Mama Speaks

Tonight as I read Ayla The Christmas Baby for the umpteenth time, she surprised me when I turned to the page with camels on it.  She said, clear as day, "Camel!"  I immediately guessed that Brandon taught her "camel" during his many nightly reading sessions with her. I like putting Ayla down to bed, but I won't deny the fact that her insatiable hunger for just "one more" book often wears me out.  I love when Brandon puts her to bed.  I think it is great papa-Ayes bonding time, and he is the best EVER storyteller.  He has a voice for every character and an accent for every cultured story he reads with her. Some people complain about their hubbies and their lack of participation in parenting.  I've heard and read tales of dads who just don't "get it" and would rather parent from the sidelines.  I don't get that.  Stereotypes often peg dads as the breadwinner and not much else. We are both the breadwinners in this house.  The

I'm THAT mom. That's right, I said it. I'm the mom who agonized over breastfeeding, trying everything in her power to make it work.  I'm the mom who cried when she fed her precious newborn the last of her mother's milk. But I'm also the mom that fed her sweet baby formula when there was no choice left. I'm the mom who posts every article and video on the importance of rear-facing and extended rear-facing babies in car seats.  I'm the mom who agonizes over the number of moms who choose not to follow these recommendations, even when they have read the cold hard facts.  That it is 500% safer for all babies in a collision.  It actually makes me nauseous because I know the devastation that can be caused by a collision.  It stole my grandparents away from me, away from my mom and her siblings at such a young age. But I'm also the mom that didn't know better until a friend (not a pediatrician, shockingly, who still gives wrong recommendations

"Each of us must come to care about everyone else's children. We must recognize that the welfare of our children is intimately linked to the welfare of all other people's children. After all, when one of our children needs life-saving surgery, someone else's child will perform it. If one of our children is harmed by violence, someone else's child will be responsible for the violent act. The good life for our own children can be secured only if a good life is also secured for all other people's children." -Lilian Katz This is why. 

My stress levels have been SO HIGH lately, and not for any one specific reason.  I have been having terrible migraines with shoulder and neck pain on top of horrendous tailbone pain (cracked tailbone during childbirth almost 2 years ago) to boot. I do not often talk about my job on this blog, as I know that many teachers have faced serious consequences for airing their negative views or opinions in a public forum.  However, I will say that there are a number of things going on in my state (merit pay + eliminating tenure, pay freeze for my entire career, standardized tests) that have caused many of my wonderful friends a great deal of turmoil, stress, and anxiety.  There are, of course, the perks of the job that are priceless, for instance receiving a note from a parent letting you know that they will never forget the difference you made for their child. My sweet daughter has been very rambunctious and has been learning a lot about boundaries and limitations.  It is exciting and fa

It has just been one of those days. You know, one of those days where you feel... cranky, anxious, fat, lethargic, and just overall "blah." Yeah, one of those days...

I am not Catholic, so when I observe Lent it is simply because I love the idea of changing habits, giving things up, and improving myself however I can. I couldn't figure out what to give up this year, so I decided this evening that I will take some things on instead.  I am going to just map things out a little at a time, maybe week by week, and I am going to set off to accomplish each task on the list.   Michele Connolly's blog about doing mini-missions to get things accomplished and organized has really inspired me! This week's goals: 1. Clean off and clean out my bedside table (its driving me nuts). 2. Clean out the fridge before grocery shopping (I do this pretty regularly...after our company/big barbeque it def needs done again). 3. Do some kind of exercise as many days of the week as I can (major struggle with Ayla girl under my toesies!) 4. Get stamps for Save-the-Dates and get the rest of them ready to send (almost done addressing all of them...) 5. Sort t

The Sun, Part I was supposed to be about how my whole world revolves around Ayla.  Then, I got sidetracked and typed out (somewhat) her birth story.   So, back to the point. I've come to realize that my whole life revolves around Ayla.  For instance, if I want to go to the store or get money from the bank or do anything involving anything, I have to consider several things.  Is Ayla ready?  Am I ready with the things Ayla might need (aka snacks and other distractions & diapers)?  How much longer will it take me to do this and do I really need to do this after all?  I mean, who needs groceries?  And when she was little, it was even more involved.  The car seat that was her chariot  was so heavy to carry such a small baby in to go everywhere.  To the car.  Inside the store.  Back to the car.  Phew!  Plus, the water for the formula and the formula and the other many things we thought we might need.  Then, we'd be in the store and she'd totally not be digging being the

Last night, my future sis-in-law/babysitter/friend, Danielle, called me.  We played phone tag, heck I even pocket called her!  When I finally answered her, after first rejecting her call on my cracked phone whilst trying to answer, she said she had something to tell me.  Of course, I always expect people to tell me they are pregnant, which in this scenario would not be possible.  Anyway, she told me that as of May (the end of our school year) she will no longer be watching Ayla. This hit me like a ton of bricks.  I wasn't blindsided by this though.  I've known that this was always a possibility and probability.  But it didn't make it any easier.  In fact, I cannot even sit here typing this blog without getting all teary-eyed. Logically, I know Ayla will be okay.  She will thrive, in reality, and probably love being around lots of kids and working on a learning curriculum with teachers.   I'm just not sure if I'll be okay. To understand where I am coming from

Until you have a child, you never realize just how much revolves around one tiny person.  In fact, even during pregnancy, your life is claimed by something outside of yourself (well, inside technically, but outside of your life experience to that point).   When I was pregnant, everything revolved around my belly.  How big it was, how high or low, did I mention how big?  Everyone was so fixated on that one thing, and I have to admit, I was too.  I remember longing for my "bump" to appear so I could look pregnant instead of just chubby.  Before I knew it, around month 5, I was having tremendous pains that had me convinced something was terribly wrong with Ayla.   That pain would be called round ligament pain as my body was growing quite literally by the second.  I remember at the end of one weekend noticing how big I had gotten just since that Friday. Every day, it seemed, someone was asking me about how far along I was, how long was left, and boy, I looked like I might pop an

I find it interesting that the childhood memories I hold so dear to me are rooted in such simplicity or wrapped up in the kind of trouble that only a child can get into. When I was a child, my dad bowled in a Tuesday night bowling league.  My mom, baby brother, and I stayed home with my mom and little brother.  Some evenings, my mom had her daycare kids late.  I was always a super scaredy cat kid, especially once the sun went down. We used to watch a show called "Rescue 911" and after that "Unsolved Mysteries" came on.  I often wondered, in my 4-year-old mind,  if they really answered 911 calls the way they did on the show ("911, what is your emergency?"), so one night, I decided to find out for myself.  I dialed 911, got an answer.  I was so shocked and amazed by what I'd just done that I called back.  Shortly thereafter, the cops arrived at my house, just as my dad was leaving the driveway.  Luckily, my mom vouched that my dad was indeed my dad, an