Some Things Never Change -- by Cara

When I read Jamie’s blog a couple days ago, I was taken back to the days when my son would fight going to sleep any chance he’d get. Back in the days of toddlerhood, nothing, and I mean practically nothing would cajole this boy to sleep. To make matters worse, he was a vomiter, so we couldn’t just let him cry for very long because my husband and I would be cleaning up from his display of irritation.

He also didn’t sleep through the night until he was almost 3. He’d wake up for water or just want to know someone was around, and I took over the “night shift.” Almost 3 years of non-consecutive sleep. To this day, I don’t know how I did it.

Actually I do know how I managed to catch up on my sleep. We signed him up for full-day Daycare. He had energy to burn at the Daycare and I would spend my day taking naps, which I continue to do now, years later.

I don’t know what kind of magic sleeping dust this Daycare sprinkled over my son, but they got him to take naps. During the week. And only during the week. On the weekends when we knew our son was tired, we would lay down in his room and try to get him to sleep, thinking if he saw us going to sleep, he would follow suit. Didn’t happen. We even invested in a thick exercise mat that either my husband or I would lie down on with him, trying to get him to sleep. That didn’t work either. He would end up climbing all over us, finding things to do. It could take up to and sometimes more than 2 hours to try to get this child to sleep!

I read every book available on how to get your child to sleep, tried every technique. I even called one author to see if I could make an appointment with her and pay $250 to have her help me get my son to sleep! Alas, she was booked 8 months ahead. I had to find a way on my own.

We eventually resorted to taking him on errands on the weekend and while he slept in the car, either my husband or I would sit in the car with him and just close our eyes.

My son is now 6. He rarely falls asleep before 10 pm and if he does, it is usually a clue that an illness is brewing. And he wakes up around 6 am. He is a true 8 hour sleeper, which means that I continue to be chronically sleep deprived because I always wait until he is asleep before I go to sleep. And I usually have at least a half hour of things that need to be done before I settle into the covers.

So, although he is growing and maturing every day, he remains the 8 hour sleeper. And I remain the chronic napper. I am so jealous of Moms who say, “Oh, it’s 7 pm...we have to get home so that Kevin can get his bath and be in bed by 8.” I laugh to myself, thinking, you don’t realize how wonderful it is that your child goes to sleep so early! But in my home, it just will never be.

What age do kids typically go away to sleep-away camp??

Happy Christmakkah! by Jamie

As a Jew, I’ve always embraced the traditions of Judaism, but not necessarily its religious aspects. For instance, I don’t go to temple, was never Bat Mizvahed, and must admit that most of my Yom Kippur fasts have been solely weight loss-driven. However, I do know (and often use) a few dozen Yiddish words, wish just as many friends a “sweet” New Year around Rosh Hashanah as I do on January 1st, and truly “kvelled” over giving my daughter a Hebrew name at a baby-naming ceremony. I may not “practice” my religion all the time, but I certainly appreciate it—the holidays, stories, and most of all, the familial bonds (and, well, the food, too!). And as the mom of a toddler, I really look forward to starting—and continuing—traditions with my daughter for all of the Jewish holidays.

That said, hooray for Hanukkah! This is the first year that Jayda, at 2-1/2, can really join in—and begin to understand—our holiday celebrations. I have a special Crayola crayon-shaped menorah to light with her, eight presents to give to her on each of the eight nights, and a family Hanukkah dinner planned, with home-made latkes headlining the meal. I’m looking forward to it all. But I’m not looking forward to competing with Christmas.

I’m no Scrooge, and I certainly understand the appeal of Christmas; I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t admit to that. My mother’s mother was Irish-Protestant, until she gave up her religion for my Jewish grandfather. However, she never stopped celebrating Christmas, and my own mother carried that tradition into our home. When I was growing up, we celebrated Hanukkah, but we also had a Christmas tree, left cookies for Santa on a table near the chimney, and woke up on Christmas morning to a pile of gifts. It made sense because it was a part of my mother’s upbringing, but for me, as a single Jewish mother, it doesn’t make sense anymore. There’s no reason for me to have a Christmas tree in my home, or even teach my child to believe in Santa Claus. But I fear it’s going to take a heck of a lot of work to get Jayda to understand that Hanukkah is “just as much fun” as Christmas.

A few weeks ago, Jayda pointed to a picture of Santa Claus and asked me, “Who’s that?” Moments later, she gestured to a picture of a Christmas tree and said, “What a pretty tree!” I explained to her as best I could who Santa Claus is, and why that tree was covered with decorations, and she soon lost interest. But I know that was just the beginning.

Let’s face it: We live in a Christmas-focused world. Every street in our neighborhood is filled with Christmas lights, huge fusses are made over Christmas tree lighting ceremonies, and our stores are swarming with Christmas-themed decorations, gifts, toys, and candy. True, there are Hanukkah books that I can read to Jayda, and occasionally I’m able to find a TV special airing which focuses on our holiday. This past week, I was especially thrilled to discover that at Jayda’s daycare, they had a Hanukkah unit: All week long, Jayda’s class read stories about the holiday, made crafts, and even enjoyed Hanukkah treats. But it still doesn’t compare to the Christmas craziness that will be saturating the same daycare—and everywhere else—in upcoming weeks.

Because my childhood included Christmas celebrations and I “had the best of both worlds,” I never really noticed the lack of Hanukkah hoopla around us, but I’m pretty certain my own child will. Perhaps I’m worrying needlessly, but I hate to think Jayda will feel like she’s missing out on something just because we’re Jewish. I know the best I can do is embrace our Jewish traditions, as I do, and pass my enthusiasm for them along to Jayda. Hopefully then she’ll appreciate who we are—and what our holiday means. This Hanukkah, I know Jayda will be doing plenty of celebrating, enjoying her family, and receiving lots of great gifts, and that’s a tradition no one should find reason to complain about.

Learning from a Toddler--and Losing Inhibitions -- by Jamie

While I’ve always been a rather social person—and a very talkative one at that—I’ve never been overly-confrontational. Or even a very outspoken person when I’m in public, or interacting with strangers. And I certainly possess my share of inhibitions. But having a child has brought countless changes to my life, including giving me the guts to say or do many things I wouldn’t have done before I had Jayda.

I adore the fact that my 2-1/2-year-old daughter is completely uninhibited. She loves to take off her clothes in the house and, as she calls it, “be a naked baby.” She struts around with her belly sticking out, and could care less about who’s watching her. As a woman who’s suffered through years of disordered eating in the past, I find it lovely to see someone who has absolutely no body image issues. Jayda does happen to be a beautiful child, but it’s liberating to know that fat or thin, pretty or not, Jayda gives no thought to what she looks like, and certainly doesn’t stress over what she eats. She’s comfortable in her own skin. We should all be so lucky.

Best of all, Jayda loves to belt out the words to songs she knows (even when those words are all garbled and wrong)—whether we’re alone or in public. Personally, even with a couple of martinis in my bloodstream, I’ve never had the guts to sing karaoke, and I marvel at my daughter’s chutzpa. She dances with abandon, says whatever is on her mind, and doesn’t think twice about questioning anything and everything (and anyone and everyone!). True, she’s a toddler and knows no better. But I find her actions quite enviable.

Fortunately, being a mom to Jayda has changed my personality, too. Because I discovered it’s important to talk to your children to foster their speech development, even when Jayda was only an infant, I chatted constantly with her in public. When Jayda was not yet talking, I uttered endless monologues to her, and now, I engage her in complex conversations out loud—sometimes quite loudly—in public places like the supermarket, the doctor’s waiting room, and even the library. And when Jayda asks me to join her in singing a song, I oblige. I’ve also been known to spin around in circles with her—or do a jig with her in the middle of a crowd (and I’m someone who has always had two left feet). Being with a child can definitely bring out the child in you—as well as a child’s lack of inhibitions.

Before I became a mom, there were many times when I felt intimidated by authority figures and didn’t speak up about things that bothered me…or times when I was a bit shy about asking for something I needed. That’s not true anymore—especially when it comes to Jayda. When I need an emergency appointment at the pediatrician’s office, attention given to a problem Jayda’s having at daycare, or am bothered by a myriad of other things whose resolutions are important to my child’s well-being, I’ve developed a very big mouth. I’ll pursue important people, confront troublemakers, and even insist on changes being made where they’ve never been made before, if doing so will improve my daughter’s life. And I’ll do so with absolutely no hesitation. Just as a momma bear is protective of her little cub, so am I: I’ll growl at anyone who puts my child in harm’s way. It’s a gift Jayda’s given me…and I’m doing my best to use it as much as I can.

Patience is a Vrtue...When Parenting or Dating -- by Jamie

Before I became a single mother by choice, I was a highly-experienced serial dater with very specific intentions. No matter how I’d first “encountered” my potential suitor—be it in-person, or online—I always pushed for our first date to occur ASAP. Even if I’d clearly felt a connection with a guy after speaking to him in line at Starbucks, or as a result of the emails he’d sent me on JDate, I kept to my agenda: we needed to have a phone conversation quickly after our initial contact, and we had to meet in person as soon as our calendars were clear. My reasoning came from experience: I’d often gotten excited about a guy just from his flirtatious emails, or from a brief but memorable encounter that I’d replayed over and over in my mind, only to discover that we had no chemistry when we finally went out on a date. So, rather than build up my anticipation for a date that could, ultimately, disappoint me, I eagerly sought a face-to-face meeting as quickly as possible, to really gauge a guy’s potential.

This technique worked well for me when I was single, and on a quest to find Mr. Right. I had the flexibility to be spontaneous and have a date on the fly, as well as plenty of spare time for a very social social life. With nothing better to concentrate on (aside from work and working out!), I focused on fast-tracking my dating. After a good date, I’d often find myself obsessively waiting for the man to call or email me. It was hopeless for me to divert my attention, or to just be patient, while my all-consuming desire to be in a relationship took over. Even when I was getting attention from a guy, and he seemed interested in going out on more dates, it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t stay “in the moment,” and just enjoy dating for what it was…I kept wondering where things were leading, and if we’d have a future together. Before I decided to have a baby on my own, I was always hoping to get to the point where my life was entrenched with Mr. Right’s, and, ultimately, I never got there.

As a mom, it’s easy to get impatient with my daughter. Toddlers find wonder in the smallest things, and I often find Jayda dawdling to pick up a rock while we’re walking to the car, or stopping and staring at the people in a crowd we’re trying to push our way through. In addition, Jayda is now at the age where she constantly insists, “I do it myself!” which can sometimes mean that a simple task will take three times as long to achieve. When we’re in a rush, it’s hard for me to relax and just let Jayda be Jayda, and take her time. But as we both get older, I’m becoming more successful at it. I’m learning to be patient. I’m learning to be ok with letting things evolve on their own (or on Jayda’s own!). It’s a good lesson for dating, too.

A few weeks ago, Jayda and I went to a fair in a neighboring town. It was a beautiful day, and Jayda enjoyed her pay-one-price wristband by hopping on ride after ride after ride. At one point, while I watched Jayda circle around endlessly on a motorized car next to a slightly-older girl, the man beside me began chatting with me about our children. By the time the ride had ended, I’d discovered that he was a single father, and was raising his daughter on his own. We wound up walking around the fair together, with our girls, for quite some time, and it was clear to both of us that we’d made a connection. When it was time for us to leave, we exchanged business cards, and promised to talk again. And we have…through a flurry of emails—lengthy ones, written when our kids are asleep, or in daycare. Slowly, but surely, we’re getting to know each other. We’ve discussed meeting for lunch—but we both can’t seem to find the time to do so in the near-future. And so, we continue to write, and continue to “hope” to talk on the phone soon (there never seems to be time for that, either), and nothing more. And you know what? It’s enough. Because, as a single mom, my life is quite full, and while I’d love some male companionship, I don’t “need” to find Mr. Right right now. I’m not even in a hurry to find out if this man has the potential to be my Mr. Right. He’s kind. He’s funny. And I anticipate his emails…but I don’t obsess over them. I have some patience now. And it makes being a mom—and a dater—much easier.

I Survived Projectile Vomiting

(originally appeared on WorkIt Mom Entrepreneur Mom blog)

Had to republish this here because it was a monumental, rite-of-passage motherhood experience for me!


I Survived Projectile Vomiting

Not my projectile vomiting, but baby's.

I think I've just entered a new level of work-at-home motherhood. If you told me a few years back that my workday would be interrupted by a baby throwing up all day long, I would have thought you were crazy. Little did I know.

Yesterday was a day like any other weekday - babysitter arrived on time, I settled in to work. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Baby had just thrown up her breakfast.

Quick gear shift from work mode into mommy mode.

Was it something I fed her? Were those grapes going bad? Did I give her too many grapes last night? I don't know why I focused in on the grapes as the culprit, but that was my first thought. We wiped her off, changed her shirt, I comforted her for a while, then went back to the other room to work.

Knock knock. She threw up again. All over. This time, a bath was in order. We ran a bath and put her in. I made sure the babysitter was okay watching her as baby played contentedly in the tub, then went back to work.

Right after she was clean, dry and dressed, baby threw up again. By then I was in the middle of attending an online panel that I was covering for an online publication. So much for work. Baby was in need. Gear shift. Getting priorities straight.

We changed her clothes again, and I called the pediatrician. Yes, there is a stomach bug going around. Vomiting for a day then diarrhea for a day. Oh boy. My 17-month old daughter must have caught a stomach bug at the fitness club play center a few days ago.

I closed my laptop and spent the rest of the afternoon sitting with her, catching the vomit in towels, holding her, watching Elmo with her (thank God for Elmo, the new toddler pacifier), and changing her clothes and even bathing her a second time.

She couldn't keep anything down - not Pedialyte, not water, not any part of the BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast). In face, her biggest throw up was after a little applesauce.

I was able to get her to nap for about an hour in the late afternoon and squeezed in a few work tasks in between worrying that baby was going to vomit in her sleep and choke to death.

Later that evening, she was asking for "Feff," her word for "Food." I mixed some plain white rice with a little chicken broth (per the nurse's instructions), and she ate it and kept it down. The entire household sighed in relief. Then she drank half a bottle of water and kept it down.

Once she was asleep for the night, I squeezed in one more task for work then called it a day.

That was my workday the other day. How was yours?

I Need a Post Vacation Vacation

The vacation verdict is in.

Travel with a four year is not a vacation in the true sense of the word.

We returned this week from a 10 day stay upstate. While it was good to get away, I can't say that I've come home rejuvenated.

Seth completely rejected the notion of trying the kiddie camp, so downtime for Marc (my husband) and I did not exist as I had hoped.

It was nice to spend time as a family without the distractions of home and my typical To Do list, but I'm sure you can guess who dictated, for the most past, our choice of activity at Mohonk Mountain House, the resort where we stayed.

We went boating, attempted fishing (though I'm not keen on the whole worm thing....or the idea of spearing a living creature), explored the grounds, took a stab at hitting golf balls....etc. But, most of our time, on a daily basis, was spent either at the indoor pool or man made beach lake area.

I did manage to squeeze in a massage, which I adored, and had fleeting pockets of time to read and take an art class. What I really wanted most was the opportunity to do some hiking and sitting in one of the many thatched huts surrounding the spectacular lake and mountains. It is there that in the past I've been alone with my thoughts and could clear my mind....something I don't do well at home.

I guess this is the way vacations sometimes go when your child (especially a busy boy) is no longer an infant you can contain in a stroller.

To his credit, Seth showed a huge sense of autonomy, easily navigating the resort and playing on his own at times. That was great to see.

We are considering a winter vacation, when Seth is on break from Pre-K, and I imagine we'll be looking at places like Disney, etc. There, I will not have the expectation of chilling, and I guess that's the key. To let go of vacations as we've known them....go with the flow....make the most of family time.....and know that our kids grow up fast, so relish even the less than relaxing times.

I would, however, welcome another moms retreat with gal pals, or a weekend to myself.

How have your vacations gone since you've become a mom?

She Walks!

Okay, I'm getting all excited because baby took a few steps while holding onto her little pushcart. But I counted nine consecutive steps on her own, unassisted by us, across the living room floor.

I'm excited about her walking. So many women say it is a mixed blessing when their children start to walk. They also say that about crawling, but I found that once baby crawled, she became more interactive and fun.

Sure she got into things. Okay, she is still getting into things like my cooking magazines (ripping the covers off them) and the carbon monoxide detector (removing it from the wall). But all in all, I'm enjoying her mobility.

Now we'll have to do the babyproofing a little higher up than before. Gone are the days of leaving things on a chair because they are out of her reach. I know I'll be chasing her around even more than before. But I look forward to her toddling.

A friend of mine keeps lamenting each stage of her baby's development and growth. Oh, she is no longer a baby. Oh, I can't believe she won't be a toddler for long. I'm not feeling a sadness or missing the previous stages.

Is it because I'm a constant overachiever myself and always striving for more more more that I am content with my kid's development. I'm just not missing the earlier stages as much. I'm trying to cherish each one as it comes and welcome the next one.

Admission from the Potty Challenged

We took Seth to the pediatrician this week. He has a nasty cough. And, while we were very concerned about it, the pediatrician seemed more intrigued about the fact that at age four he is in pullups.

I admit it. We are a potty training challenged family.

We have tried. Last summer we had it partially nailed...so I thought....the #1 bodily function, as they say. My son was pretty consistently alerting us when he had to pee. #2 has never worked. Once we got lucky, and he pooped in the potty, and we celebrated....thinking he was now on the path to bathroom success. Well, that lasted a day, and he was back to having constant accidents. Even his new cool Spiderman briefs couldn't motivate him to speak up.

Once he started nursery school, it seemed that he digressed completely, since it
changed his daily routine. And, he now rarely, if ever, says he needs to go potty....whether for #1 or 2. On top of it, he denies when he does it in his pullup and doesn't even mind walking around in it.....until we have to use 1/2 a tube of Balmex to treat his irritated skin.

What's a mom to do?

So....we are now consulting a parenting pro to see what light she can shed.

Bribery hasn't even worked......not even a supersize rescue helicopter that he couldn't wait to get his hands on.

I have joked that he won't walk down the aisle in pullups when he gets married one day. But, since we have a long way to go until the wedding, we have to somehow get with the potty training program sooner than later.