Urban Suburban Mommy

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Mom Vision

Posted on by Posted in The Struggle is Real .

I booked the family’s annual eye exams – and when we saw our optometrist, I asked her to explain why my eyes work so differently than the rest of my family. She laughed and handed me a pamphlet on Mom Vision.

Apparently something happens to our eyes when we have children. It’s like our super power. It’s not a fun super power like flying or super speed. Now those would be useful. No, it’s more of a bummer super power, actually the top of the pile of rejected super powers in my personal opinion.

Mom vision is that uncanny ability we have to see things that are right in front of us. Not only the ability to see things that are there, but the ability to see the things your kids are doing behind you.

I’d first realized I was experiencing vision issues when I’d look at my kids’ messy rooms and tell them to clean up, only to hear “Mom, they’re clean!” How can they see a clean room when I can see dirty clothes on the floor, toys on every surface and a hoarder’s supply of gum wrappers behind one of the beds. (Seriously, I don’t recall even buying that gum.)

How, when we are looking at the same room, do they not see the mess – but I do?

Mom vision.

How can we go to the same bathroom and they don’t see the empty toilet paper roll that needs changing – but I do?

How come they have to ask where the orange juice is, and can’t see it on the middle shelf of the fridge where it always is?

Mom vision.

Mom vision enables us to see the dirt on their favourite shirt even when they put it on and think it’s fine to wear. It enables us to see their beds are not made. Mom vision is why we’re telling them to wash their hands all the time – how do they not see when their hands are covered in mud or paint or spaghetti sauce???

The pamphlet on Mom vision was very helpful. If you have any of the above-mentioned challenges, you’ve got mom vision. The pamphlet described varying degrees of mom vision.

I have a severe case.

For example, I’m able to tell one of my boys not to touch the other, just mere seconds before he does – even without watching him! I’m able to say “Put that down right now!” without turning around and actually getting a visual of my little darling trying to abscond with my iPhone. When my mom used to do that to me I’d wonder if she really did have eyes in the back of her head. And then, with the arrival of my first child, my mom vision came in.

The bad news is that there is no cure for Mom vision. The good news is, it may become less prominent over time. It seems to linger for the first 15 to 20 years of your child’s life, though it does tend to improve significantly when your child moves out on their own.

The pamphlet does warn, in the fine print, that the time period is per child, and restarts with every new member of the family. It also warns that some spouses and neighbourhood kids may cause symptoms to worsen significantly.

Temporary relief may be found by ingesting wine, utilizing the services of a babysitter or treatments at the spa. It is not recommended to use Mom vision in other people’s homes or on other people’s children, though it may be necessary to explain the findings of your Mom vision to your children several times for best results.

 

 

Holiday Gift Guide – Urban Suburban Mommy Style

Posted on by Posted in The Best You, Urban Suburban Mommy .

Everyone needs some shopping inspiration. Gift guide after gift guide explains what to get the children, or the hubby, or the boss, or the teacher.

Well, what about mom? What do we want? You know what we want – we all want the same thing. So don’t read this gift guide for yourself, share this gift guide with the Urban Suburban Daddies, the Urban Suburban Uncles, The Urban Suburban Girlfriends, Boyfriends, Fiancés and Friends.

This is what just about any mom wants for the holidays:

A retreat.

She stays up too late sewing the costumes for class plays the night before. She runs around looking for shirts that don’t itch. She knows where every favourite toy and stuffie is at all times. She needs a break. A weekend with no responsibility. A morning with no alarm clocks. A night with no bedtime fights. A meal with no interruptions. With spouse? With friends? Let her pick.

A clean house.

We all know that housework should be shared. It’s not mom’s domain. But we all know who gets it done. Give her a few weeks off with housekeeping services. Seriously, the cost of making mom happy, giving her back some free time and putting a smile on her face is a fraction of what marriage counselling costs per month. Don’t argue about whose turn it is to vacuum, pay for the privilege and get it done.

Deep relaxation.

Mom’s got a busy life and she puts everyone else first. Everyone is served and eating before she finishes and sits down. She got the lunches made and the kids dressed for school, and threw her hair in a messy bun (thank goodness they’re in style!), forgoing a shower and blow-dry. She totally needs a day at the spa. Go for one of the good ones with water therapies and fancy tea stations, and book her a massage. A deep tissue massage. And DON’T request a female masseuse – unless you think that’s HER preference. Hold it together and let her have an afternoon off. She’s coming home to you all refreshed and relaxed up.

Some free time.

She talks about how much she misses yoga classes. She used to belong to a book club. She’s stopped going to the mall and orders all her clothing online. Face it, she loves her family, but families require endless amounts of mom’s time. Give her the gift of a few reliable hours a week that are hers and hers alone, to regain that favourite activity. Getting the kids to activities, feeding them dinner, doing the bedtime routine – it’s a big job, but you can do it without her a few hours a week!

Wine.

Mom needs wine. A spare bottle of something just a bit nicer than she’d usually buy herself. You know what? Make it 2.

Parenting solo for one day: A timeline

Posted on by Posted in The Struggle is Real .

There are typically two of us on the weekend, but when my husband has a big work event, his evenings and weekends get slammed. The following is a timeline of one day of parenting alone. I don’t know how how single parents do this.

Respect.

  • 8:30 a.m. – Daddy leaves to go to work
  • 9:30 – We spend the morning with family, enjoying the great outdoors and watching people make maple syrup. Nate eats his body weight in maple sugar candy, but I’m not worried. What can go wrong?
  • 11:00 – We get home. Nate has pushed the car all the way home while shrieking like an ambulance. That first part is mostly untrue.
  • 12:00 p.m. – Nate wants lunch. I make the lunch. Nate does not recall ever asking for lunch and would never EVER eat anything I make and refuses to touch it. At least he doesn’t throw it.
  • 1:20 – I suggest we go to the park.
  • 1:22 – I smell something.
  • 1:40 – After changing the baby (aka Poomicus Colossus), we pack up and 30 minutes later are on our way.
  • 2:20 – At the park, some older kids start laughing at Nate when he tries to initiate a game of “Good Guys/Bad Guys”. It’s a struggle not to interfere
    a) because he doesn’t know they’re laughing at him and
    b) apparently it’s considered bad parenting to fight all of your child’s battles for him. Pfft.
  • 2:30 – I will not step on their necks, I will not crush them like bugs, I will let my son figure it out.
  • 2:32 – Consider writing my own parenting book called “Mess With My Son And I’ll Come At You Like A Cracked-Out Howler Monkey.” I would buy that book.
  • 2:35 – Good news: no tears, no fights and he found another kid to play with. Crisis averted.
  • 4:30 – Home again. Nate wants to do arts and crafts. I set the dining room table up with every conceivable craft accoutrement imaginable. He writes the numbers “1” and “0” over and over again on a piece of paper. I wonder briefly if he’s writing binary code for “my mom is phoning it in today. Send backup.”
  • 4:35 – Nate is done with arts and crafts. He spends the next 15 minutes helping me make toast. It should be noted that no one actually wants to eat toast. He just enjoys putting bread in the toaster and pressing the lever down.
  • 5:30 – Dinner. Nate eats a cream cheese bagel and I make macaroni with tuna for me and the baby. He eats none of the macaroni, but has a lot of fun decorating the floor. I get one lukewarm mouthful and eat the rest off his chin. Surprisingly, no one wants fruit.
  • 6:15 – Nate wants to watch cartoons on my phone, even though his favourite show is on TV. Ben’s running around with a bowl on his head and eating a FreshCo receipt. I take this opportunity to drink my last glass of wine. It was left uncorked and I detect notes of both fruit and stale vinegar. I give zero poops.
  • 6:16 – We’ve officially gone feral.
  • 7:00 – I go to the washroom by myself, lock the door and spend 10 blissful minutes alone.
  • 7:00 – None of that happened. I peed with the door wide open, the baby in the bathtub and Nathan on the stool, asking me why I don’t have a penis.
  • 7:45 – Bedtime. Nate sleeps in my bed and the baby wakes up 14 times before I give up and bring him into the bed with us, where he proceeds to nurse happily for the rest of the night. Everyone sleeps.
  • 8:30 – Daddy comes home, wakes me up and tells me how exhausted he is.