Urban Suburban Mommy

Tag Archives: expectations

What’s the perfect age for making babies?

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

Is there really a perfect age to have a baby? If you have your babies in your teens, you’re too young. Early 20s? You’ve still got so much to see and do – people will tell you to finish school, travel, establish your career, get some life experience. All of a sudden you cross that threshold. You’re living your life, enjoying your career – there are promotions on the horizon and you’ve developed a lifestyle.

Once 30, those that have coupled up and condo’d up are being asked when the wedding will be – how they’re going to fit a baby into their one-bedroom hip city condo. Those that are single at 30 are now feeling the pressure from friends, family and society to just find that perfect partner. Mr. Right, Mrs. Right, just couple up – you don’t want to miss out.

Those that make it childless to their late 30s are now pitied. “There’s still time” people will offer, trying to be nice, working out the timeline: Find a partner, 18 months you’ll get married, another year and you’ll have a baby, you might actually be able to fit in a second if you find one right away!” And then you hit 40 and people start telling you there’s still time. You can do this on your own. Fertility clinics, IVF, IUI, frozen embryos.

It’s too bad society can’t stop challenging people to become parents at the perfect age.

I finally figured out the perfect age – there isn’t one.

I went through it myself and I hated when people would give me their opinion. I didn’t want kids young – I wasn’t ready to settle down. I was 29 and recall a friend offering to set me up with a guy who “Wasn’t that bad.” It felt like, at 29, I’d already missed out on top tier potential partners but could still pick one out in the scratch-n-dent partner section.

At 32, I started dating my hubby. The first time my father met him, he asked him when we were getting married. Before hubby could stop choking on his tongue, my father said “Don’t worry about getting married, just have babies.” Although we joke about that one to this day, it was clear that I was falling behind on the schedule of life.

When I got my BFP at 36, my doctor responded with the term “Late Maternal Age.” Like that’s the new “congratulations” of the late 30’s crowd.

Fergoodnessakes.

My friend had her first a few weeks before she turned 40. Her Facebook announcement of her pregnancy was “We’re so excited to let everyone know we’re getting #1 in before 40! Due in April!” Like 40 is a deadline. Like 39 is somehow magically much younger than 40 – but a few months more will change EVERYTHING.

Late maternal age worked out well for me. It’s true, there are concerns that come along with age – egg health, physical health. But it comes with benefits – life experience, stability and that wisdom they say comes with age. Maybe.

Is parenting at 40 the perfect age? It’s not for everyone, but it’s worked out well for me.

Will “Mom” for seeds

Posted on by Posted in The Struggle is Real .

There are 48 hours till Mother’s Day, and I’m running through midtown Toronto looking for seeds.

Not just any seeds. “Basil, mama,” came the edict from my oldest boy. “I want to plant basil. And sunflowers.” Right. No problem.

Only, it seems there aren’t any basil seeds in Toronto. Canadian Tire, nope. Home Depot, zilch. I even asked the convenience store lady to check her stockroom to see if there was anything that hadn’t germinated yet.

I’m not allowed back in her store.

Sunflowers are another challenge. Apparently there’s no demand for flowers that reach six feet tall in a city choked by condos. But my kid wants great, flowering behemoths on the tiny Juliet balcony of our two-bedroom rental.

Did I mention there are two more days till Mother’s Day?

It doesn’t matter. The day will be spent making everyone pancakes while slurping lukewarm coffee, opening handmade cards that I helped create, then carrying on, business as usual. Traditionally, there’s a meltdown around 3-ish. This year, the boys are two and five, so it’s anyone’s game.

I know the score. I don’t expect anything super special on Mother’s Day. We don’t go out to a restaurant because, kids.

 

“Mother’s Day” is a misnomer, kind of like “work/life balance” and “equal pay”. In my home, it’s a vague, esoteric term that acknowledges the woman who does roughly 90% of the work for 10% of the credit.

Here’s the weird part: I don’t care.

No one “Moms” for the glory. It’s the most thankless, exhausting, frustrating, maddening, rewarding job in the world. Who willingly subjects themselves to miniature despots and tiny tyrants without the promise of a paycheque or, at the very least, vacation pay? Moms do it willingly, joyfully, sometimes more than once.

If a grown-up asked me to make him scrambled eggs, then promptly threw them on the floor like I was trying to kill him, I might just reach for a baseball bat. “Momming” is different than loving. Of course I love my kids. That’s why they’re still living here.

Mother’s Day is less about me, and more about what I represent to my kids, beyond “the help” or the ATM. I am their safe place, their unconditional love and their biggest cheerleader. Every day I wake up with anxiety and feelings of inadequacy. And every day I push past it and keep my kids happy, healthy and loved. I “Mom” pretty hard.

So Nathan wants basil and sunflower seeds. He wants to put his hands in the dirt and dig and water something and watch it grow. He wants to hold “real alive” worms in his hands and tell me how they dig tunnels under the ground so the plants can thrive. So this weekend, he’ll plant and I’ll watch him grow.

What a great Mother’s Day present.

Parents, presents and profiteers

Posted on by 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.

 

The birthday party rant

Posted on by Posted in The Struggle is Real .

I’m betting I’m not alone in this, so feel free to give me your 2 cents.

Birthday parties drive me nuts! These kid parties are out of control.

Now let me preface this rant by saying, I love throwing birthday parties, I love everything birthday! I think it’s a great opportunity to celebrate. That’s not the problem. It’s the insanity that has started to swirl around the birthday party expectations that’s making my head hurt.

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The presents:

I have a $25 limit on birthday presents. I like my kids to pick out their own gifts, since they know what their friends like. I actually take the time to have my kids add stickers, make cards, draw on the paper and have some fun with it – as long as I’ve remembered before the party and am not racing across town to try to get them there on time and whipping into the local toystore last minute (thank goodness they offer free gift-wrapping services!!).

But I’ve got 2 kids. They’re well liked and get invited to a lot of birthdays. We’ve had weekends where there are two birthday parties for each kid. $100 in presents, and that’s not the only parties they’ll have that month. It gets EXPENSIVE! People complain about the cost of daycare, the cost of diapers, well here I am to add birthday gifts to that list! Never mind that my weekends are not my own.

I kind of like these new ‘group gift’ sites that handle the guestlist. There’s one that is used pretty commonly around here, where the child receives money and splits it between a specific present they’re saving for and a charity of their choice. So instead of 25 Lego sets the kid can buy a bike and donate to the local animal rescue. You just transfer the cash right then and there while you’re RSVPing and you’re done.

I don’t love the ‘expectation’ of gift giving, even though it absolutely is an expectation, but it’s organized and easy and so I’m good with this.

The venues:

I feel lucky that my kids are spring and summer babies, I can have parties outdoors. Living in the city, I have a small house that doesn’t easily accommodate more than 5 kids at a time. I feel they won’t remember specific gifts, but they will remember the big, fun parties, so I try to throw them at a community centre party room or the big park at the end of the street. I like to invite the whole class and always offer that siblings are welcome. I find it no trouble at all to bake up a few extra cupcakes and make it fun for all.

I can’t understand some of the venues in the city. I just can’t justify $500, $600, $800 on a kid’s birthday party! It’s not even so much about the money (although I think that is steep!), it’s about the expectations we’re creating for our kids. With a small home, I get it. We need to find a venue, and frankly, it’s pretty sweet to be able to pack up and leave the mess for someone else to clean up, but the aquarium, science centre, museum – these ‘high-end’ party venues don’t make sense to me. The guest list is extremely small, the cost per child very high and then, it seems, there’s a need to outdo other parties, or ‘better than last year’ even.

SMDH. They’re 6, they don’t even know.

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The birthday child:

These big venues, the big productions, this can be a bit overwhelming to the birthday child. Know what I hate the most though?

All of the presents.

In years past I tried “your presence is presents enough” type cuteness for No Gifts Please, but they got gifts anyways. And the kids want gifts. My husband pointed out that it was all part of the party expectations for our children. That they would be sad to have all their gifts taken away. Instead, they open them up slowly, over the following few weeks, and enjoy them one at a time – instead of opening them all at once and being overwhelmed and undergrateful.

And all of the gifts – they have enough toys. As much as I LOOOOOOVE Lego, superheroes, trucks, Skylanders and Transformers, they have enough. We tried the “one in, one out” method, but it was painful. We’ve asked them to donate, but I don’t think they’re quite ready for that yet, last year my older one was so stressed out about having to pick what to give away and not enjoy that I quickly put the kybosh on that idea. Why have a party if it’s going to stress your kid out?

The invitations:

I love designing their invitations. I have them printed up at the local copy store and even though I get rave compliments – and offer to do them for other mamas – they’re actually cheaper than buying invites. Especially when you’re handing out 30-40 of them. (Or 60 – like last year, when instead of giving them out to the daycare and the class, Urban Suburban Daddy misunderstood my instructions and stuffed them into all of the daycare cubbies of the other two classes. So we had 3 daycare classes, a school class plus siblings. Lesson learned.)

I also email the invitations to all of the parents. I never know if the kids get them home or not. My son occasionally gives me an invite a few days after a party has already happened.

The politics & the fallout:

“I invited him but he didn’t invite me.”

“I wanted to sit next to the birthday girl.”

“I wanted the piece of cake with the blue rose.”

AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHFFFFFFFTTTTTT

Seriously. Sit back at a birthday party and notice how many little squabbles occur over the course of the 2.5 hours. Kids have developed these crazy expectations and are indulged in ways they can’t manage. They are fed junk food and sugared up, and then sent home to mama a very wired, hot mess.

Is it a drop-off party? Do I stay? Do I go? What do I do with my other child if it’s not a drop-off party and numbers are a big deal? I’ve tried to pay for my other child, I’ve tried to find another parent who can take mine. I’ve tried to understand why my son would sooner give up his XBOX than miss a birthday party. It’s a social standing and a testament of friendship – plus they get to do all kinds of cool stuff, from circus classes to science experiments, to being taught how to make pizza.

I have no idea what the solution is, but I feel much better getting that off of my chest!

Suburban Mommy Michelle adds: My son just recently started JK and I too feel like I have now become part of the birthday turbine.  In fact, I do remember dropping a pretty penny on my son’s last 4 birthdays.  In fact, for what I spent on his 1st birthday party, our family could have enjoyed a vacation instead!  Our second is born in the summer, so hoping this helps with eliminating some costs on venue.  I do agree that birthdays are out of control – now that I think of it – so is every holiday.  We have become such a commercial society.  Perhaps instead of presents this year, I will ask if parents minded chipping in for things like daycare, diapers, formula..you get the drill.

 

 

How I became a pumping machine

Posted on by Posted in The Struggle is Real .

Krista Holmes shares her personal story about breastfeeding while trying to be a working mama.

Even before my son was born, I knew that I wanted to be able to pump – mostly, for the freedom and possibilities that it provided. Little did I know that 4.5 months later I would re-enter the workforce (more on that some other time) and become a pumping machine.

About 3 weeks before Tyson was born, my husband and I headed down to Babies’R’Us to purchase the pimped out version of a breast pump. Unlike many mothers, I hadn’t read too much on being a first time mother for fear of overwhelming an already anxious me. But pumping was something that I wanted to do. So I did the research and settled on my brand: a Medela Freestyle Breastpump. Expensive, but worth every penny.

Within 3 weeks of being born, we had a 50th birthday party to attend. I was SO excited to be going – just a few hours for my husband and I to be out.

Without a baby.

Or diapers.

Oh, and did I mention that there was wine?

I pumped a handful of times leading up to this night out, so I felt like I was prepared.

It was just up to the Medela bottle and my son to keep the night going. We made it through dinner and a few drinks when my mom texted to say that Tyson drank all of the milk!

WHAT? All of the milk? But I had left over 16oz! It was time to get back to my parents’ home – luckily I had more milk in the fridge at home.

To be honest, I had only breastfed my child up until this point, and of course I had NO idea how much milk he was getting – just that he had wet diapers and that he was growing; essentially the main things that we first time mom’s look for. So, it was time to evaluate this whole pumping situation.

Was it worth it?

You betcha it was! Within another week or two, we met up with friends for a birthday dinner. Except the dinner was almost an hour from our house, the restaurant was behind schedule on reservations and our friends (all still childless) were all late. I kept in touch with my parents and learned that my child was doing well on the 4 bottles that I left him. It was great that things were going so well. Well at least for them…..

This was the longest that I’d gone without feeding my child or pumping, and I was ready to burst!

You know when you see sausages in the pan and they just burst all of a sudden? That was the state of my boobs. Both of them. And since we hadn’t received our food yet and had the long drive ahead, I had to do it – pump and dump. But hand expressing? Thankfully we had reviewed that in prenatal class so I was good to go.

Fast forward 3 months later, I was applying for a job. Yes, I was ready (mostly) to return to the workforce. But it meant so many more steps now as a mom. Other than the obvious – Getting 2 of us ready. Being on time. Not looking like a zombie. It meant getting up even earlier.

After chatting with a few other moms that went back to work early, I felt as prepared as I could be. So I pumped, often, for the 2 weeks leading up to the start of the job. I had my “just in case” pumps all bagged up and labeled.

I had pumped for over 3 months now and I seemed to have it down pat. The pimped out breast pump that we had purchased was awesome. The Medela Freestyle would allow me to pump from both breasts WHILE DOING SOMETHING ELSE! Like watering the plants that handn’t received a drop of H20 in weeks. Or laundry. Or reading a book. Or WHATEVER! I could still DO things while pumping. Obviously my son needed to be considered (I should add here that I miss those long naps) but pumping bottles could be my middle name.

feeding my baby

But don’t think that I didn’t have issues. Sometimes I’d be too exhausted. Or sometimes I’d spill when pouring from bottle to bag. Or sometimes I’d have to pump due to the pain from one of the many blocked milk ducts that I experienced. And then there was leaking, through my shirt and sweater.

If I provide any words of wisdom, it is to plan when you’re going to. And where.

I might pump while breastfeeding my son (side note – I think that mothers who have twins and breastfeed both at the same time deserve a medal), or pump while he was showering with my husband. But I always tried to plan it. I think that planning helped because then I was in the right mind frame to pump. I would have time to grab a drink (stay hydrated), and grab my iPhone, a book or a magazine. And then find a comfy place. Though I have been known to pump while driving out of town, while on a conference call, and even once while walking on a trail with another mother.

When we started our son on cereal, we were able to use most of the frozen milk that I had in the cereal. And then we mixed some of the breast milk when introducing homo milk.

For those that find it odd that I returned to work early, it wasn’t because I needed to. It was because I wanted to. Sure there were days when I second guessed my decision, but then I remember that my sanity was still intact, and that in fact, I might’ve been a better mom to our son. For now, from one pumping-breastfeeding-foodnatzi-mother to another, pumping gave me options. It gave me comfort. But most of all, it gave the option of someone else feeding my son. And here I am 17 months later, and I still pump the occasional time (usually it’s to avoid a blocked milk duct).

I think that with the right pump, the right surroundings, and of course the right support, pumping can be something that can really help a mother have some time. Kudos to those mothers who exclusively pump – that takes discipline!

 

Krista HolmsKrista Holmes,KH Mgmt, became a mother in the summer of 2014. She works behind-the-scenes in the Canadian music industry, designs several social media campaigns and manages special events. Her love for motherhood & music can be found on her blog, mommylovesmusic.wordpress.com.

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