Friday, August 19, 2011
The Mode Life
In my infinite amounts of spare time I have made the logical decision to become a regular contributor on The Mode Life. The website was started by my neighbor who lives just two houses down the street. The concept is simple and cool. Basically, 30-40 ladies (and counting) use the website to post articles that are honest, refreshing, and relatable. The website is described as follows:
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Unglamorous
I'm quickly realizing the second pregnancy is far less glamorous than the first. I can remember the day I found out I was pregnant with Chloe. My mind went straight from a vision of me with a round belly, skinny legs (even though I didn't have them to start with - it was my vision - give me a break), and a healthy glow, straight to a vision of me quietly rocking my peaceful baby in my meticulously maintained nursery.
There was nothing about the crazy, hormonal mood swings that follow closely behind the birth. Nothing about feeling sad that I could no longer feel the baby kicking my insides. Nothing about crying in the shower for a half hour just to cry. Nothing about berating my sweet husband for the most minuscule things.
In my vision there was nothing about spraying water from a squirt bottle on my girl parts while trying to pee. There was nothing about the sheer panic associated with "the first poop." There was nothing about suffering through weeks of maxi pads and ice packs. Nothing about stitches tearing and limping up the stairs.
There was nothing about hovering over the baby's crib, heart stopped, waiting for signs that she is still breathing. Nothing about watching her scream as she gets her first vaccinations. Nothing about being so tired and defeated that I have not the energy to shave my legs.
There is no other way to describe the second pregnancy other than being simply unglamorous. With these harsh realities so vivid in my mind, there is no way to find the bliss that I once had when I was pregnant with Chloe. The first pregnancy was such a dream. I took two or three hour naps whenever I wanted. I got pedicures to rest my tired feet. I had the time to read every book ever written on pregnancy. I was so happy. So full of love. So clueless.
Don't get me wrong, I feel so blessed that God has trusted me to be the Mama of another precious baby. I just wish that I had the time or energy to even think of this baby. I'm so busy working and cleaning and parenting and running around that I forget I'm even pregnant 95% of the time. I realize now that the first pregnancy is such an amazing time in one's life. There is really nothing quite like it.
This pregnancy does have certain benefits, though. Like, I have had less than an hour of my spare time to worry about deformities, rare diseases, miscarriage, etc. compared to the freaky nightly worry spiral I had with Chloe. I'm not worried about the actual birth and "if I can do it," because I know I can, and I'm psyched to do it again. I have a whole closet full of maternity clothes from my first pregnancy and from sweet friends who have given me their hand-me-downs.
I guess, in a sense, the second pregnancy is just as refreshing as it is unglamorous. Knowing what to expect this time gives me a new sense of preparedness. This time I know that I will need help wherever I can get it whether it be meals, babysitters, or a cleaning service. I can't do it all and that is okay. No one expects me to. The only person who expected me to do it all the first time was me. This time I won't be shocked to smell of sour milk more often than not. I will know that breastfeeding will be great once we get through those dark days. I will know that my baby growing up is not quite as devastating as it seems. And I will know that there will be a day when our family will all sleep again.
Paul warned me that I shouldn't write about this, because it might ruin things for my friends who are pregnant for the first time, but I happen to know that it doesn't matter. People can warn you about how hard it is going to be every day that you are pregnant and it won't matter. It is just like "enjoy it now, they grow up so fast." You never really know, or even believe it, until you experience it yourself.
There was nothing about the crazy, hormonal mood swings that follow closely behind the birth. Nothing about feeling sad that I could no longer feel the baby kicking my insides. Nothing about crying in the shower for a half hour just to cry. Nothing about berating my sweet husband for the most minuscule things.
In my vision there was nothing about spraying water from a squirt bottle on my girl parts while trying to pee. There was nothing about the sheer panic associated with "the first poop." There was nothing about suffering through weeks of maxi pads and ice packs. Nothing about stitches tearing and limping up the stairs.
There was nothing about hovering over the baby's crib, heart stopped, waiting for signs that she is still breathing. Nothing about watching her scream as she gets her first vaccinations. Nothing about being so tired and defeated that I have not the energy to shave my legs.
There is no other way to describe the second pregnancy other than being simply unglamorous. With these harsh realities so vivid in my mind, there is no way to find the bliss that I once had when I was pregnant with Chloe. The first pregnancy was such a dream. I took two or three hour naps whenever I wanted. I got pedicures to rest my tired feet. I had the time to read every book ever written on pregnancy. I was so happy. So full of love. So clueless.
Don't get me wrong, I feel so blessed that God has trusted me to be the Mama of another precious baby. I just wish that I had the time or energy to even think of this baby. I'm so busy working and cleaning and parenting and running around that I forget I'm even pregnant 95% of the time. I realize now that the first pregnancy is such an amazing time in one's life. There is really nothing quite like it.
This pregnancy does have certain benefits, though. Like, I have had less than an hour of my spare time to worry about deformities, rare diseases, miscarriage, etc. compared to the freaky nightly worry spiral I had with Chloe. I'm not worried about the actual birth and "if I can do it," because I know I can, and I'm psyched to do it again. I have a whole closet full of maternity clothes from my first pregnancy and from sweet friends who have given me their hand-me-downs.
I guess, in a sense, the second pregnancy is just as refreshing as it is unglamorous. Knowing what to expect this time gives me a new sense of preparedness. This time I know that I will need help wherever I can get it whether it be meals, babysitters, or a cleaning service. I can't do it all and that is okay. No one expects me to. The only person who expected me to do it all the first time was me. This time I won't be shocked to smell of sour milk more often than not. I will know that breastfeeding will be great once we get through those dark days. I will know that my baby growing up is not quite as devastating as it seems. And I will know that there will be a day when our family will all sleep again.
Paul warned me that I shouldn't write about this, because it might ruin things for my friends who are pregnant for the first time, but I happen to know that it doesn't matter. People can warn you about how hard it is going to be every day that you are pregnant and it won't matter. It is just like "enjoy it now, they grow up so fast." You never really know, or even believe it, until you experience it yourself.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Dear Cassie,
Stop kidding yourself.
Stop thinking you are going to start working out six weeks postpartum. Stop thinking you'll be in a bikini by June. Stop thinking you'll be in your old wardrobe by the time you go back to work. You've done this before, haven't you? Don't you remember how many times the baby wakes up at night? Don't you remember how your house turns into a total shithole? Don't you remember how many visitors you'll have to entertain? Don't you remember answering emails and working when the baby was napping when you should have been napping yourself? Don't you remember how much it hurts - you know - down there? Don't you remember that there is no time to work out? No time at all. Not when your baby wakes up at 12:00 a.m., 3:00 a.m., and 5:30 a.m. Don't you remember that you only have three or four hours with your kids when you get home from work, and the last thing you'll want to do in those precious few hours is work out? By 8:00 p.m. when the baby is sleeping you'll probably collapse as you reach for your sneakers. Why is that so hard to remember?
Why don't you do us a favor this time around? Let's remember that your body will eventually mutate back to its original form. Just give it some time. No amount of torture is going to speed up the rate at which your hips migrate inward. In fact, this time around lets invest in a big storage bin. Throw all of your pre-pregnancy clothes in the bin and hide it away in the attic like a time capsule. Label it "Do Not Open Until August 2012." You'll save us a lot of disappointment.
This time there will be no standing in front of the mirror with a pair of size six jeans stuck around your knees. No. There will not be seventeen pairs of pants strewn about the floor. Maybe these? No. Maybe these? No. There will be no grabbing the skin around your belly button and squishing it to say "Feed me. I'm hungry." No. No, no, no.
One day, like a bear waking from hibernation, you'll know it is time. You will wake from your delicate state of not really wake, not really sleeping. You will instinctively wander north to the bin in the attic and rummage through your old clothes. You will pull on your old pants and, alas, they will nearly fit! Then and only then may you revisit the idea of working out. Promise me you'll take my advice. Pinky promise?
Stop thinking you are going to start working out six weeks postpartum. Stop thinking you'll be in a bikini by June. Stop thinking you'll be in your old wardrobe by the time you go back to work. You've done this before, haven't you? Don't you remember how many times the baby wakes up at night? Don't you remember how your house turns into a total shithole? Don't you remember how many visitors you'll have to entertain? Don't you remember answering emails and working when the baby was napping when you should have been napping yourself? Don't you remember how much it hurts - you know - down there? Don't you remember that there is no time to work out? No time at all. Not when your baby wakes up at 12:00 a.m., 3:00 a.m., and 5:30 a.m. Don't you remember that you only have three or four hours with your kids when you get home from work, and the last thing you'll want to do in those precious few hours is work out? By 8:00 p.m. when the baby is sleeping you'll probably collapse as you reach for your sneakers. Why is that so hard to remember?
Why don't you do us a favor this time around? Let's remember that your body will eventually mutate back to its original form. Just give it some time. No amount of torture is going to speed up the rate at which your hips migrate inward. In fact, this time around lets invest in a big storage bin. Throw all of your pre-pregnancy clothes in the bin and hide it away in the attic like a time capsule. Label it "Do Not Open Until August 2012." You'll save us a lot of disappointment.
This time there will be no standing in front of the mirror with a pair of size six jeans stuck around your knees. No. There will not be seventeen pairs of pants strewn about the floor. Maybe these? No. Maybe these? No. There will be no grabbing the skin around your belly button and squishing it to say "Feed me. I'm hungry." No. No, no, no.
One day, like a bear waking from hibernation, you'll know it is time. You will wake from your delicate state of not really wake, not really sleeping. You will instinctively wander north to the bin in the attic and rummage through your old clothes. You will pull on your old pants and, alas, they will nearly fit! Then and only then may you revisit the idea of working out. Promise me you'll take my advice. Pinky promise?
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Chloe - 18 Months
On July 24 Chloe turned 18 months old and it seems like she is growing up so fast. Mommy fell a little behind scheduling her 18 month appointment so I'll have to post her stats separately. She is solid as a rock, though, I'll tell you that much. We are sure that she is going to have a stockier build than most little girls. I'm sure she is going to "hate" her body as she is growing up, but I'm making it my goal in life to teach her that her body is beautiful.
Looking back on my life I realize that I was able to do so much with my strong body. I was the fastest girl in school, I could do a standing back tuck, and I could bench press 150 lbs by my freshman year of high school. I was insanely strong, and I was able to live my life more fully because of it.
Just for fun, Chloe does chin-ups on the side of the dining room table. Chin-ups for crying out loud. She has been able to do a somersault by herself for a couple of months now. Also, she is an amazing jumper. She can actually get an inch or two off the floor. When she first started jumping she would start in a squatting position and she would make you count for her until she felt like jumping. Now she just runs around jumping everywhere. She also dances like her life depends on it. If she ever hears a tune playing on the television or radio or even on a toy she will bust a move. Her dance moves are all different and all so hilarious. She has a helicopter arm swing, a booty bounce, a one arm swing and bounce, and any combination of those things while spinning. Speaking of spinning, she loves to spin all of the time. She is so silly.
The climbing never stopped. If anything she is worse now than ever before. The difference is now we just sort of let her climb instead of fight her constantly. She loves to climb on tables and chairs and she even tries to go up and down the stairs upright without holding on. She climbs into her stroller and high chair, but the worst climbing of all started about a month ago when she finally figured out she can climb out of her crib. I swear you'd think the world was ending if you came to our house for the three or four days we battled the crib climbing. I was so worked up about it that it was all I could talk about. That was the last "safe" spot I had to put her. I could take a shower in the morning without worrying that Chloe was going to be hanging from the ceiling fan when I got out. And now it is the most dangerous place to put her?
With the help of technology that is far more sophisticated than my parents had when I was a baby, we used our digital monitor to spy on her in stealth mode. Whenever she would start to crawl out of the crib we would run in and correct her. After about four days she figured out that climbing out of the crib wasn't going to fly; however, three days ago I woke up to a ker-thump and "waaaaaaaaaahhhhh!" and sure enough she had climbed out of the crib and bumped her little head. Thankfully she only had a goose egg, and when we asked her if she was going to crawl out of her crib that night she shook her head and said "NO!" She is a daredevil, but she is no fool. Regardless, we are thinking of moving her to a bed here shortly.
Chloe has a few favorite things and I'll just list them here below in order of obsession:
1. Papa - Chloe is deeply, madly, insanely in love with my Dad. When she is with her Papa nothing else in the world matters. We are usually happy when we leave because she turns into such a Papa snob that no one else can hold her or feed her or look at her. Griffin feels the same way about my Dad.
2. Griffin - Chloe still loves Griffin second best. She chases him around everywhere. She steals his ball and makes him chase her. Most of all she mauls him. She climbs all over him and rubs her little face into his fur. Also, she loves to bite his ears. She gets in trouble if we catch her, but he just lets her do it. It seems a little backwards that we are worried that our child is going to bite your dog. It should be the other way around, right?
3. Outside - Chloe would be outside all day if we let her. Dada likes to be outside, but this Mama has never been a huge fan of sitting outdoors. Chloe has been loving the summer and playing in the backyard.
4. Computer/iPhone - I know that it is sad that a technological device is fourth on the list. Chloe loves singing and learning her alphabet. Just once I let her play a toddler alphabet game. After that she became completely obsessed with playing online computer games, and whenever she sees a laptop she throws a tempertantrum if you don't let her play. I have a few iPhone apps for her and sometimes she gets that way about the phone, too.
5. Books - Chloe loves to read books to you, read them to herself, or have them read to her. She usually has to do the picking, though. She can be very picky about her books!
6. Sesame Street - I'm going to point the finger at my Mom for getting her hooked on this show, but I have to say that I'm grateful to have Melmo babysit Chloe for free every morning while I get ready. It is much easier to put myself together these days!
Chloe seems to be picking up the English language. For a while she was saying a new word every day. She will repeat almost any word you say, but it seems like lately she has put her focus into listening and understanding rather than speaking. She understands most of what we ask her and we are able to give her choices, which has made life a lot easier. Her favorite words, of course, are "more" and "no," but she does have a whole stash of words like turtle, circle, heart, and tractor up her sleeve.
Chloe sings all of the time. My favorite is that she sings her ABC's except she sings it "B, B, B, B, B, B, B" and sometimes when I'm singing it with her she will fill in a few of the letters. She sounds a lot like me when I go to Catholic mass "We believe B, B, B, one God, B B B, forever, amen." She can point out most of the letters when we ask her, and she is also pretty good at her shapes. She seems less interested in counting, but she can tell you how old she is!
Chloe also loves animal sounds. She knows the sounds for at least twenty animals. Her favorite is the monkey because her Dada taught her how to act like a crazy monkey while she makes the sound. She loves to do the elephant nearly just as much and sticks her little arm out in front of her like a trunk.
My sweet, sweet baby is developing quite the little temper in her age. She has a very short fuse. Actually, I'm not even sure she has a fuse. It is more like a switch. If you take her tooth brush from her before she is good and ready to stop brushing her teeth she will instantly turn into a wet noodle and throw her body to the floor and scream. It is hard not to laugh it is so ridiculous. We have one or two of these a day. Sometimes she will be so pissed that she will swat at me and then she gets a timeout. She just has to sit in the corner for 30 seconds, but I'll be dammed if I'm going to let my kid swat me without some form punishment even if "she is too young to know." Sometimes I will scream back and "cry" with her with the same intensity. My neighbor told me about this method. It is hilarious. She will stop and stare at me like I'm crazy and then I'll tell her in a more reasonable voice why she can't have what she wants. That works about 50% of the time.
My once willing-to-eat-anything-you-put-in-front-of-her-face baby has now become a very picky eater. I blame this on two things: blueberries and raspberries. Once she discovered the sweet goodness of the vine she has never been the same. She has downgraded to peanut butter and jelly, grilled cheese, and chicken nuggets (Yes, it's true; the mother who once made her own baby food sold out for processed chicken who-knows-what.)
(Oh my God if you are still reading this then bless you. I would have fallen asleep eating a PBJ paragraphs ago.)
Looking back on my life I realize that I was able to do so much with my strong body. I was the fastest girl in school, I could do a standing back tuck, and I could bench press 150 lbs by my freshman year of high school. I was insanely strong, and I was able to live my life more fully because of it.
Just for fun, Chloe does chin-ups on the side of the dining room table. Chin-ups for crying out loud. She has been able to do a somersault by herself for a couple of months now. Also, she is an amazing jumper. She can actually get an inch or two off the floor. When she first started jumping she would start in a squatting position and she would make you count for her until she felt like jumping. Now she just runs around jumping everywhere. She also dances like her life depends on it. If she ever hears a tune playing on the television or radio or even on a toy she will bust a move. Her dance moves are all different and all so hilarious. She has a helicopter arm swing, a booty bounce, a one arm swing and bounce, and any combination of those things while spinning. Speaking of spinning, she loves to spin all of the time. She is so silly.
The climbing never stopped. If anything she is worse now than ever before. The difference is now we just sort of let her climb instead of fight her constantly. She loves to climb on tables and chairs and she even tries to go up and down the stairs upright without holding on. She climbs into her stroller and high chair, but the worst climbing of all started about a month ago when she finally figured out she can climb out of her crib. I swear you'd think the world was ending if you came to our house for the three or four days we battled the crib climbing. I was so worked up about it that it was all I could talk about. That was the last "safe" spot I had to put her. I could take a shower in the morning without worrying that Chloe was going to be hanging from the ceiling fan when I got out. And now it is the most dangerous place to put her?
With the help of technology that is far more sophisticated than my parents had when I was a baby, we used our digital monitor to spy on her in stealth mode. Whenever she would start to crawl out of the crib we would run in and correct her. After about four days she figured out that climbing out of the crib wasn't going to fly; however, three days ago I woke up to a ker-thump and "waaaaaaaaaahhhhh!" and sure enough she had climbed out of the crib and bumped her little head. Thankfully she only had a goose egg, and when we asked her if she was going to crawl out of her crib that night she shook her head and said "NO!" She is a daredevil, but she is no fool. Regardless, we are thinking of moving her to a bed here shortly.
Chloe has a few favorite things and I'll just list them here below in order of obsession:
1. Papa - Chloe is deeply, madly, insanely in love with my Dad. When she is with her Papa nothing else in the world matters. We are usually happy when we leave because she turns into such a Papa snob that no one else can hold her or feed her or look at her. Griffin feels the same way about my Dad.
2. Griffin - Chloe still loves Griffin second best. She chases him around everywhere. She steals his ball and makes him chase her. Most of all she mauls him. She climbs all over him and rubs her little face into his fur. Also, she loves to bite his ears. She gets in trouble if we catch her, but he just lets her do it. It seems a little backwards that we are worried that our child is going to bite your dog. It should be the other way around, right?
3. Outside - Chloe would be outside all day if we let her. Dada likes to be outside, but this Mama has never been a huge fan of sitting outdoors. Chloe has been loving the summer and playing in the backyard.
4. Computer/iPhone - I know that it is sad that a technological device is fourth on the list. Chloe loves singing and learning her alphabet. Just once I let her play a toddler alphabet game. After that she became completely obsessed with playing online computer games, and whenever she sees a laptop she throws a tempertantrum if you don't let her play. I have a few iPhone apps for her and sometimes she gets that way about the phone, too.
5. Books - Chloe loves to read books to you, read them to herself, or have them read to her. She usually has to do the picking, though. She can be very picky about her books!
6. Sesame Street - I'm going to point the finger at my Mom for getting her hooked on this show, but I have to say that I'm grateful to have Melmo babysit Chloe for free every morning while I get ready. It is much easier to put myself together these days!
Chloe seems to be picking up the English language. For a while she was saying a new word every day. She will repeat almost any word you say, but it seems like lately she has put her focus into listening and understanding rather than speaking. She understands most of what we ask her and we are able to give her choices, which has made life a lot easier. Her favorite words, of course, are "more" and "no," but she does have a whole stash of words like turtle, circle, heart, and tractor up her sleeve.
Chloe sings all of the time. My favorite is that she sings her ABC's except she sings it "B, B, B, B, B, B, B" and sometimes when I'm singing it with her she will fill in a few of the letters. She sounds a lot like me when I go to Catholic mass "We believe B, B, B, one God, B B B, forever, amen." She can point out most of the letters when we ask her, and she is also pretty good at her shapes. She seems less interested in counting, but she can tell you how old she is!
Chloe also loves animal sounds. She knows the sounds for at least twenty animals. Her favorite is the monkey because her Dada taught her how to act like a crazy monkey while she makes the sound. She loves to do the elephant nearly just as much and sticks her little arm out in front of her like a trunk.
My sweet, sweet baby is developing quite the little temper in her age. She has a very short fuse. Actually, I'm not even sure she has a fuse. It is more like a switch. If you take her tooth brush from her before she is good and ready to stop brushing her teeth she will instantly turn into a wet noodle and throw her body to the floor and scream. It is hard not to laugh it is so ridiculous. We have one or two of these a day. Sometimes she will be so pissed that she will swat at me and then she gets a timeout. She just has to sit in the corner for 30 seconds, but I'll be dammed if I'm going to let my kid swat me without some form punishment even if "she is too young to know." Sometimes I will scream back and "cry" with her with the same intensity. My neighbor told me about this method. It is hilarious. She will stop and stare at me like I'm crazy and then I'll tell her in a more reasonable voice why she can't have what she wants. That works about 50% of the time.
My once willing-to-eat-anything-you-put-in-front-of-her-face baby has now become a very picky eater. I blame this on two things: blueberries and raspberries. Once she discovered the sweet goodness of the vine she has never been the same. She has downgraded to peanut butter and jelly, grilled cheese, and chicken nuggets (Yes, it's true; the mother who once made her own baby food sold out for processed chicken who-knows-what.)
(Oh my God if you are still reading this then bless you. I would have fallen asleep eating a PBJ paragraphs ago.)
Chloe, at 18 months I love you more than ever. I love to sit and cuddle with you and just stare at you. I can hardly believe we created something so beautiful. I feel so blessed to be your Mama, and you melt my heart on a daily basis. Please love me forever, but know that I'll always love you more. That's just how it works. Love, Mama.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Staycation
On the first day of our staycation we decided to head to the local zoo. We have lived here for over five years, but have never visited the zoo. It always looks so white trashy from the outside. I have to say that we were pleasantly surprised when we got into the park. The whole zoo is built into a hillside, and there were all kinds of animals! (If you read all the way to the end of this post you'll be generously rewarded.)
Chloe loves monkeys, and luckily they had at least four different kinds. Here is Chloe looking at the first group of monkeys. We just got to the zoo so she isn't really sure what is going on yet.
All done? Good! Here is your special treat. No trip to the zoo is complete without witnessing nature at its finest! We watched the bears bathe one another (foreplay, as it turns out), and then seconds later... THIS!
The rest of our staycation was pretty chill. We swam in the neighbor's blow up pool, made breakfast, grilled out, picked peas at the farm, and went to Famers' Market. Actually, Paul and I even went out to eat twice for a peaceful, relaxing lunch. I was hungry for lunch one day and wanted to stop at Panera Bread. Chloe had just fallen asleep in the car and we wanted to keep her asleep so we thought we'd eat in the car. Just then we noticed some outdoor seating right next to the parking lot. We pulled the car up right next to a patio table, rolled the windows down, and sat and ate outside right next to Chloe. It was AMAZING!!! We did the same thing the next day. Don't judge us, we were sitting right next to her and could see her the entire time. You don't know what it's like to bring this one to a restaurant!!!!
Vacation
Paul, Chloe, Griffin, and I took a whole week of vacation during the week of Independence Day. This is one of our favorite holidays and it always seems like the best time to take some time to relax. We headed up to Hubbard Lake on Thursday night. We thought starting the four hour trip around 7:00 p.m. would mean that Chloe would be sleeping in the car for at least 3/4 of the trip. This, however, was not the case. We spent about 2 hours listening to Elmo's World blaring on the DVD player, 1/2 an hour singing every single song we could think of from our childhood, 1/2 an hour listening to Chloe scream, and were finally blessed with sweet peace when she fell asleep for the last 1/2 hour. Chloe wasted no time loving up to my Dad and pretty much ditching her parents. Here she is enjoying one of many meals on Papa's lap.
This picture pretty much just defines Chloe. Hot mess. Hey I guess if anyone can pull off the bikini top, diaper, pink water shoe look it is Chloe.
Here we are eating some regular yogurt instead of Greek. It happens to be a little runnier and it turns out Chloe is just not as skilled at eating runny yogurt. She had quite an audience.
Here is a picture of Andrew and Chloe enjoying their afternoon snacks on these special chairs Grammy bought for them. I can't help but notice how sweet and clean looking Chloe looks here. What a rare moment.
This is more like it. I had this terrible shopping experience at the "Alpena Mall," which consists primarily of a JCPenney. There is a new mall down the road I guess. It is called Wal-Mart. I was looking for "the perfect 4th of July outfit" for Chloe. Without getting all upset about the shopping trip I will just say that I never found it. My Mom did find this lovely bikini at the new mall down the road. Paul said Chloe could wear it as long as she doesn't think that an American flag is an acceptable article of clothing when she is a teenager.
Here is our second annual family photo at the lake. You can't really see Chloe's face, but it is the only one where Paul is looking. I guess my brother needed to wave a little squeaky toy at Paul for the pictures.
This picture pretty much just defines Chloe. Hot mess. Hey I guess if anyone can pull off the bikini top, diaper, pink water shoe look it is Chloe.
Here we are eating some regular yogurt instead of Greek. It happens to be a little runnier and it turns out Chloe is just not as skilled at eating runny yogurt. She had quite an audience.
Here is a picture of Andrew and Chloe enjoying their afternoon snacks on these special chairs Grammy bought for them. I can't help but notice how sweet and clean looking Chloe looks here. What a rare moment.
This is more like it. I had this terrible shopping experience at the "Alpena Mall," which consists primarily of a JCPenney. There is a new mall down the road I guess. It is called Wal-Mart. I was looking for "the perfect 4th of July outfit" for Chloe. Without getting all upset about the shopping trip I will just say that I never found it. My Mom did find this lovely bikini at the new mall down the road. Paul said Chloe could wear it as long as she doesn't think that an American flag is an acceptable article of clothing when she is a teenager.
Here is our second annual family photo at the lake. You can't really see Chloe's face, but it is the only one where Paul is looking. I guess my brother needed to wave a little squeaky toy at Paul for the pictures.
We had to cut our vacation a little short, because Chloe starts acting up after too much Papa time. She refused to eat in her high chair, screamed bloody murder before bed, swatted at her Mama on several occasions, and was just being a little brat. We left on Tuesday. I'm always sad to go. Hubbard Lake is so peaceful and I have so many great memories there. I love having my family and friends around and relaxing at the lake. We had a great time, but we were happy to have the rest of the week at home as a family.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Working Mama
I guess I should clarify a little about the term "mean mommy." The term has gotten me in trouble before. Luckily, I have only encountered the mean mommy a few times. She wasn't a friend or family member, so if you are reading this I'm not talking about you. In my experience you meet this fine specimen at a baby shower or bachelorette party or some other gathering involving a large group of women you don't really know.
I should say that I realize that the examples I cited of things a mean mommy might say are not exactly offensive in casual conversation. But if, for example, I have just said "I have been struggling lately being a working mother. My job is so demanding, and then I come home to a pile of laundry and a messy house. The last thing I want to do is ignore my baby and clean when I get so few hours with her. I feel like I'm missing out on everything lately, and it feels terrible to pay another woman to raise my child," there are only a few ways to respond. One is to just nod your head with an understanding "mmmhmm." Another is to say, "I have been feeling that way, too. Have you tried..." Or, "I don't know what you are going through since I stay home with my kids, but if it makes you feel any better, it is hard for me, too." Okay, what you don't say is "Oh, well I say home with my kids and I just loooove it. And one day a week I drop them off with my mother so that I can have some me time." It's just ill timed. I mean, you can say that if you want to be a huge bitch and you want me to write about you on my blog, but this mothering business is hard, and we need to stick together.
I have never written on here about how it feels to be a working mother, and I'm not sure if I will ever be able to put it into words. It is so complex, and it is a constant struggle to find the balance between work and life. It doesn't matter how much our family chips away at the mold of the traditional family by having a working mother who handles the bills and the investments, because at the end of the day I'm still the mommy and the wife. I still care for the home and for the child. Every minute that I spend working, cleaning the house, getting my hair did, paying bills... posting on my blog, is a minute I'm not spending with Chloe. And the guilt associated with that fact is monumental.
Someday when Chloe is a grown woman, my hope is that she appreciates my decision to continue to support our family financially. At the same time, I hope she understands how hard it was for me to drop her off at daycare every morning, and how many times I have cried in the car on my way to work. I hope she knows that my heart still has a scar from that time she chose Melissa over me, and how many hours I have spent in prayer seeking comfort in my decision. I hope the social skills Chloe gains from interacting with her daycare "siblings" overshadow her bouts with Roseola, pink eye, and Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease. I hope that Chloe remembers squealing and running to the door to greet her Grammy every Thursday. I hope she has fond memories of playing with her Grammy, like I have with mine.
I guess what I hope most for Chloe is that if she decides to become a mother someday she knows that it is just as okay to stay home with her kids as it is to continue to pursue her professional goals. Maybe it is possible to somehow do both. I say this now not being 100% convinced that continuing to work is even a fraction as healthy as staying home. I just hope that it is.
And if she decides to stay home with her kids I hope she reads my old blog posts and realizes that whether you are a working mother or a stay at home mother, both options are difficult, both options are rewarding. What is important is that you commit yourself fully in the time you are given to spend with your child. In fact, since the day I have become a mother I have become so pro-Chloe that the concept of "me" is pretty much a chapter in history. Most days Old Cassie wouldn't recognize Mom Cassie in brown flats and a black purse. And OMG, has it been, like, three months since she last got highlights?
For now I take comfort in my decision. Between my Mom and Melissa, God has placed into my hands the best alternatives to my staying home. I'm trusting what seems like the perfect plan - one whose hardships keep me constantly seeking the Lord.
I should say that I realize that the examples I cited of things a mean mommy might say are not exactly offensive in casual conversation. But if, for example, I have just said "I have been struggling lately being a working mother. My job is so demanding, and then I come home to a pile of laundry and a messy house. The last thing I want to do is ignore my baby and clean when I get so few hours with her. I feel like I'm missing out on everything lately, and it feels terrible to pay another woman to raise my child," there are only a few ways to respond. One is to just nod your head with an understanding "mmmhmm." Another is to say, "I have been feeling that way, too. Have you tried..." Or, "I don't know what you are going through since I stay home with my kids, but if it makes you feel any better, it is hard for me, too." Okay, what you don't say is "Oh, well I say home with my kids and I just loooove it. And one day a week I drop them off with my mother so that I can have some me time." It's just ill timed. I mean, you can say that if you want to be a huge bitch and you want me to write about you on my blog, but this mothering business is hard, and we need to stick together.
I have never written on here about how it feels to be a working mother, and I'm not sure if I will ever be able to put it into words. It is so complex, and it is a constant struggle to find the balance between work and life. It doesn't matter how much our family chips away at the mold of the traditional family by having a working mother who handles the bills and the investments, because at the end of the day I'm still the mommy and the wife. I still care for the home and for the child. Every minute that I spend working, cleaning the house, getting my hair did, paying bills... posting on my blog, is a minute I'm not spending with Chloe. And the guilt associated with that fact is monumental.
Someday when Chloe is a grown woman, my hope is that she appreciates my decision to continue to support our family financially. At the same time, I hope she understands how hard it was for me to drop her off at daycare every morning, and how many times I have cried in the car on my way to work. I hope she knows that my heart still has a scar from that time she chose Melissa over me, and how many hours I have spent in prayer seeking comfort in my decision. I hope the social skills Chloe gains from interacting with her daycare "siblings" overshadow her bouts with Roseola, pink eye, and Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease. I hope that Chloe remembers squealing and running to the door to greet her Grammy every Thursday. I hope she has fond memories of playing with her Grammy, like I have with mine.
I guess what I hope most for Chloe is that if she decides to become a mother someday she knows that it is just as okay to stay home with her kids as it is to continue to pursue her professional goals. Maybe it is possible to somehow do both. I say this now not being 100% convinced that continuing to work is even a fraction as healthy as staying home. I just hope that it is.
And if she decides to stay home with her kids I hope she reads my old blog posts and realizes that whether you are a working mother or a stay at home mother, both options are difficult, both options are rewarding. What is important is that you commit yourself fully in the time you are given to spend with your child. In fact, since the day I have become a mother I have become so pro-Chloe that the concept of "me" is pretty much a chapter in history. Most days Old Cassie wouldn't recognize Mom Cassie in brown flats and a black purse. And OMG, has it been, like, three months since she last got highlights?
For now I take comfort in my decision. Between my Mom and Melissa, God has placed into my hands the best alternatives to my staying home. I'm trusting what seems like the perfect plan - one whose hardships keep me constantly seeking the Lord.
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