Category Archives: Parenting

>Panic Attack Magazine: A Thousand and One Ways That Christmas Can Kill You

>This month Dave got to enjoy Panic Attack Magazine because I read it to Dave, Luke and Grandad on the way to Eldora last weekend. Luke loves it because of all the recipes for sweets and pictures of junk food and toys. Dave mostly ignored me, but I think some of the message sunk in.

We learned that you need to bleach your tree trunk, let it dry out in the driveway, clean off mold and allergens, never let your tree dry out, put your tree up immediately, and don’t leave it for more than a month.

Inspect each ornament for dust, dirt, wear, tear, frayed edges, and allergens.

Call ahead to ask your hostess not to use scented candles that can inflame airways. Call ahead, people.

Also, know that your baby could pull on the stockings and get clocked in the head by a clunky ornament holder. And once again, a little bit of panic crept in. Dave busted me when he saw the naked stocking holders, with the stockings limply laying on the chair, homeless. “Yup. Good job avoiding a head injury.”

In other news, posting once a day for the entire month of November caused me to get burned out, hardly write anything, post only pictures, and take Dec 1 off. Then the cable was out on the 2nd. When I got home from the PTA meeting on the 3rd, I had to do a whole days worth of work due to the cable outage, plus watch the last two episodes of Band Of Brothers. See, I bet I never even said anything about how our latest TV obsession was Band Of Brothers, and now it’s all over.

So, now I have to ease back into the posting thing, and after writing about how ornaments and trees can kill you, I don’t even have time to cover the fact that your children will have holiday meltdowns, and be afraid of Santa, and I am not even going to touch the fire safety. Sigh.

If I can find the memory card reader, I should have cute pictures for tomorrow though!

>Momtrepreneur

>Jack has a booger situation. Just lots of boogers. And he doesn’t like to have his nose wiped. If he sees you coming with any form of washcloth, tissue, or even napkin he hides his face and it’s all over. The best method is usually to hold him in one arm, and sort of trap his hands and wrestle him to the ground with the other arm wielding a wet washcloth. But if I miss, which I do about 80% of the time, then I get a shoulder full of mucus. My latest invention idea (said as if I have ever before come up with an invention) is a terry cloth shoulder/arm band that could act as a secondary mucus receptacle. Or could at least protect my clothing.

In fact, the other day at work someone was talking about which of their kids had the highest fever, and how bad they felt, when I moved as far away as I could in a tiny conference room and then refused to use their pen. I tried to make light of my germaphobia by saying, “No seriously, I just decided I didn’t really need a pen after all! I have a little Howard Hughes thing going on. And I probably even have boogers on my shirt, ha ha.” Hair toss, non-crazy smile.

“Yeah, you do. I can see it from here.”

Eww.

So today I put a warm wet washcloth over my shoulder and went after Jack with a kleenex. He nuzzled right into the washcloth, yanked his head back and then burrowed into another, unwashclothed covered part of my arm, spreading the wealth all over the place. And I had a wet shoulder. So now I just have to go for plan C: wear t-shirts and do a lot of laundry, and brace myself for a long winter.

>It’s Not That He is Jealous, It’s Just That He Doesn’t Want Luke on Your Lap

>Today after dinner we were all playing with this cool shake-up car. Dave and Jack were at one end of the hallway and Luke and I were at the other. We took turns shaking up the car and watching it go, then sending it back to each other. New batteries really turned things up a notch with that car. At one point, it went careening down the stairs, shook itself up on the way, hit the landing and took off again. Hilarity ensued.

And then Luke sat on my lap. And from across the room there was this ungodly yell. A roar almost. It came out of a one year old that was crawling like the wind, at speeds never before clocked in our living room. And that one year old was coming straight at us. He climbed right up Luke’s body, over his head and onto my lap where he started pushing Luke as far away has he could. Which wasn’t far, because Jack has short arms, and Luke wasn’t going anywhere, so there was lots of yelling, pushing, and laughing. Luke and I were shaking with laughter. When I got my breath I said, “Jack never struck me as the jealous type.” And Dave said, “It’s not that he’s jealous. He just doesn’t want Luke on your lap.”

All this took place under wafts of pumpkin cake aroma. I took a picture, but why bother getting it off my camera, when it looks exactly like this?

>More Momification for MetaMegan

>In addition to soccer mom, making school lunches, and babies playing with tupperware, we can now add one more thing to the list of things that make me feel like a mom: Sitting at a concert. I mean, I guess I’ve put on a sundress, and unrolled a blanket in the sun at Blossom, or that place in Athens that has the Bob Marley festival. But I think when the music started I got up and danced. I have now experienced the awkward sensation of hearing and seeing one of my favorite bands and just sort of dancing in my seat. It wasn’t pretty.

Last week I was instant messaging my brother and I told him I was thinking of seeing G. Love that night because my friend had an excessive amount of free tickets. He said, “Oh! He’s still around. Cool.” I have to say that took a little bit of the fun out of it. On the other hand, if the free tickets hadn’t clued me in that this G. Love experience would be different from all the others, then that comment should have.

The first song was “The Things That We Used To Do” and I settled back into my seat to remember the things that I used to do. I used to always be within eye contact of G, and he was always checking me out and ignoring Krista and Amy. And after the show, we once ran into him and invited him to stop by our house, but he politely declined. So instead of pushing my way through the crowd to get to the front, I was sneaking into the close seats with my balcony ticket. And then getting thrown out. It seems like once you get to officially be a mom, that you just take your balcony ticket and you sit up there by yourself because you are with two other people and the three of you have three sets of two tickets.

I am not making this sound like as much fun as it was, don’t get me wrong, it was really fun. And once we traded our good seats for balcony seats adjacent to one of our other sets of tickets, it very comfortable. A little loud though…

Photo Credit: soboclassifieds

>Shake it, Shake it, Shake it Don’t Break It

>If you read yesterday’s post this may sound a tiny bit familiar.

Long story short, I am trying to get Jack to hold off and eat later in the morning. Later than 4 or 5 am that is. So instead of feeding him and quickly getting back to bed, I run in there at every peep and give him the paci or cover him with a blanket to stretch out the time before he is fully awake. And I have also been putting a spare paci on the dresser next to his crib so he can get it himself if his other one falls on the floor. Brilliant, I know.

Also on his dresser: three glass ornaments and a ceramic Pat the Bunny bank.

So after a quick trip in there yesterday morning I thought for sure I had another 10 minutes and I crawled back into bed.

Wah wah. Silence. Ting, Ting.

Ting, ting? Hmm, Jack’s about the 7th baby to use that crib, maybe it is falling apart? Nah, it’s nothing.

Ting, ting, ting.

AAAH! I better investigate.

Ting, ting, ting, oh hi Mommy!

And Jack was in his crib, shaking his Pat the Bunny bank. He had the bunny by the ears, and he was shaking that bank as hard as he could, but he gave it to me when I asked for it. And he waved at the bank as I put it on his dresser. He waved and waved. And then he started to nurse but immediately had to sit up quickly, turn around, and wave at the bank. Over and over. Hi bank! You sound so pretty when I shake you!

So how did he get the bank? Does he have arms that are twice as long as I thought? Or did he climb up on the dresser, grab the bank and then get back in his crib? These were the only two options that I could come up with.

I told the story to Luke over breakfast and he thought it was really funny until I said that I had NO IDEA how Jack could have gotten the bank, and then Luke became contemplative. “Hmm. I wonder… if… maybe… Maisey… and I… didn’tputitbackwhereitgoes?”

It may be time to rearrange Jack’s room. And maybe I’ll just put 7 or 8 pacifiers in his crib and call it a night.

>Pre/Post Mad Men Musings

>
Welcome to the, “I’m Back! And I’m going to start posting again! And using a lot of extra punctuation, (mainly parenthess!) post!”

I told Dave that I sort of feel as if I have been a zombie for the last month and I am finally back to being myself again. (ie: Toast as a side dish.) This weekend I was cleaning closets and organizing rooms and crossing things off my to do list – and this is a to do list that is so old and neglected that it has stuff on it from early September. (Sorry Katie – I never bought that baptism gift!) (Dave pointed out that I stopped looking at my to do list right around the time my blog output completely dropped off to hardly anything.) I don’t know if it was beginning of school stress, end of Bean’s life stress, or the changing seasons, but I have shed my zombie inclinations, just in time for Halloween! (Braaaains!)

Speaking of Bean, Dave and I were at a party on Friday and I was overheard saying, “Oh, plans for tomorrow? I am taking the boys to get a flu shot and then we are picking up the dog’s ashes.”

Another mom said, “Um, you might want to throw in a trip to the ice cream store or something.”

Good advice. We had a nice weekend, and the weather was perfect for a little backyard ceremony.

In other news: Jack is looking like he wants to start walking. Perfect timing because the memory on my camera is full and I can’t find the card thingy. (When Luke was about to start walking there was a smudge on my camera (birthday cake from his party) and I freaked out and ran to the camera store. They dipped a Q tip in windex and wiped off the lens.)

Moving on… ***Mad Men Spoiler*** Who watches? And do we think Don is the father of Betty’s baby? I think not. Thoughts? Just six short months until next season.

>Toast, It’s What’s For Dinner

>I seem to go through phases where everything seems to be under control, and then I have phases where two nights in a row I am serving toast as a dinner side dish because there isn’t anything else.

I think we are coming out of a toast eating phase because I ended my grocery store boycott (the remodel is finished) and I totally stocked up for the winter. We have grains! Vegetables! Snack options! And so on. I also cleaned off the kitchen counter and the top of the book shelf for the first time since Luke started school. That school is a paper and art project factory.

And I am even finished with my blog post early! Next up, I will figure out how I am going to vote on the 97 issues on the Colorado ballot so I can attempt to vote tomorrow. Because of a past issue with our mailman, I decided not to get a mail in ballot, even though Dave’s arrived just fine. We also got confirmation that our next door neighbor was registered to vote at her address. (See? See!)

In other mailman related news, the October Parents magazine that I read cover to cover (against my better judgment) in the lactation room a MONTH ago arrived in the mail today. I started to feel irate again and then I remembered, I don’t even have a subscription to Parents magazine!

>Jack’s Birthday

>So, Jack’s birthday is right around the corner, and if I hadn’t been keeping track, I might think he was turning two instead of one. Thursday morning he woke up at about 6:30 and when I went in to get him from his crib he said, “Mama! Mama!” And he gave me a big hug. I snuggled with him on the rocking chair and I said, “Do you want some milk?” No, he didn’t, and he told me by shaking his head no. Awww, so cute. And really, who would be hungry at 6:30 am when they had just eaten at 4:45am?

This morning I am happy to announce that my little angel slept until 6am straight through the night. I was so confused when I woke up – what time is it? did I forget to set the alarm? where am I? I remembered dreams for the first time in a year. Crazy, weird dreams. And this morning Jack ate and then slid off my lap to start playing. I sat there, blissfully imagining a productive work day where my head didn’t hit the keyboard at any point in time. And then I said, “Jack, do you want to get dressed?”

He shook his head “no”.

Other questions posed to Jack today:
Do you want some milk before dinner? No.
Are you hungry? No.
Do you want some more? No.
Do you want to get down? No.

And so on.

So now that he waves, high fives (sometimes), says “Dada” and “Mama”, says “nom nom nom” when he wants to eat, and shakes his head no, we are all working on teaching the little gentleman to say, “Yes.”

And at daycare they are teaching him to blow kisses, and if he learns that, I’ll probably forgive everything else for a while.

>MetaMegan’s Mangled "Me Time"

>Luke has swimming lessons on Thursdays, and the pick up time is between 5:45 and 6:00 at the pool, which is very close to my office. Since I finish work at 5:00, that means 45 whole minutes of glorious “me time” between work and pick up. I declared Thursday to be Megan Day! I dressed nicely because on Thursdays I have to drive! I brought the paper to read while I sipped a latte somewhere between Whole Foods and Barnes and Noble after leisurely strolling the magazine and fiction section! Thursdays, how I have looked forward to you, lo these many weeks since I signed Luke up for swimming lessons. How I imagined what I could be doing instead of hovering around the lesson that first week. How I wished I was more organized the second week when I was speeding to pick Luke up after we had stupidly scheduled his parent-teacher conference at the school at the end of the day, forgetting he would be across town at lessons.

Maybe it was a case of too much anticipation? Maybe 45 minutes isn’t really that much time? Especially because 10 of those minutes were spent talking to my boss, not realizing it was already 5:00 pm? And 10 minutes were spent finding a parking space at Whole Foods, and 10 minutes were spent purchasing peanut butter at Whole Foods so I can make lunches this evening. And 5 minutes were spent waiting for my latte. So yeah, I browsed for 2 minutes, spent 3 minutes in line debating just chucking the book and running for the door. I made up excuses in my mind for not being there when the lesson ended. Like, “I couldn’t find a parking space!” (Eerily, that came true.) Alas, when I arrived at the Y, Luke was lounging on the couch watching TV. He managed to slide one eye in my direction to glare at me reproachfully for not being the first parent there, all the while keeping the other eye glued to Nickelodeon.

And then we left, and he immediately and completely melted down into a pile of crying, screaming, hungry goo. I brought him a plum for a snack. That made things worse.

But! The day was saved! Because if are coming down from a relaxing three minutes of me time, and you have a screaming child in the car who needs a snack, and you have recently purchased some peanut butter… I think you can see where this is going. I loaded up a spoon full of peanut butter to take the edge off his hunger meltdown, while simultaneously gluing his mouth shut for the rest of the drive home.

Megan Day was saved.