The Daily Fuss

Mern

My little Mairin will turn two next month. She appears sweet and innocent in this photo. And she is ... for the most part.

The wee Mairin wakes cheerfully most mornings. She's been eating well. She even goes down peacefully for a nap these days.

Bedtime is a very different story.

At bedtime, I refer to her as "Mern" (rhymes with Vern).

Even though she has been "weaned" for some time, I feel compelled to use air quotes around the term because she still asks for "boobie dish" or "boom boom" when she's tired.

I can rebuff her advances at nap time. However, the same approach in the evening elicits an argument from Mern. 

She sticks her hand down my shirt, makes sly attempts to negotiate ("May I have some boom boom, please?") and gets pretty cranky when refused. This little game can last an hour or more and I've grown tired of it.

I've tried ignoring her, negotiating with her, explaining to her. I've even tried citrus, but suspect she may have acquired a taste for tartness as a result.

I know she knows I don't want to argue with her over this any more. She's super duper smart. She's been potty trained for months, accesses a vast vocbulary for a teeny tot and can hold a discussion about what happened in The Sound of Music or Dora the Explorer.

The problem with Mairin is that she's the most stubborn person I've ever met.

She's absolutely particular and holds her ground when challenged. She would categorize parties as sheer torture - it takes her a long time to warm up. She simply refuses to eat yesterday's leftovers and can muster the energy to carry a temper tantrum to the highest heights.

Miss Leighton is nearly four. By stark contrast to her sister, she's rather aimiable and will go with the flow when encouraged or distracted. She can find the fun in almost every situation and loves a grand party. She'll try any food at least once and rarely loses her temper.

Night and day in many ways.

The silver lining here is that it's interesting to see how two little girls can grow up side by side in the same house with the same parents and turn out so different. I know the "Mern" veneer will fall away and Mairin will finally stop hassling me about boobie dish once and for all.

I respect my girls, their differences, similarities, stengths and areas earmarked for improvement. I promise I will never take them for granted.

I just felt the need to revel in the ridiculousness of a situation that I will someday probably miss.

Mama loves you, Mern.

Now please keep your hand out of my shirt.

{Pinteresting} Color-Inspired Craftiness

Here are a few, colorful ideas that caught my eye this morning.

I'm clearly in a crafty mood. If you are too, then be sure to check out these pins. I even found a clever, space-saving work table/desk in case your spare on space to exercise your DIY demons.

1. Glass Pendants

If anyone is already wondering what the girls will be giving for Christmas this year, I will put an end to your needless suspense.

Super easy and adorable. I will post my take on these glass pendants once we've made an assortment.

2. Nature Art

This is another DIY art project that can go either grown-up modern or kid-friendly chic.

I think we'll probably use waterproof outdoor paint, varnish them and hang them on the garage above the potting bench.

3. Eco-Friendly Paper Towel Alternative

You can spend some time behind the sewing machine or just swing by her Etsy shop and buy a pre-made set of these clever paper towel alternatives.

We have a drawer full of retro cloth diapers and reusable organic cotton wipes that we use in lieu of paper towel most of the time. Still, my husband buys Bounty because he can't help himself - he grew up that way.

I believe a giant roll of paper has no place on the counter top and the fact that there are holders for such things makes me cringe. This color-popping, earth-friendly alternative is the perfect compromise.

4. Spacesaving Desk

I love finding new ways to hide mail, receipts, scissors, ribbon, stamps and any one of a multitude of tidbit nuiscances that find themselves scattered about my house at the end of a busy day.

I also love the utilitarian challenge of using every nook and cranny of the home for good instead of evil. "Evil" meaning "clutter", of course.

This handy table/desk/workbench makes all the sense in the world to me. I like to think I would have the follow-through to keep it clean enough to fold up from time to time.

Enjoy! Feel free to post some of your Pinteresting finds to comments and share your fuss with us.

Jump

Life before marriage and kids allowed for a fair amount of risk-taking. Settling down to feather and fill my nest set me on the familiar, working-mom trajectory.

I just turned 36 and somewhere in the month leading up to that birthday, I had an exhausting realization:

Unless I regain control of my fate, the only difference between birthday 36 and birthday 46 will be the fact that I'm an older wife and mom with an older husband and kids and a REALLY old house that STILL needs a new roof.

I vaguely remember once saying that I wanted to retire at 45.

Something happened when I had my babies. I instictively felt the need to maintain status quo with every other aspect of my life and focus the remaining 99.99% of my efforts on getting each of those babies, my husband and I through their first years.

And I didn't bother to lose the baby weight between having the girls.

And I wasn't able to put the finishing touches on the renovations we had done to the house.

And I didn't stick my neck out for what I wanted in my job.

It's as though I was afraid to do anything to provoke the gods of change. I needed to muddle my way up to Mairin's first birthday to find freedom from the shackles of post-partem hormones and adjustments and rapid-fire pediatrician appointments and breastfeeding and sleep deprivation and the like.

Working out in any way other than gardening was simply not going to happen from either a scheduling or committment standpoint. I'm not one to set myself up for failure, so I didn't even bother to engage myself in earnest to attempt weight-loss.

The house? Our half bath still lacks switchplate covers and caulk. And I just hooked up the sink a few weeks ago. You'll find more of the same throughout the house.

I passively moved through my baby-having years with my job too. I certainly wanted to keep it, and I maintained my desire to excel. Yet, somewhere between two maternity leaves, dramatically shifting compensation plans and a drastically different subset of clients, my give-a-damn cranked itself down into a regrettably lower gear.

I've been making my way out of the haze since Mairin turned one.

I've flipped my perspective on the inability to wean her - I'm still nurturing her while maintaining a bond she's clearly not ready to break. Yay me.

I'm happily busy with work and clients and all predictible aspects of business development.

My nanny and I are in stride most days. The kids and the house are cared for and I have what I need to be fully present when work is over for the day or the week.

I'm running the North Shore Half Marathon on Sunday, fully expecting to finish it at a 10 minute/mile pace.

My garden is in full swing and my lovely (albeit timeconsuming) landscaping project is coming together.

With all of this momentum building behind me, I need something to push me to the proverbial next level. If I really want to shake it up, I need to stay uncomfortable. Existing within my comfort zone won't produce any real satisfaction; It won't make me smarter or stronger or a better wife and mother.

Pain and growth are closely aligned and no matter the tiedious preparations made for change, the final bit always requires a leap of faith.

I've done the work. All I have to do now is ... JUMP.

Once I figure out exactly what that means, you'll be the first to know.

Boom Boom Part II: Lemon Drop

As I may have mentioned, Mairin is still nursing and basically using me as a pacifier at night. What sleep I do manage to get is achieved in a crooked "S" shape on my right side.  

I understand the argument that my youngest will eventually roll her eyes at me and make me drop her off a block before the theater and I will long for the days when she was a wee babe.

I realize that I said I would coast along for another two months and then phase out feedings. I said this as recently as Monday.

But, I can't take much more of this. She and I both need a good, solid night's sleep for a change. Actually, all four of us need it. Mairin's late night fussing has been waking up Leighton, who ends up in our bed, digging her toes into Ryan's spine.

We enjoy the family bed, but sometimes it's an ugly commune-type situation that results in a tough morning. We've had a string of those lately and something needs to change. Plus, my little Marinka Dinka has all but forgotten how to self-sootheas she likes to nurse to sleep. It's unequivocally my job as her parent to help her with that.

At approximately 1:00 am Tuesday morning, I broke free from my crooked "S" and found my iPad next to the bed.  I began Googling "how to wean a toddler," and "toddler resists weaning" and a few other seemingly absurd variations.

Most of what I found on the good old interweb pertained to weaning toddlers from a bottle. This, to me, seemsa much simpler proposition than weaning a toddler form the breast. I've done it with Leighton. I just didn't give her a bottle and talked her through the withdrawal. She was done in two nights at the age of sixteen months - from boobie to baba to batte just like that.

A toddler can't climb into the upper cabinet, fetch a bottle, assemble the nipple, get the milk from the fridge, heat it up, pour it into the bottle, screw on the nipple and have her batte. Toddlers are crafty, but not that capable.

They are, however, able to unbutton a blouse, shove their hands into the neckline of a shirt, stretch it out, throw a temper tantrum, bite through the blouse, pull out your earnings and repeatedly yell, "BOOM BOOM" as loudly as possible to cause a scene.

If I could put my breasts in a kitchen cabinet on some days, I would do it.  Alas, no.

So that brings me back to what the Google machine eventually did reveal. The message boards and blog comments have all the goods - the real answers from real people who aren't afraid you're going to try to sue them for giving worthy advice.  

I stumbled upon a few comments about toddler weaning using lemon juice. WHAT? I know, rubbing lemon juice on my boobs struck me as something akin a dare or a cruel trick to play on a little kid. Still, the desperate women who tried it happily reported that it worked like a charm. Their babies didn't mind much and lost interest fairly quickly.

So,I tried it. I cut a lemon in half and applied it to the targets. Before bedtime, Mairin made her plea for "Boom Boom". I let her try it and she pulled back, made a little face and said, "taste", "taste" while shaking her head. She tried it again with the same reaction. Then, she hopped off my lap and got a book to read.

A little while later, Ryan picked her up for bed. She said, "boom boom?" so I offered it up. She looked at me for a moment and, apparently remembering her previous attempt, changed her mind. She said "no" kissed me good night and went off to bed.

And then, I cried.

Boom Boom

In light of the whole "Are You Mom Enough" extreme parenting brew ha ha, it's as good a time as any to mention my fear that Mairin will soon need a step ladder for boobie dish. 

She will be sixteen months old on June 3rd and still asks for "boom boom" throughout the day.

She only nurses at bedtime (usually) but she's been teething (four at a time) and I feel bad for her and so ... I cave.

Leighton weaned herself fully by ten months. It was easy - for both of us. Mairin is a different story entirely, and I'm not sure what to do about it. She's so happy to nurse and so miserable when denied.

I always said that when she got teeth, I'd be done. She has ten, but she's figured out what "gentle" means. She's old enough to understand that this situation is not ideal, but plays dumb when I tell her she's a big girl and should eat her dinner because she can't have boobie dish forever.

She makes a pitiful face and tugs at my neckline and replies, "Boom boom". 

What's a mom to do?

To answer my own question, I am content to coast along without a hard and fast plan for another two months and then commit to phasing out the feedings.

Until July 21st, I suspect that boom boom will continue as usual.

Mom Enough

I must admit that my first reaction to the cover of this magazine was, "I don't get it. What's the problem?" My nanny then pointed out to me that the child is "quite old," to which I slowly replied, "Huh. I guess he's probably four-ish."

This cover and the title of the related story "Are You Mom Enough" is causing more of a stir than Alicia Silverstone's premastication video blog.

The article is about attachment parenting and Dr. Sears - the man who defined it. Key components of attachment parenting include (among other things) co-sleeping, breastfeeding, letting your child dictate its schedule and the like.

You can take the TIME quiz on parenting styles here for free if you are wondering where you fall on the attachment parenting spectrum.

Questions swirling about the blogosphere fall largely into the category of, "What is TIME trying to do?" and "Has TIME gone too far?"

Shock and awe aside, the article and its provocative title/photo combo illuminates a heightened sense of parenting in our culture these days. And it makes sense, as a wave of "natural parenting" has washed over us in the last decade.

Breastfeeding is back in vogue - to the point that we have a secondary market for human milk. Organic food has become more widely available and less expensive. The BPA scare boosted the sale of glass baby bottles and spurred the elmination of its use. Baby wearing  is all the rage. Throngs of children are not properly vaccinated, either timely or at all, due to fear and mystery surrounding autism.

The list goes on.

In the wake of the women's liberation movement, the main devisive issue for moms was whether or not to work outside the home. The debate pitted the working mom against the stay-at-home mom and many an Oprah-esque argument ensued.

It was so much simpler then, when one side felt it damaging to leave children without mom for more than a few hours and the other felt that children need to see their moms do more than just take care of them.

I really do believe that we Americans are culturally enlightened enough to get past our own jealousies and insecurities to see the positives and drawbacks inherent in either situation. We now have the SAHM (Stay At Home Mom); the WoMo (Working Mom); the WAHM (Work At Home Mom) and seemingly no apology from any party as to the label.

With progress comes new challenges. And, as we open up the idea of "natural" motherhood we rely on "mother's intuition" in ways that, frankly, piss off our pediatricians. Maybe we shouldn't believe everything we're told. Maybe we shouldn't trust the system as much as we do.

With rapid exchange of information in these times, we've seen that the system doesn't always work. Is controlled breathing all I need to get me through childbirth? Can I have a glass of wine? What's in that formula? What's in that vaccine? If the risk of SIDS is really higher when baby sleeps alone? What hormones were fed to that cow? Does the sugar in juice really cause obesity and eat your brain?

The motherhood playing field has shifted dramatically and it's more devisive than ever. It's become the game of mothers judging each other for doing specific things that will ostensibly harm their children in some way. For me, this article is less about Dr. Sears, and more about jumpstarting that dormant conversation.

You know ... the one I'm having right now.

Moms, in honor of our upcoming day of motherly celebration, let's all relax. Being a mom is a tough job and we shouldn't judge each other for the choices we make.

I take the un-apologetic approach to parenting. We do what works for us and the kids always come first. Here's our parenting style in a nutshell:

The girls have a routine. They behave better when they know what's coming next. Our nanny is better at keeping the routine than Ryan and I.

Mairin comes in our bed between midnight and two am. She still nurses at night at 15 months. We eat as well as we can. We try different foods. If we don't like it, we need to try it again later. We drink juice on occasion. We have dessert.

We have rules and strive to be orderly, but our house gets messy. A lot. In the name of projects and art and more projects, we get messy.

We don't tolerate meaness. We allow for self-expression and understand that we need to choose our battles and try not to make a big deal out of too many things.

We have Disney movies and princess stuff and sports stuff and instruments and try to maintain a balance. We don't say things are "boy things" or "girl things". We have dance parties and movie nights.

We always say "I love you" and never NEVER EVER take each other for granted.

So take that Dr. Sears, Time magazine and defiant breastfeeding cover mom. You can't define my parenting style in such strict terms. Even if you are just trying to sell some magazines.

Cow Boobie Dish

Putting Lei to bed tonight, we got into a conversation about what milk is and where it comes from.

Oh joy.

We went through the list: coconut milk is from coconuts, almond, soy, sheep, cow, mommy and the like.

Leighton asked thoughtful questions while I tickled her back and tried to get her to sleep. I could almost hear the gears turning. I was confident that a conversation about milk would send her off to dreamland.

BO-RING.

Leighton rolled over and looked at me squarely and said, "So milkis really cow boobie dish?"

I answered in the affirmative unsure of whether she would find it gross or fine or something else. She said, "Hmm. Oh. Okay. I like it."

I have no idea what tomorrow will bring with regard to this topic. I wonder what food and beverage questions are coming down the pike. I'm just happy she's thinking about food in ways most people don't.

My kids calls breastmilk "boobie dish". It evolved over time. It started with Lue, who eats what we call "dry dish" which is our word for kibble. Sometimes she gets "fish in the dish"or "pasta dish" or whatever. Maybe we watch too many cooking shows. Whatever the reason, it's dry dish for Lue and boobie dish for the baby. It is what it is.

{Debatable} Kiss Feeding

Last week, Alicia Silverstone caught hell for mouth feeding (kiss feeding, birding) her son Bear Blu on YouTube.

A throng of websites and bloggers immediately lambasted her for "unsanitary" behavior. Days later, commentary has cooled some, with a even a few experts making an argument for the unorthodox practice.

A video clip Alicia posted to her blog set the frenzy in motion. The YouTube clip can be seen here:

 

My first reaction to this is that I am a mother and I try not to judge other mothers. This isn't illegal or abusive or even mean. It's just a kinda weird for some people.

I am still nursing a fourteen month-old and plenty of people have an opinion about that. I can assure you, Mairin sees nothing wrong with it.

As for kiss feeding (or what is actually referred to as pre-mastication) I like the other side of the discussion in defense of the practice. For example, author Natalie Wolchover is happy to point out a few facts about pre-mastication in her piece Should You Chew Your Baby's Food Like Alicia Silverstone? She writes:

"Babies start requiring non-milk food in their diets at six months old, but they don't develop the molars they need to chew most foods until age 18 to 24 months. According to research led by Gretel Pelto, an anthropologist at Cornell University, pre-mastication was the solution to feeding infants during this interim period for most of human history, and remains the method used in many cultures today. Rather than being unhygienic, Pelto and many other scientists think the feeding method carries on the immune-system-building process that begins with breastfeeding. By exposing infants to traces of disease pathogens present in a mother's saliva, it gears up their production of antibodies, teaching their immune systems how to deal with those same pathogens later."

Read the full article here.

As the article suggests, maybe dear Alicia is just ahead of the curve in finding "natural" ways to keep our kids happy and healthy. Or, maybe she's a simple nut. Either way, she's a mom and is doing what she feels is best for her baby that she's obviously head-over-heels in love with.

Who are we to judge?

Disney World Part I: Rose-Colored (Mouse-Eared) Glasses

Planning any vacation takes considerable thought and it pays to consider your company whilst plotting your journey. My husband is the family concierge - the fungineer - and he is fabulous.

We've had this trip to Disney World planned for months. Grandma Freeman has a conference in Orlando, so we built our vacation around it. I can tell you with full confidence that she, like my husband, imagined an ideal Disney experience.

Here's how the fantasy version goes: The plane gently touches down in Orlando as the kids rouse and rub their eyes after sleeping the entire way. We exit the airport into an arid, 75 degree atmosphere as the rental car magically appears at the curb to greet us. We swiftly make our way to the resort, get the early check in and head to our fully updated suites.

We enjoy the pool, make dinner and get to bed early for the next day at Magic Kingdom. We get from the hotel to the Kingdom gate in no more than 15 minutes and are immediately greeted by Minnie, Mickey and a throng of Princesses to kick off our day free from hunger, heat, humidity and waiting in any line of any kind.

It's so great, we don't even need a plan - we can just wander around aimlessly and the fun will find us. Oh ... and no one ever needs to eat or drink anything or potty or have her diaper changed. We're just perfectly sated and hydrated the whooooooole time.

And no one ever has a temper tantrum. Especially not an almost three year-old.

Oh hell no. THAT IS SO NOT how it went down.

But we pulled it off - even better than I had imagined.

We rocked Magic Kingdom, met princesses and princes, napped in mom and dad's sweaty arms while in line to meet said royalty. We ate boobie dish waiting for shows to start, waited for rides we were too afraid to ride and rode the stroller all over the world - literally (Epcot).

We pulled out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches grandpa had stashed and mish mash and juice and bottled water while we made our way through the points on the map. 

We acquired baby Tinkerbelle and Rapunzel, a dress for breakfast with the Princesses (that we never wore because the arm elastic was "ITCHEEEEEEEEE"), an Ariel jewelry box for our new Cinderella necklace, pjs for both girls, crayons and coloring books. I'd say we did a decent job sticking to my "We're not buying ANYTHING at Disey World rule."

We ate and drank and laughed and cried and watched and listened and took pictures and blew kisses and had a fantastic time.

I would do it again starting right now. If anyone other than Bill Gates and Oprah could afford it and if Leighton hadn't told me that Disney World is "for special occasions" only.

And for all of the waiting and whining and sweating and pouting ... the laughter and the fun is what we will remember.

Pin It

Multitasking

So, I'm feeding Mairin. Since she's almost one, she only requires a top-off around dinner time and then some evening nursing. On this particular night, I'm also still working - tap, tap, tapping away at my laptop.

Leighton is quiet for a moment or two (which is certainly suspicious) and so I look up and whip my head around.

Woosh. Woosh.

Not to worry. There she is on her little, green PBK couch with a baby doll stuffed up her Dorothy dress, shimmering her fingers about. ("Shimmering" is the best way to describe it. "Fluttering" would be close too.)

"Are you feeding your baby?", I asked.

"Yes.", she replied with confidence. "But I also need my laptop."

Pin It

What the Fuss? WONDER!

It's a superstore! It's a play land! It's WONDER!

Imagine a 35,000 square foot baby and child emporium stocked with every toy, necessity and boutique find imaginable. It also has a huge play area where you can stay all day and try out the toys available in the store.

I like to shop online - almost exclusively. And luckily WONDER! offers that option too. Still, the store is so much fun, I can't resist the urge to shop in person.

 

 

WONDER! also has:

Nursing lounges for breastfeeding mamas

A custom "race" track to test drive wheeled vehicles

A fully stocked library area to test drive books and visit for story time

Private party spaces

Yoga, music, creative movement and art classes taught by amazing instructors

A fun-filled event calendar

Nursery and kid room vignettes

A stay-all-day or annual membership play area

Friendly and helpful staff

A kid-friendly easel at every checkout

 
 
Rumors of another store abound, but at this time, there is only one WONDER! 

This store is also the online distribution center. If it's in stock online, then I know it's in the store.

Fantastic!

WONDER! is located at 250 South Waukegan Road in Deerfield, IL.

All photos courtesy of WONDER!

Pin It