Thursday, March 31, 2011

Rain, Rain Go Away!

We woke up to another rainy day, which is definitely not the norm here in sunny Baltimore, so after breakfast and playing with our toys (again) A was starting to get restless. No problem! I texted two of my girlfriends about a playdate to Tiny Town, and within minutes we were packed and in the car. If you don't have a Tiny Town in your city, man are you missing out. Imagine a large room (like the size of a mall store) filled with a tiny, squishy "town". There are two slides, various tunnels, a car, and a garden (remember all fake) for the kids to walk, crawl, and hurl themselves down. The material is hard to explain, but picture everything made out of a giant life jacket, with a slippery-ish rubber coating. Germs can't live there and the kids can really pick up some speed on the slides! The perfect place for the crawler-toddler.

So as we fight through the door at Tiny Town, apparently everyone thought it would be a good idea this morning, I spot my girlfriends. We take our usual position in between the two slides as the kids climb up the imaginary castle and throw themselves down the slide, over and over again. Oh, wait...that isn't right, only A was throwing herself with reckless abandonment down the slide...head first. She thought it was so much fun as she zipped down the slide and tumbled onto the carpet. Wow...that makes me sound like world's worst parent...let me explain a bit more. The slides are about two and 1/2 feet long and they end directly on the two inch thick carpet. So really no harm can occur. Or that is what I though...

After A and her two friends had exhausted the one slide they made their way through the tunnels and around to the other more traditional looking slide (still only a few feet long and about three times as wide as a regular slide with a nice big platform on top). So A is leading the pack of three up the four steps to the flat platform before the slide starts when this boy, who has got to be about 6, takes one jump and clears the steps up to the platform, howls something straight from Twighlight, and jumps in the air before landing on the slide and rolling about three feet onto the carpet below. Luckily, A was not caught in his path of destruction, unlike the two little one-year-olds who happened to be walking in his "tumble zone". Of course, the other mom's and I gasp and snap our necks around to see what parent is responsible for this terror in our "town". I kid you not, a hooker would have looked more appropriate than this mother. Tight, paint-on jeans, were accessorized by a toddler's purple tank top, strappy 4 inch heels, and bright red lip liner. Remember it is raining and about 40 degrees outside. Okay, I hear you...that doesn't sounds awful. Oh, just you wait. The jeans zipped up to her knee, the top was showing too much arm and tummy (some rolls were definitely hanging out), and apparently all she had in her make-up bag was lip liner, no lipstick. I can't go into the hurts my memory! I also, swear I saw her take an unlit cigarette out of her mouth when she smashed the stroller through the door and parked it in the middle of "town".
As my girlfriends and I pick up our jaws, and try to focus on our own children, we chalk up the little boys crazy entrance as mere excitement of being free from that lady, and able to run around. That was until he continued terrorizing Tiny Town like the play yard bully. Now, I want A to grow up to be a tough kid, but some things do cross the line. It was not the initial shove, as he zoomed by her on his way to dive-bomb the slide again, or even when she got caught in his tumble zone, oh, no...but when he cut in-front of her and shoved her off the stairs (using A's head to propel himself forward) that is when he crossed the line. And trust me, she got away pretty compared to the slower, wimpier kids.

A we packed up our slightly beaten-up kids and glared at the "mom", we made a secret pack to grease the slide and steal their stroller if they ever came back to our Tiny Town again!

Rain, rain GO AWAY!

Daily Mom

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Is There Ever a Too Young?

A and I were in gym class today, having a blast, when little-miss-independent decided she was going to explore on her own. She even gave me the arm swat when I got too close. Okay, I get it, she is growing up, and at over 1 year she wants to figure it out on her own. I mean I can't blame the little peanut...I was the exact same way! we were in gym, and A is off exploring, giving me a second to look around at the other kids while keeping an eye on A who is now navigating the cheese wedge. It must have been "trial day" because there were about 3 moms and their kids in class who were definite new-bees. My guess is one of the boys was about 15 months, at least. He was walking well and had a full head of hair. Okay, so the hair reference is probably not a great indicator since A doesn't even have enough hair for a stick-on bow! So the boy, let's call him James, was tentatively walking around the gym space and looking at the different foam shapes, not really going on any of them. When the kids had been exploring for about 20 minutes, our teacher, called them all over to the bars to demonstrate the "skill of the week". How cute is that, A learns a new skill each week :)
So James watches a few kids do it and then it is his turn to push himself up on the bar while the teacher holds him securely. Now, you would have thought a giant, green monster had started to eat his toes with the screams this kid was letting out. I mean full screaming fit with tears. Wow!

I didn't think too much of it however, since some kids are much more timid than A and get upset when they have to try new things...but then it kept happening. When he was trying to do a forward roll, or go down the cheese wedge, or roll a ball, or even catch bubbles. After each episode his mom is getting more frantic and keeps mumbling something.

Alright, I will admit, I am a bit on the inquisitive side, so I made sure before the next activity to be right next to her and James...can you blame me, I just wanted to hear what she was saying? The last activity the kids were learning that day was straddle rolls. The teacher picked up A to use as a demonstrator (I swear A likes her teacher more than me some days!) and rolled away. After A finished her roll and is laughing on the cheese mat, the mom turns to me and asks when we started gym class. I tell her a few months ago, so when A was around 11 months old. She then sighs the saddest little sigh and sais she wished she had started James earlier because he was petrified of new activities, and wouldn't do any of them. He wouldn't play in playgroup, participate in story time, or (as I saw) do anything but cry in gym. Unfortunately, A decided to use that very moment to try out the balance beam, so our conversation was cut short. 

I have always put A in programs early, half because I want to have some fun activities to do with her during the day, and half because she is so nosey she loves to people watch. Maybe it has helped shape her into the independent little person she is today, or maybe it is just a great way to tire her out before nap time.

 But it made me there ever a too young?

Daily Mom

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

A Breakfast Thought

I was eating breakfast this morning, well actually it was my second breakfast but that is not quite as important, a grapefruit, when I was suddenly transported back to my parents kitchen 20 years earlier.

 For as long as I can remember growing up, my dad would always be in the kitchen every morning in a suit, when my sisters and I trudged down the stairs around 7:30am. Each morning we would sit at our spot on the breakfast bar and pass the box of Lucky Charms, Cream of Wheat, or corn muffin and spray butter between us, chewing slowly and rarely making any sort of audible conversation. My dad would first make our sandwiches for lunch, each containing the perfect crispy piece of lettuce, meat, cheese, mayo for one girl, none for the other, and mustard for the third, then wrap them air-tight in a piece of foil, always collecting both pieces at the top and folding them together to ensure the most perfectly square block. Then as the three of us slurped up the remainder of our milk, or at the last crumb of our muffin, my dad would pull a grapefruit out of the bottom fridge drawer and slice it perfectly in half placing half in a bowl, as the other half magically disappeared back into the fridge. I can still hear the sound of the Cutco knife slicing through the grapefruit to the glass cutting board that was build into my parents countertop. Not a horrible screeching noise, but one that would make you wince if you hadn't grown up hearing it every day. Then my dad would cut around each section of pulp, freeing it from the bitter membrane. Although this was a long task, my dad would take his time, never getting annoyed and rushing through the last few. Clearly I did not inherited patience from my dad. After each section was free he would cut around the outside before eating one piece at a time with the grapefruit spoon with the tiny teeth at the end. After he was finished, he would squeeze the grapefruit into his bowl and drink the juice. Apparently, even though I was still half asleep, I paid pretty close attention to him each morning.

So as I ate my grapefruit in my kitchen this morning, just as my dad had each morning, I began thinking about A and what memories would stick with her about us when she grew up. Would she remember all the mornings I got up and made her breakfast, or would the dog throwing up one morning have a lasting impact on her life? I thought a bunch about the little things my husband and I do each day, like have a cup of tea, and fight over what morning show is on, the Today Show or Sports Center, and how A always kisses her dog before her naptime, and the game she plays when I try to get her in her car seat and she puts her feet down and refuses to sit, or how she stops halfway up the stairs and sticks her face through the railing posts and calls daddy to come and scare her.

I can only hope her memories are filled with how much we love her, and annoy her, and would do anything for her.

Daily Mom

Friday, March 25, 2011

Something to think about...

I read the following quote today and it really made me think. I know how lucky we are, A is a dream kids (and trust me everyone lets us know), we are not in debt, our heath is great, and it doesn't look like we will lose our house anytime soon :) So just take a second and think about the quote, it just might change your whole day, too!

"There is always someone who would love to have your bad days."

Even when A is being a bit on the challenging side, she is still the sweetest and funniest kid we have! For those of you who don't know me, I am not playing favorites...she is our only kid :) So my goal for the week is to try to appreciate the little things: like her squealing in the car because she gets so excited when Daddy calls, or how she looks up at me with her big blue eyes when she falls down like I pushed her, or even when she opens the door to her little "house" to let the dog in, then slams it on our dog's face before she can get one paw inside and cracks up laughing.

No complaining for me this month over the silly little things, because I know we have it pretty good!

Daily Mom

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Wonderful One's (or maybe not)

So everyone has heard of Terrible Two's, but what about Wonderful One's. I mean think about it, they are starting to really become their own little human person, walking and talking, but recently we have seen the not so wonderful size.

Let's start with nap time. These used to be the highlight of my day...not that I don't love A to death, but hey everyone needs a break to pee and breath. But now, I spend almost all of naptime going in and out of her room collecting every item that used to be in her crib and is now on the floor, and relocating it back to her crib. I know what you are going to say...just don't put it back in her crib. Logical, I hear you. But she won't fall asleep without her paci and bunny...which are always the first two items out of her crib when she doesn't want to nap. You know are right! Tough love time. From this second on, I promise not to go back into her room and retrieve her items during nap time!

Good thing this blog is not in real time because she just started screaming so I went in and picked up all her things again :( Okay....from now on, tough love time! I am serious this time. (Please tell me this strategy really works!?!?)

So, on to my second point. How fun is walking! I love having this little drunk girl staggering all over our house, but in all honesty, it is terrifying! I probably have more bruises that A  does because I am constantly throwing my body across the room so she won't smash into the table, fireplace, counter, stairs, tv, bookshelf, and other deadly weapons I never knew I had in my house! Literally when she goes to bed at night, I get to take my first real deep breath of the day. We made it! One more day without a serious fall...well at least A didn't have one :)

I love all these new stages and adventures, but I now understand why all moms always say, "enjoy the stage they are in now, don't wish for it to go any faster". Here is to our Wonderful One's...stay away Terrible Two's!

Daily Mom

Monday, March 21, 2011

A whole new world

So, I have not been able to blog in a while...why you ask? Well, we officially have a walker! Thought we did before but now I realize how far off I was. My day now involves chasing around a tiny drunk little human. How do I have a break now to write, well I am sitting in the parking lot of the grocery store as A naps in her car seat :)

Anyway, my plight for today is simple...where do you draw the line on posting pictures, discussing kids, and sharing items about your life online? This is my current dilemma because I want to enter A in a contest in one of my favorite stores in Baltimore to be in their catalogue. However, it involves posting her picture on their website with her name! Obviously I am more protective of A since she is my first. I mean I dint even use her name here, I don't have a face book page, and I don't post her picture on line. I am sure by the third I will rent a billboard with their pictures to find a babysitter, but I am not there yet! So what to do!?! Do I emter A in the contest and go against everything I have said I won't do? And what about when she wins (of course she will, she is e cutest) then what do I do?

Well A just woke up so I can stop being a creep in the car and get some shopping done!

Daily mom

Monday, March 7, 2011

Trying my luck...

So, it turns out Chucky was just a bad horror movie, because I definitely have his sister downstairs, oh yes, still in the box in the kitchen with the dog every night, and I am still alive! So I have decided to test my luck...going to get my wisdom teeth out today! Yikes!

On a cuter note...we had to run to the grocery store today since our fridge looked like we had been robbed, and why is it that every cute old man always smiles at A and asks what aisle I found her in? It is almost as though men go from teenage pick-up lines..."hey, baby, I got my own car...wanta see it?" To college pick-up lines..."Can I pour you a beer from the keg?" To post college pick up lines..."I just got promoted today at work, want to help me celebrate?" To middle age man pick up line...."My divorce just went through, want to be the new misses?" To my favorite...the old man pick-up line..."What aisle did you get that cute little bundle in?" or another good one we hear a lot, "where's a big smile for grandpa?" First off Sir, you are not my kids grandpa, so let's not confuse her...and I am sure if you were more than three inches from her face and had a few more teeth, she might be inclined to smile for you!

Ahh...I do really love the grocery store in the morning!

Off to get tortured :(

Daily Mom

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Don't look behind you...

So, you might be wondering why I am blogging so late tonight. Granted it is only about 9:15pm but hey, I have a non-snoozable alarm clock that consistently goes off between 6am and 7am each morning, so fault me for wanting to get some sleep.

Well, let me tell you my reason for my unrest. We have this wonderful neighbor, actually, we really lucked out and have a bunch of really great neighbors. However, one in particular decided to drop A's birthday present off today...she couldn't make the she arrives tonight with this beautifully wrapped present with three balloons attached. How cute, A loves balloons! Anyways, back to the story, so the night gets away from us as it often does, and before we close up the downstairs for the night, we realize we haven't opened A's present. My husband takes off the balloons and hands it to me to do the honors (I know what a sweetie). As I am unwrapping the jungle themed paper, I see a familiar name on the outside of the box below. Madame Alexander. Yes, you heard me correctly, the Madame Alexander doll.

Now, this would not be a problem for most people, but I was hiding under the table when I was 6years old and watched Chucky along with my 15 year old sister and her friends. Needless to say I have had nightmares about dolls with the creepy eyes that open when you tilt them up, forever!

Okay, take a deep breath, how bad can this be? Chucky was a long time ago, and I am a mom now so I should be able to handle this...right? I smile, and pick the doll up from the box. As I am lifting her wax-like hands, she begins to come to a sitting position, smiling at me with only one open eye. You heard me right, only one eye opened. I screamed like a small child, and chucked the doll back in the box.

For those of you who have seen Chucky, you know the doll comes to life when everyone is sleeping and kills least that is how my 6 year old brain remembered the movie. Naturally, I want to protect my family, so as I head back to the family room to "fix" the box with some duck tape, my husband gives me the "really?" look. Fine. I put the tape down. But what am I supposed to do now! I wanted to go lock it in the car, but if I came down and saw it in the house in the morning, I might have a legit heart attack.

Needless to say, I am up here typing, as Miss Chucky is resting firmly in her box on the table, locked in the kitchen with the dog. Maybe, if I am lucky, the dog will get the best of her tonight.

Keep your fingers crossed, and sweet dreams.

Daily Mom

ps...if this is my last blog, it has been very fun.