a little t.l.c...

Last night Amalia slept in her own crib, in her own room. She did great and slept right through the night. The boys, however, did not. Jack was up three times and sneaked into our bed at some point before dawn. George woke up twice. Once to use the bathroom and another for, well, who knows really. They have never been consistently great sleepers but last night was extraordinarily awful. Pass the coffee.

My favorite BB cream and mineral foundation have been no match for the circles under my eyes the past few months. And, as I am rapidly approaching another ::coughmiddleagecough:: birthday, the fine lines wrinkles are making their presence known along with more than a few grey hairs. Super fun stuff. Each time I have more than 1.43 seconds to  look in the mirror, I think, "Really time to do something about this." Then a wrestling match ensues or a baby squawks to be fed and dreams of skin care regimes and hair salon bookings are once again forgotten.

I have three children under school age. My shopping trips with them are timed and orchestrated to the minute with lists by aisle. One misstep can and will result in one or more small person melting down in the checkout lane. Gone are the days of browsing the beauty aisles, reading package labels and fawning over lovely packaging. Mall trips? Ha! Only because our Target is attached to one. And by Target, I mean the diaper and grocery aisles.

When my Influenster TLC Vox Box arrived in June, I was thrilled. Every mom can use a little pampering. I pawed through the contents and my eyes went straight to the sleek little Avon package: Anew Reversalist Express Wrinkle Smoother. It had me at Express. I moved the box up to my bathroom counter and there it sat for awhile. One day when I managed more than a rushed moment for my makeup routine, I slid open the mirrored cover and gave the balm a try on my forehead. And, it worked.

No, really. It worked right away. As in, that moment. My deepening wrinkles were instantly smoothed out to a few fine lines. This is my forehead, right out of the shower with (before) only my BB cream and (after) the balm patted over the lines.

When a product actually works and takes next to zero time? Huge mom win. And, Avon. Who knew?

Disclaimer: I received this product for free for testing purposes. All opinions and commentary are my own.

brothers...

One of the things I hope most for as a parent is to raise these two boys to be loving, compassionate people - starting with their own relationship. They are so young and have a lifetime ahead to form friendships. The one person I hope that they will always turn to is their own sibling.

In the past few months, there have been more and more moments of sweetness between these brothers. Jack will take a book to George to read or, George will take Jack's hand to lead him to see something exciting. They play together sometimes and along side each other quite a bit. Oh, there are crazy making moments too, and plenty of them! That's also what brothers do, I suppose. But, I love seeing their relationship develop in front of me, hearing George say, "That's my brother Jack!" when we meet someone new or, when Jack walks over to George and pats the top of his head. Those are the moments that melt me. Over and over.

Stick together, my boys. That's what brothers are meant to do.

what i've come to realize: scrappy edition

Pretty doesn't matter.

My child will not care if the scrapbook layouts I create are contest winners, worthy of being published in a magazine, compiled over hours or days or liked by other crafters. Someday, he will look at them and say, "Thanks Mom, I was wondering what I was like back then and, now I know." He will know through the photos, matched with the anecdotes, dates and places that I sat down to record.

He will know that he is loved.
That his life is worthy of being documented.
That he matters.
That a family history matters.

The pages in his books will tell him so.

on music: the good and the very, very bad...

As pop culture is subjective to taste and personal preference, I don't comment on it too often.  Sure, I love Bon Jovi, Billy Joel and Adele but you may not and we can still be friends, right? (well, maybe...) But, I'm feeling compelled to say something now. 

For years, though I had a relatively short commute to work, I listened to audio books in the car rather than the radio.  I wasn't a big fan of the endless corny commercials and they were all that seemed to play for the 15 minute ride to and from work each day.  Audio books were a great solution and our library was well stocked with interesting titles.  I find that audio books require a certain amount of attention, however.  Now that my commutes are significantly longer (35+ min to Bronx and 90+ min to Brooklyn) and fraught with whizzing cabs, barreling box trucks and crazy commuters, my whole attention needs to be on the task at hand - defensive driving. 

So, I'm back to listening to the radio.

The thing about popular radio is that they play the same Top 25 or so songs, over and over all day long. Having an affinity for memorizing music easily I know most pop songs on the radio now by heart. There are some good ones, in my opinion, such as:

• Pink - "Perfect"...on your worst day, the hope is that everyone has someone in their life to tell them that they are perfect, no matter what
• The Script - "For the First Time"...such a beautiful commentary on life right now.  Times are hard but cling to the ones you love to see you through *sigh*
• Plain White Tees - "Rhythm of Love"...peppy, happy, lovey-dovey sweetness

And then there are the bad ones:

• Ke$ha- "Your Love is My Drug"- where she compares herself to a 'lovesick crackhead.'  Um, okay? She just has this whiny, nasally, awful voice that always makes me wonder who on earth thought it was a good idea to give her a contract. And the dollar sign?  Really?
• Mumford and Sons - "The Cave"...any song that includes lyrics such as 'tie me to a post' or 'noose around your neck' is not my cup of tea.  These guys are just trying way to hard to set themselves apart and the result? Not good
• Katy Perry - "E.T."...good concept for a movie, just ridiculous as a song

The, the worst of the worst (this is where I stand up on my soap box):

• Rihanna- "S&M"...sexually graphic, blatant and, frankly, disgusting lyrics that I won't type out here.  Feel free to Google them yourself if you haven't heard the song yet. But, I warned you...

As a single adult, I might not have thought twice about this last song.  Being a parent gives a completely different perspective. This one song makes me truly concerned about raising a child in our society.  What are we saying to our children when the most popular, mainstream radio station in the New York metro area is playing this trash hourly for any child to tune in?  I am no prude but, this?  Over the top.

While, yes, I do believe it is a parent's responsibility to filter media for children, how much can we shelter them?  Remember when Beyonce's "Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It)" came out and shortly thereafter a number of YouTube videos of little girls imitating the dance popped up, causing all sorts of commentary?  Can you imagine the storm that this will bring if the same happens?  Can't. even, go. there. 

Children are going to hear this song, catch the beat and start memorizing and singing back the words.  They will be asking you, "Mommy, why does she want to be gagged?"  OMG. 

How would you explain that one? 

Why should you have any need to explain (or artfully dodge) that question?

How do you plan on dealing with these issues that come up in a society that is getting more and more permissive and accepting of making the taboo part of the mainstream, accessible to our youngest and most vulnerable?  Discuss...

the age of understanding...

When asked, "Where do you put the keys?" he got up from the floor, keys in hand, and stood on his tip toes to try to put a key in the front door lock.

As he stood in the living room clearly looking around for something, I said, "You left Henry in the kitchen," (his favorite, for now, train), he walked right into the kitchen, picked Henry up from the spot he was left in front of the stove and happily went about his play.

If asked, "Would you like to eat?" he walks over to his highchair pointing and gesturing. 

Ask "Do you need a new diaper?" and he goes to stand by his bedroom door, waiting for us to catch up and take him to the changing table.

----------------------------

Brain as sponge doesn't quite seem to cover how fast he is mimicking, catching on, learning and understanding.  As a first time mom, I often wonder if I am doing enough to nurture his learning. As the first and, for now, only child he plays independently quite a bit.  I have no idea how much is too much.  Is there a limit?  We read books, play trains, blocks, kitchen and I narrate a good portion of the day in English and (my limited) Greek. But, am I actually supporting his development the way I should and how does one even know?

Outside of play dates, running into other kids at the park and the one day a week that he spends with his Nanny and her daughter, he doesn't have structured socialization time.  I'm looking at options for toddler classes, thinking that now might be a good time to get him used to being around groups of other children his age.  But, which to choose...a gym class to get out some of his ever-present energy? A parent/child music class for more of a mellow experience? *sigh*

He is bright, sweet and funny and I want to give him every opportunity to reach his full potential, whatever that may mean for him. So, any tips would be welcome...

First time mom also = over-thinking and second-guessing. A lot. Clearly.

boys and their toys...

Since we found out our first child would be a boy, my husband had a dream that his son would follow in his footsteps and play lacrosse.  When I was still pregnant, we found ourselves in a sports superstore one day and this conversation ensued:

Hubs: "Oh look!  A mini lacrosse set and it's on sale!  Let's get it."

Me: "Ummm, I'm still pregnant and we have no where to store it.  We are already storing the carseat, travel system, exersaucer, bouncy seat and other baby essentials we haven't even set up yet. Because, you know, I'm still pregnant."

Hubs: "But, he will USE this."

Me: When he's three or four? We don't have the space."

Hubs: "Harumph. Fine."

Fast forward to this past weekend.  My youngest cousin is in his senior year of college (holy cow does that make me feel old!!!) and we were able to travel to see one of his very last lacrosse games. We took G last year but, being just 4 months old, the game was less than intriguing for him.  This year was a different matter.  We arrived just at the start of the second quarter and he exclaimed loudly when he saw the big boys playing out on the field. He wanted to be part of that team in the worst way...

Because we are horribly mean responsible parents and would not allow him in the game, instead corraling him on the sidelines and the surrounding area, he eventually cooled his jets and amused himself by climbing the bleachers, flirting with the female spectators and trying to get to a bright yellow car in the parking lot. 

Then, with five minutes left in the game, he spotted the objects of his desire.  A perfect line of about forty lacrosse sticks on the sideline.  Lunge. Scream, Flail. Want.  Wrestling all 24.7 pounds of this determined toddler for five minutes of game time was no small feat.  When G sets his mind to something, that is that.  So when the game finally, blessedly ended (with my cousin's team winning!!!), we let him go...

VICTORY!!!!!

The pride on my husband's face was unforgettable.  Perhaps we should have gotten that junior set after all.

{nearly} wordless wednesday: missing you...

Baba was shaving with his electric razor one evening and George was very interested in both the buzzing gadget and the process.  I ran to grab the camera and caught this.

A perfect moment frozen in time. 

A foreshadow of a day far (but never far enough) in the future when father will pass along knowledge to his son. 

The logo on my husband's tee shirt reads "PRIDE".

Oh, yes.

My heart can hardly bear all of the love, tenderness and caring in this image.  Especially today as Mr. Boom has started a stretch of overnight work shifts and knowing we won't see too much of him during the next few weeks. Miss you already...

on kindness and compassion...

One day last week George and I made a Target run.  The closest to our home is in a multi-level center that also includes a movie theater, grocery store and a Barnes and Noble. The nice thing is that you can access all stores and levels through the interior elevators - perfect for this frigid winter. I've been taking G to this particular B&N since he started cruising because they have a large Thomas the Train table in the children's book section and (usually) have trains for children of shoppers to play on the tracks.

This day when we arrived at the table, George seemed to remember and made a run for it, bending down to say "hi" to the train faces on the sides of the table and running his chubby little fingers along the tracks.  But, there were no trains to be had.  Another little boy, a three year old, was playing with trains he had brought from home.  George occupied himself following the boy around, chattering and interested in every little movement.  The boy's nanny introduced herself and pulled a matchbox car from her pocket, offering it for George to borrow.  He saw the shiny little sedan and squealed with delight as he took it from the woman's outstretched hand and proceeded to the table.

That's when it happened.

The other boy saw George playing with his car, turned the most unnatural shade of deep red and began to scream.  Screamed so loud, so long and so frighteningly that other shoppers started to gather. 

George stood, rooted to his place, looking at the boy with a startled expression while I moved to stand at his side.  The boy's caretaker was able to soothe him after a couple of minutes (not moments, minutes).  As he gave my baby the side-eye and went back to playing with his trains, G approached him.  One step from the boy, George stretched out his little hand with the car in his palm, returning the toy.

In awe of my tiny son at that moment, I wondered how he knew to practice kindness and compassion at such a tender age. He knew the right thing to do in that moment, without suggestion, without coaxing.  I do believe that people start out innately good and this one moment restored my faith in that belief.  Reflecting on this today, I remembered this passage referring to "the Golden Rule":

"But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you." Luke 6:27-31

I live in hope that I am a positive role model and that my husband and I will raise George to be a good, kind man. What I know for sure is that, right now, he is the sweetest boy a Mama could dream.

to love it all...

One year, three weeks and four days of being a Mama.  The monthly letters I write are not just for George, not simply for a scrapbook but, a celebration of the little moments, milestones and obstacles of that fleeting four week period of time. Being a mother is so much more than I ever imagined.  It fills my heart with more love, more laughter, more patience and my life with a lot less sleep. 

My sweet, funny, smart as a whip toddler is not sleeping though the night.  Okay, I have to give him a little credit.  Last week he slept through twice. But, now back to not and worse then that, waking for the day before 4:00 am.  I am a firm believer that certain hours are only meant to be seen by people catching an early flight for a blissful vacation or parents of wee newborns.  I fit neither category at this time so, 4:00 am? Not.loving.it.

There are times when I wake to rock him back to sleep and after several failed attempts at placing him back in his crib I think that I simply can't do it another minute.  I can't continue not to see straight.  I can't continue with the exhaustion.  I can't wake my husband yet again for relief.  Our child is so, so, so good during the day that the bad nights sometimes feel like punishment for the bliss of our days.  It would be easy to wish that time away, to hope for him to be old enough to figure it out and sleep through on his own. 

And then I look down at the gentle curl of those long eyelashes against his flushed cheek.  The soft rise and fall of his tiny chest as he dozes.  The weight of his sweet body in my arms. With certainty, I know that moment will never be mine again.  That he is little for such a short time.  That far too soon, I won't be able to hold his weight and rock him to sleep.  And, I thank God and everything good I must have done in my life that gave me the privilege of calling this child mine. 

I came across a beautiful mantra today that I am adopting:

“be still, do not wish away, love it all, even those challenging moments you think you can not conquer.”

The sleepless nights will not last forever and he is this little for just a moment in time.

job description...

My mom sent this to me in an e-mail last week and I couldn't resist both laughing out loud and posting here.

PARENT - Job Description
POSITION: Mom, Mommy, Mama, Ma, Dad, Daddy, Dada, BaBa, Pa, Pop
JOB DESCRIPTION:
Long term, team players needed, for challenging, permanent work in an often chaotic environment. Candidates must possess excellent communication and organizational skills and be willing to work variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends and frequent 24 hour shifts on call. Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports tournaments in far away cities! Travel expenses not reimbursed. Extensive courier duties also required.

RESPONSIBILITIES:
The rest of your life. Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs $5. Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly. Also, must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule and be able to go from zero to 60 mph in three seconds flat in case, this time, the screams from the backyard are not someone just crying wolf. Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets and stuck zippers. Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects. Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks. Must be a willing to be indispensable one minute, an embarrassment the next. Must handle assembly and product safety testing of a half million cheap, plastic toys, and battery operated devices. Must always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst. Must assume final, complete accountability for the quality of the end product. Responsibilities also include floor maintenance and janitorial work throughout the facility.

POSSIBILITY FOR ADVANCEMENT & PROMOTION:
None. Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills, so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you

PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE:
None required unfortunately. On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.

WAGES AND COMPENSATION:
Get this! You pay them! Offering frequent raises and bonuses. A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that college will help them become financially independent. When you die, you give them whatever is left. The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more.

BENEFITS:
While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and no stock options are offered; this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth, unconditional love, and free hugs and kisses for life if you play your cards right.

what makes my heart melt...

sharing the love or, um...codes

We are loyal Pampers users. In almost three months, we've have only a few leaky diapers and, truthfully, all but one or two were due to "user error" (don't make me specify. If you are a Pampers fan and don't know about their Gifts To Grow program, I'd suggest taking a look at their site. Each of their products has a code and, after a while, they all add up to be redeemed for FREE toys, photos, gift cards, etc. One of the best pats of this? Shipping on all of the redeemable items is also FREE.

I had a few minutes of internet time today, went on a search for current codes online and found all of these. They worked for me and, being the good sharer my mom raised me to be, I'm posting them here:

GTGPLAY3USA2010
GTGPLAY1USA2010
MARFACEBOOK2010
GTGTEAMUSA2010
GTGPLAY2USA2010
WELCOMEBONUS089
WELCOME2GTG0809
OHAMANDAAWGTG08
THRIFTYMOMMYGTG
GROWWITHVILLAGE
XKCMYXFVD96VXVK
welcome2village
GRATUIT89102009
JUSTBECAUSE2009
JOINTHEFUNGTG09
STARTEARNINGNOW

Enjoy and happy diapering :-)

playing catch up (photos included)...

At about 6 weeks, G started smiling at us here and there. Now, at nearly 2 months he is smiling every day and directly in response to our silliness, looking at the ceiling fans or simply seeing us first thing in the morning. It's one of the most gratifying parts of parenthood right now. G was gracious enough to (finally) allow me to capture a full on cheek dimpled smile last week. *melt*

Long before having children was ever a reality for me, I knew that I would do everything I could to breastfeed my children. I feel that it is one of the very best things that I can do for George in his early life and have been very blessed that my body has worked with me in this plan and that I have an easy time feeding him. But, after eight weeks of exclusive breastfeeding it was time to start pumping, get him used to once daily bottle and allow Mr. Boom to have a chance to feed G. Yesterday was the first bottle feed - such a sweet moment between father and son:

Since his homecoming, G has slept nights in our room in a moses basket next to my side of the bed. As new parents, co-sleeping has worked out beautifully but, G is rapidly growing and will soon be to long for his first little bed and will be ready for the crib. So, today, he made his first transition - a crib nap. With the help of his rainforest soother, G napped for 45 minutes in his very own room with Yia-Yia's blanket tucked securely around him.

Nearly two months in, I am happier than ever. Becoming a mom is far better, harder and more rewarding than I could have imagined.

the one where i'm a bad mom...

I'm a brand new mom. I'd confess that to anyone and readily admit I'm nowhere near close to having all of the answers. Some days I look at this tiny little being that has taken charge of our home and am, quite frankly, stumped as to how to best care for him. Sure, I know the basics and I think I'm doing a pretty good job of not screwing him up so far (I really am trying, George!). But, I also know that part of this whole parenting this is making mistakes, learning from them and moving on - asking for forgiveness all the way. I expect to get lots of unsolicited advice from family and friends and to make choices about taking or leaving that same advice.

What I did not expect - and really should have - was to be criticized by stranger moms in public. So, what parenting crime did I commit? Read on...

G and I took a quick trip to Target this morning. I had a few things to pick up and, frankly, needed to get out of the house to see the world and walk around a bit. Running on borrowed time between nursing sessions, I was armed with a list and opted to hit the not-as-nice Target because it offers garage parking, exposing G to less of the freezing air. The infant carrier sits perfectly in the front/top of the cart, closest to me and up high enough to discourage strangers from touching, while allowing great eye contact between mom and baby. This is how we shop because the stroller just doesn't make sense in this situation. I could shop the aisles of Target in my sleep so had everything on the list in record time while G happily cooed at me and the stroller toys dangling from the handle of his infant carrier.

So far so good, right?

As I walked toward the registers, scoping out the shortest line, another mom and her kids approached from the opposite end. Mom was in the center pushing an infant stroller. Along one side walked what looked to be a 5 year old struggling with a full shopping basket. On her other side was a smaller child, maybe three years, juggling several items in her arms. As we passed each other she said to the children, while gesturing to my cart, "See? I could put the carseat like that too, but it just doesn't feel safe and good moms keep their kids safe."

Are you kidding me, lady?

I shot her a dirty look (sue me) and then noticed something. Around and over her infant carrier containing her newborn was a wind break fashioned from...wait for it...a clear plastic bag that, in red, was marked "Keep away from children - suffocation hazard."