is when they’ve done something so bad that their mother has to emphasize the severity of the crap they’re in by using each and every name, slowly and distinctly pronouncing each and every syllable of every name, from first to last.

Picking a name pretty much boils down to 5 options. Each has benefits, each has drawbacks:

1. Traditional western names.

Jane. Lucy. Matthew. David. Bruce. These traditional names are easy to spell and easy to pronounce. Some are biblical, most are very straight forward.

Pro: Your kid will always be able to find a keychain, mug and other travel memorabilia at rest stops with their actual name on it.

Con: They’re plain. (Not sure if that actually counts as a con. Nothing wrong with simple, easy to spell names.) They’re common and your child may end up in a classroom with several kids that have the same name. No fun in figuring out who will go by Sue, Suzy, Susan, Susie Q and so on.

2. Made-up-cuz-I-like-the-sound names.

Ah-buh-seh-duh (spelled ABCD. 2Kewl. Mavolethstesia. Shastella. All are music to your ears, and nobody will have the same name as your child.

Pro: Definite points for creativity. Easy for your kid to Google him or herself. Chances are the Hotmail account is still available.

Con: Nobody will ever pronounce that name correctly and you – and then your child – will forever be spelling out the name and creating easy ways for people to understand how to pronounce it.

Take it from a girl named Elisa. It’s like Lisa, but with an Eh on the front. My last name – actually both my married and my maiden last names – always need to be spelled out. I have grown ever tired of spelling my full name!

3. Random word names.

Apple. Saffron. Ace. Bunny. Beckett. Any noun, any cool nickname, anything that is usually used as a last name, these are usually pretty straight forward to spell, but not so common to call a little human being.

Pro: Again, originality. Heck, picking a random word gives you the opportunity to find a dictionary definition to suit your every ideology for who you want your child to be. Or just allows you to name your kid after your favourite fruit. Either way.

Con: There ain’t nothing at the gift shop with that name on it, but there’s bound to be some sort of cool signage come along with these random words.

4. Exotic names.

Paloma. Leandro. Celestina. Carys. Baglen. They certainly do hold some mystique.

Pro: They’re not terribly difficult to spell and will probably be known to a fair number of people, even though they may not be as common in circulation.

Con: Unless it’s an Italian gift shop, your precious isn’t getting a mug with their name – I think you’re obligated to travel to the name’s motherland at least once. Your child will often be mistaken for having that background. (Another one that’s not truly a con, but is more than likely what is going to happen.)

5. Cool names

Talulah. Electra. Otis. JayZ. Axel.  Heroes, fictional characters, strong names and strong words.

Pro: They’re very fashionable and fun to say. They may even have a sense of irony about them.

Con: Your kid is going to be asked if their parents were hipsters. Guaranteed. And some of these cool names create some big expectations to live up to.

A runner-up noteworthy category is the Creative spellers. You choose to spell it Dgegniphur – (Jennifer) and of course the second g is silent. Like in gnome or gnu don’t you know! Chaynne is pronounced Shane – Seriously. How can you miss that? And who could confuse whether to finish with one D or two – heck, why not make it a triple D when you go for Dafyddd, instead of the more common David. Someone once told me they knew a La-Sha – pronounced La Dash A – but I’m not sure if they were messing with me. That seems a bit much. While I think apostrophes are cool in names: K’san, De’wayne, Ja’ney – if you can use them in last names, why not in first names  – most of the other characters on the keyboard should be limited.

After spelling my name my whole life, I opted to give my kids names that they wouldn’t ever need to spell out. However, my husband and couldn’t help ourselves from having a bit of fun, so our older son’s middle name is Danger.

Danger is his middle name.

Oh yes it is.

1 Comment .
Tags: cons, creative names, danger is my middle name, difficult name, first name, middle name, name, pros .

The scary part of Halloween? Making the costume!

Posted on October 18, 2016 by Alexis Nicols Posted in The Struggle is Real .

“I need a cardboard box big enough to fit a four year-old.”

Don’t we all? That line has earned me my share of raised eyebrows this week.

I’ve been dreading Halloween this year. Over the summer, my precocious Nathan saw the Disney movie Wall•E.

photo: Fabian Vervelde

photo: Fabian Vervelde

Five hundred times. On repeat.

He can recite the entire script by heart. So can I. The animated feature chronicles the life of a small trash-collecting robot who, over the course of 700 years and a syrupy Disney script, becomes a sentient being. It was 90 minutes of my son’s favourite things: trash, trash compactors, robots, guns and trash compacting robots with guns.

Last month, when we were eagerly discussing Halloween (or as I call it – send your kids to work day), I asked him what he wanted to be.

Wall•E. He wants to be the robot. Crap.

I realize I’ve been lucky enough to coast by over the past three Halloweens. The first year, Nate wanted nothing to do with the freaky ghosts and vampires that came knocking at our door. He hid behind me the whole time, screaming.

The next year, he wanted to be a fireman, but only went out for 20 minutes before collapsing with exhaustion. Last year he was a fireman again, and finally made the connection between the length of time spent outdoors and the size of his stash.

It was a good year.

halloween-candy

So now Halloween is two weeks away and he has asked his Mama, a walking craft-phobic Pinterest Fail, to make him a robot costume. I am to arts and crafts what Trump is to temperament. Foreign and awkward.

This is what Wall•E looks like:

wall-e

I spent the first week of October paralyzed, unable to draft a simple plan. I knew I should have studied to be an Imagineer.

Pinterest offerings

Pinterest offerings

Finally, with Halloween fast approaching, I’ve been galvanized into action – collecting supplies, anything I can get my hands on, praying that I have enough paint to hide a multitude of mistakes.

I’ve watched YouTube videos, dissected pictures on Pinterest (damn you Pinterest), even checked online to make sure there wasn’t a Wall•E costume available (There isn’t. Unless you want to be a slutty Wall•E.)

As I get underway, I ask that you wish me luck.

Also, do you have a reciprocal saw I can borrow?

1 Comment .
Tags: boxes, costume, halloween, halloween costume, pinterest, power tools, wall-e, YouTube .

Hi, I’m tired. How are you?

Posted on October 7, 2016 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

photo: Alice Keeler

photo: Alice Keeler

How are you?

I’m tired.

Yah, me too.

I hear ya.

Yah, I feel your pain.

I swear, I have more conversations about being tired than I have about anything else. It comes up when I’m chatting with friends. It comes up when my colleagues are making small talk. It comes up when I’m talking to the cashier at the grocery.

Oh, or maybe the cashier was just being polite when she asked “How are you?” when it was my turn in the checkout line. Meh, I don’t care, I needed to whine.

Being tired is this weird badge of motherhood. We wear it on our chests like a blue ribbon we just won at the fair – if blue ribbons were emblazoned with neon and flashing lights, that is.

We talk about how tired we are as if we’ll be understood. As if we were to complain about it enough, maybe the next person will step back and say “Whoah, hold on a sec there, lady, you need sleep! Let me get you a blanket and some fluffy pillows, this needs to be fixed! Have mercy!”

(In case you’re wondering, that was narrated inside my head by the voice of John Stamos – and I have absolutely no idea why. I’m guessing the sleep deprivation is giving me Full House hallucinations?)

My kids like to wake up in the middle of the night – and my heart justifies the sleep interruption by telling myself that I should be there for my kids because they won’t need me like this forever. They won’t be, like, 23 and still running into my room. “Mommy! Wake up Mommy! I have an essay due tomorrow and I can’t think of a way to justify the existence of the ego in the conscious mind! Mommy, you have to stay up with me!”

But they need me now. They’re still little enough to need me, and I take some consolation in that. I also get woken when I hear the video games go on at 4am, when my 8 year old wakes himself up extra early to fit in a few hours of uninterrupted play, or when my 6 year old feels the urge to have a midnight meet-up with Ben & Jerry. That kind of drives me nuts. But I was the one who refused to sleep train them. (The jury is still out on whether I made the right decision with that one, but I don’t dwell…)

Sometimes moms-to-be actually dare to ask me if it’s really that bad. “That bad?” Those are the moments where I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to scare them, but I don’t want to lie.

But the truth is, I don’t know how I made it through the first two months, or the next two – or even the last 8 years. I haven’t felt well-rested more than maybe 5 or 6 days in that entire stretch. Even when I have a night without kids, they’ve trained me to wake, they’ve trained me that sleeping in is not feasible.

Somewhere around year 4 I had an unfortunate epiphany: Tired is the new normal.

Once I realized that craving the old, well-rested version of myself was futile, I seemed to resent it less, embrace exhaustion more, and just accept it. It was like the day I realized that my feet weren’t going back to their pre-pregnancy size and I finally got rid of the beautiful-but-too-small shoes.

photo: SharonaGott

photo: SharonaGott

But sleep deprivation really isn’t funny. It’s no joke. Lack of sleep and exhaustion wreaks havoc on your immune system and your general health. Not to mention that I’ve actually had moments of clarity when I’ve said to myself “You really shouldn’t be driving.” It’s frightening how many times I find myself driving and saying this to myself in the rear-view mirror.

Plus it makes me short with the kids sometimes. But they brought that on themselves…

We’re just not allowed a “Tired Break” from life. We are still expected to chase children, do our jobs, take care of our homes, be interesting, relate well, deal with schools, insurance companies, the mortgage, jobs, colleagues, the grocery store cashier and the neighbours. Plus the hubby – we’re supposed to feel sexy and sensual and want to spend time in bed NOT sleeping.

Sleep deprivation – I wasn’t prepared for this and I don’t get it. It’s the one part of motherhood I don’t remember being told in any convincing way. I didn’t know a human being could actually survive being this tired. All. The. Time.

And then one look in one of my boy’s faces, and I know I’d give up even more sleep – all of it – just for them.

Tags: exhaustion, Full House, John Stamos, not sleeping, sleep deprivation, sleepless .

Turn. It. Down.

Posted on October 6, 2016 by urbansuburbanmommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

You’ve got kids.

You’re at a restaurant.

I’m shooting you dirty looks. And it’s not your kid’s fault, it’s yours.

Yah, that’s right – my death ray glare is locking on target, and you’re in the crosshairs.

Turn. The. Volume. Down.

baby-iphone

I don’t know what’s going on lately – and believe me, I understand survival parenting better than most – but what is up with blaring the volume on your phone or tablet? You keep the kid quiet so you can enjoy a meal – to the detriment of everyone around you.

Honestly, I get it. I’m actually not quite sure how my parents did it without technology, and a well-timed iPhone bribe will get me what I need, but I won’t do it at the expense of every single other adult in the room.

I was astounded the first time it happened – we were out at a restaurant that was NOT a family restaurant. The napkins were not paper, the candles were NOT electric and the ambient music was NOT ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ – well, it wasn’t when we arrived. But another group decided that their fussing 2 year old could be pacified with videos. The mom promptly propped her phone on the table. At full volume.

Full volume.

Why, when I’m not obligated to listen to my own child’s grating music, would another parent impose that on me?

I wouldn’t have batted an eyelash if it had been a crying kid; a tantruming kid; a giggling, laughing silly kid. But it wasn’t the kid, it was the parent unparenting. It was obnoxious.

It wasn’t the only time it’s happened. It seems where once we had a modicum of grace and consideration, today, some have forgotten that the rest of the world is right there.

Whenever I turn on a device for my children, whether it be a waiting room, an event or even a restaurant, I have had earbuds for my children, or put the volume so low that it’s barely audible to me, never beyond me.

I get it. We all need a break. Sometimes finishing dinner with the little muppets it all a parent needs to keep sane. But next time, does the volume need to be set to max?

Parents don’t. Please don’t.

Tags: consideration, devices, inconsiderate, iphone, music, screens, tablet, unparent .

Smotherhood

Posted on September 28, 2016 by urbansuburbanmommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

My husband keeps saying things like “Give them a longer leash” and “Stop hovering” – and it’s finally starting to sink in. My boys aren’t babies any more, they need a little more independence and opportunity to spread their wings.

But I *can’t* let them. Because I’m ‘that’ mom.

photo: Vicchi

photo: Vicchi

 

I have spent 8 years behaving like there’s a pedophile hiding behind every tree just waiting for me to take my eyes off of one of my boys for 3 consecutive seconds. I’m so sure I’ve got the cutest boys in the world that there are people waiting to snatch one should I drop my guard for literally seconds. I’ve been neurotically hovering and monitoring and keeping tabs for 8 years now, and I’m finding it a bit hard to break the habit.

photo: Gwidion M. Williams

photo: Gwidion M. Williams

You’re either thinking:

A) Of course you can’t take your eyes off of your kids, what is your husband thinking?

or

B) Are you insane? Let them be kids.

For 8 years I’ve said to my husband “I just can’t take chances if I can’t handle the consequences.” I don’t recognize myself when I say bizarre ‘grown-up’ phrases like that because I was the cool one, the care-free one, the one that flew by the seat of my pants, hitch-hiked across Europe, went traveling solo – independent as the day is long from a very early age, and I turned out just fine.

But I’m not that person any more. When it comes to my children, I become utterly and freakishly helicopter-ish.

At 6 and 8, both of them are physically a few years bigger than most of their friends. We grow them big. ’99th percentile’ big. They’re loud. Very, very loud. Nobody in their right mind would be silly enough to grab big, loud boys and think they could make a stealthy get-away – but still I can’t calm down.

I don’t want to be this crazy, but I am. Parenthood has done this to me.

I swear, I don’t know if I’ll ever be normal again.

photo: Ruth Hartnup

photo: Ruth Hartnup

But I’m trying. This summer I let them play in the park, more than 10 feet away from me. I let them go swimming without going into the pool myself. I trusted the lifeguards, I trusted my ability to watch and react, instead of bracing for the imminent worst case scenario.

(Did I mention my husband refers to me as Worst Case Scenario Girl? Yes, my super-power is hysterical and excessive worrying about things least likely to come to pass.)

He fought me on the leash – dare I say “put his foot down” about it. The little one has always been a runner, a wanderer, a hard one to keep by my side. When I can’t see him I will often joke that he’s probably already gotten into his Über, and is half way across town. (But in my head it’s not a joke). I wanted to put a leash on him to save my own sanity, but my husband was having NONE of it.

None.

I have made it this far! Anyone else having trouble giving up the hovering?

 

Tags: hard, helicopter, hover, hovering, independence, leash, parenting, swimming, worst case scenario .
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