What Transpired at Mommies Night Out

This week I was fortunate enough to get a mommies night out.  It also happened to be one of my friends very first mommy night out.  So, of course we celebrated by eating too much, drinking too much and staying out far to late for a lactating mommy.   (Btw, a dirty martini is 10 points.  I come to find out after the fact, ugh.  Oh, but it was so worth it)  Anywho, while we were chatting it up and driving our waitress crazy we started to talk about mommy things (Of course) even though we said we wouldn't (Of course).  And Volia!  The next blog was written!

Five lies about being a new mom:

1. Crying- and I'm not talking about the baby.  I don't know about you but it seems to be a pretty common theme that mom's, after giving birth, lose there friggen minds!  I get that we are dumping hormones faster then Dane Cook drops F bombs, but I swear all of our hormones come out our eyeballs!  It was pretty terrible with my daughter.  (I think your first is always the hardest.) Every day at around 5pm I would just spontaneously break into sobs.  It didn't matter if I was reading, watching tv, nursing or in the middle of a sentence, I would just leak like a faucet.  It was so persistent that my husband would keep time with my cry-fest's.

Like this Crazy Crying

2. Fear of Everything- Again, I'm sure this has to do with the dumping hormones but really?  I worried about everything and anything.  I worried about getting in a car accident.  What if someone broke into my house? How would I protect my baby?  And if real life scenarios wasn't good enough I would make up ones that were impossible.  What if I was on the titanic?  What if earth collided with an astroid?  What if my mother-in-law stayed for a week?  Terrible.

What do you do if this happens?

3. Sex- They told you that you had to wait 6 weeks with a vaginal delivery.  Well, if you had an episiotomy, a rip, a tear or anything that involved stitches expect that to be a lot longer.  I mean, you can try.  Lord knows I did.  But it won't be the same.  Forget it being enjoyable, seriously, you're ahead of the game if it isn't down right painful.  (I'm starting to wonder if I got an extra stitch in the process)  With my daughter I had an episiotomy and a tear.  I don't actually know how bad it was but I imagine it was pretty ugly when the night nurse came in, looked at my chart, made a grimace face and said "oh you poor thing." Shudder*

4. Mothering Coming Naturally- It's moments like this that I wished I had taken up knitting...so I could stab the next person to say this through the eye and swirl their brain around.  (ok, that might be a little graphic)  Wtf?  I mean really?  When I carried my kids for 9 months it was in the womb!  Not in my arms where we had full on conversations on what to expect and their likes and dislikes.  The only thing I was certain of when my kids were born was that I didn't know anything about them.  So don't tell me that I'll know when they cry what they want.  Hell, half the time when I cry I don't know what I want.

5. Sleeping-  I feel like all of the above would be curbed a bit if we could just get 8, (lol) 6, God, I'd be happy with 4 hours of sleep in a row.  Because seriously, isn't sex better when you're not so exhausted that you're just waiting for it to be over*?  I guess this one isn't really a lie since everyone and their mom curses you with the same statement over and over again when your little miracle is causing even your elbows to swell: "Sleep now, because you're not going to get it once the baby is born."  First of all, let me just say, Shut Up!  Look at me?  If I sunbath at the beach, PETA will be called because people will think a whale has beached itself.  Do I look like I'm getting sleep now?  How would you sleep if as soon as you sat down it's the opening night of Cirque Du Soliel in your abdomen? Stupid.  What they fail to tell you is what complete and utter exhaustion really awaits you.  Not as soon as you get home from the hospital, (because you're still so hyped up on adrenaline) but the days and weeks and months of no sleep.  Not sleeping does some really weird things to you.  One of my friends told me that she was afraid to tell her psychiatrist husband about her anxiety of being a new mom (see number 2) not just because she didn't want him to worry about her mothering skills but because he had the power to bake-rake her. (which is hilarious in itself) Then after thinking about it she says, "But then I could get a full nights sleep, have meals made and brought to me.  Plus, I won't have to clean or change a poopy diaper."  Oh yes, I have been there.

what we think of when we hear co-sleeping
Ps: how the heck did they get a blond baby?

Actuality 

The truth is no one can prepare you for mother-hood but at the same time it would be really nice to have a heads up!  I think a lot of new moms would feel a whole lot better if in their "preparing for baby" classes they didn't just tell you how to put a diaper on a doll (because that's really accurate to the real thing) but maybe if they let you know what to expect from your body.  I think we would feel a little less alone when it's the middle of the night, we're crying while nursing because we're afraid that the Mayna calendar is right and the world is going to end and we can't even enjoy it by having frightened-it's-the-end-of-the-world-crazy-sex!  Oh well, at least we'll get to sleep.

Antenella


(Disclaimer:  If my husband is reading this, I never feel that way. I'm always ready for your hot sexy body!  Bring it on baby!  Just not tonight, I'm exhausted)

Am I Pretty?

This past week I've noticed that there has been a lot of conversation about the detrimental effects of telling your daughter she is pretty.  Apparently, there have been a lot of specialists coming to the conclusion that if we tell our daughters or little girls in general, that they are pretty, they will never identify themselves with anything other then their looks.  When approaching a little girl, the first thing out of your mouth should be a greeting and not an immediate commentary on how cute her clothes, hair or shoes are. To express the beauty in a little girl as being more important then say, her reading abilities is a blatant undermining of her intelligence and you should be ashamed of yourself in doing so.  Whatever happened to women's lib?

I say this with a little tongue in cheek because I personally think this is the most moronic thing I have ever heard coming out of the parenting world...so far.  (And they have come up with some doosies)  Let me start off by saying that I do understand, to an extent, what these specialist are trying to say.  They are basically trying to tell us as parents in a very confusing way that we need to instill in our daughters the importance of things other then our looks.  That we shouldn't define ourselves only by the way we style our hair or the clothes that we wear.  What happens if we have get a bad hair cut or can't afford the newest fashions?  Do these things take away from our worth as women?  Of course not, but if that is all we have been taught to think of as important and we can't identify ourselves with say our personality, or hobbies or dare I say, our relationship with God then we may crumble when we get a killer pimple in the middle of our precious visage.  I get that...

But really?

To not tell our daughters they are beautiful would be doing them a much greater disservice.  Let me start with the basics.  Say I'm a women (which I am) and I wanted to have other women friends (which I do)  what would be the best way to ingratiate myself to said women?  To compliment them!  Obviously.  Who doesn't like a person who says something nice about you?  And how many times have you started a conversation with a complete stranger by saying "oh my gosh!  I love your ______ .  Where did you get them?"  Fill in the blank.  Shoes, purse, dress, shirt, hair...the list goes on.  And what is the reaction you get?  I huge smile, a look of gratitude and a freely given location and price of said item.  You not only made her day but you also found a great deal in the process!  Win-win, I say and why?

Because we as women are built to want to be pretty!  And not just pretty, but to be noticed!  I feel that since I've become a mother I want even more to be pretty.  I want to be pretty for my kids, for my husband, for myself.  And not because I have some unhealthy idea of only identifying myself with my looks but because I believe that my family deserves a stunning mother and wife.  They are worth being beautiful for.  And I'm not talking hair and makeup.  Because, lets be honest, who's got time for that crap.  I want to be happy.  Audrey Hepburn has been quoted in saying that:  "The happiest girls are the prettiest girls" and it's the truth!

More of This

Less of This

Maybe I feel so strongly about this because as a child no one ever stopped me to tell me I was pretty.  My younger sister was the beautiful one and she got it all the time.  Imagine going through most of your life where people only noticed you because you paled in comparison to some one else.  Sad right?  Well it would have been except for the fact that both my parents would continually tell me I was beautiful.  They said I had the most beautiful smile, my hair was so long and shinny, my eyes sparkled when I talked.  I don't think there was a day that went by that I wasn't told that I was pretty by either my mom or my dad.  And I am forever grateful to them for it.

There was a long time where I didn't believe I was pretty at all.  I was never someone any one ever wanted to date or even had an interest in.  When it was really bad I was barked at.  (Yeah, like a dog)  But I always came home to a loving family that would replenish me up with words of beauty so that I would be able to make it another day.

We as women want to be pretty!  It's not something we learn, it's something we're born with.  And there is nothing wrong with that!  It is the way we were wired.  It's the way God wanted us to be.  God loves beauty, so he made women and am not going to be guilted into taking that away from my daughter just because some pediatric psychotics specialists decided it was causing teen girls to get nose rings or tattoos. We've become so concerned with making sure that our daughters are something other then beautiful that we've taken it away from them all together.  Instead we should be teaching them what beauty is and how it is defined.

As a parent of a daughter that is my job.  Beauty is not make up, clothes or hair it is the way her skin shimmers in the ocean or the way the sun catches her eyes or the way she looks when she sings to herself.  That is beauty!  When I see the truth of who she really is.  When I get a glimpse of the holiness inside of her.  It is when she is so confident in our acceptance and love for her that she positively glows!  That is what we should be telling our daughters.  Not that their motor skills are impressive, or her athletics are good but that they are the most beautiful things we have ever laid our eyes on!  

More of This

Less of This

And why should we tell them this?  Because that's what they want to hear!  And if we don't tell them, then someone else will and that may lead to even bigger problems. Women will devote themselves to those that feed this simple desire.  Our daughters want to be told they're pretty, noticed, special and I ask you, what's wrong with that?

Antenella

Mommy Fail

Some days are just amazing!  Some days I marvel at the fact that every one is getting along.  Both my kids are sleeping through the night, playing well with each other, eating all their veggies and even take simultaneous naps.  Some days are just magical and all I can think is:  "I'm doing it! I'm parenting!  My kids are happy and adjusted and I am just loving life!" Some times this happens for days at a time.  Some times.  This time?  Not so much.

It has been a trying couple of weeks to say the least.  My son, who has the lungs of Siryn, has reached new highs with his persistent screaming.  Throw in the fact that his separation anxiety has hit a fever pitch and couple that with the knowledge that my 3 year old has unwillingly given up her pacifiers, it's safe to say that it has been very loud and emotional in my house.  When it gets like this I start to have a hard time focusing, listening, remembering things.  I think it's because my mind starts to escape inward (I'm assuming it's my bodies natural defense to protect from going insane from the constant screaming.) and it tends to ignore things that once seemed important.  Like play dates or doctors appointments.  I didn't realize how hard it was really hitting me until I had my very first real "mommy fail".

Don't get me wrong, I've had some pretty awesome "mommy fails" before this one.  But this one made me feel like a terrible parent...more so then usual.

The other day my daughter had been whining for what seemed like days and refusing to eat or sleep.  So she had just been a dream.  And when I say dream, I mean the scary kind.  And this one particular morning she asked for milk with her breakfast. (Which she wasn't going to eat anyway)  So I thought, 'well, at least she'll get some milk in her.'  I poured her a glass.  She immediately starts whining "no no, I don't want it."  Ugh!  She said the same thing after she specifically asked for waffles with syrup and before I even laid the plate in front of her.

Anyway, she starts whining and throwing a fit.  So I told her she couldn't have a piece of chocolate until she drank her milk.  The least she could do was drink her milk.  So she stiffens up, picks up her glass and downs most of it.  Then promptly says "yuck!"  Everything is yuck to a 3 year old.

me- "What's yuck, honey?"
princess- "Milk"
me- "Milk isn't yucky! It's good for your bones and helps you play."
princess- "No, yucky."
me- "Stop being silly.  It's not yucky."
princess- "No mommy, milk yucky."
me-"O.k.  Now you're just trying to have an argument with me."

Do you see where we're going with this?  At this point my husband goes over to see if he can defuse the situation because he can see the "hulk smash" creeping up into my face.  Next thing you know he's in an outrage.  "Did you smell this milk?"

You guessed it.  I had given the poor thing sour milk... I don't think the guilt could be any worse.  And why do these things always happen when my husband is home?  I feel like he already thinks my parenting style is not to his liking and then some thing like this happens which just proves him right.  And I hate when he's right...and he's always friggin right!

I ended up giving her grip water and all the chocolate she could handle since I was trying to pacify my very guilty conscious.  One thing I really wanted to be was a mom with no regrets and I feel like the longer I have children the harder it is to be that way.  I feel like every decision I make would be much better informed if I could time travel.  The only time I ever truly feel like I know what I'm doing is when the moment is over and I'm looking back.

Some times I just feel like I'm failing.  Failing my kids, failing myself.  I always thought I would be better.  I shared this terrible incident with my pediatrician and she gave me some very encouraging words:

"Please!  You are not a bad mom.   You are definitely not the first parent to tell me this story.  This may be the first time you feed your kid spoiled milk but it probably won't be the last.  So don't stress over silly mistakes that don't make a lick of difference to your kids.  They won't even remember!  She's not going to hate you or have some deep seeded aversion to dairy products.  She probably didn't even get a tummy ache.  So forget it!"

This made me realize two things.  1)  She was right!  All I can do is love my kids to the best of my ability and pray that God will do the rest.  And Lord knows I love them and I'm pretty sure he's sick of my begging him to take care of them.  Isn't everything else just water under the bridge or spilt milk? (pun totally intended) My kids are well adjusted, well taken care of, and completely confident in the knowledge of my love for them.  And isn't that all that matters?

and 2) Check the expiration date...


Antenella

Welcome back to Middle-School. You're still not Popular

Becoming a mom has been the most amazing, joyful and fulfilling time of my life.  It has also been the most difficult, isolating and humbling time of my life.  I didn't really have a lot of expectations when it came to having kids.  I knew it would be wonderful.  I knew I would love them unconditionally.  I knew that there were probably going to be days were I thought I was going to lose my mind.  I knew these things to be true because many seasoned parents told me so.  What they failed to mention was the many philosophies of parenting and how viciously people will hold their truths to be the only proper way of raising children.

I wasn't prepared to deal with the same self-concious feeling I got in middle school.  The feeling of being judged on my clothes, my hair, the way I laughed or walked or even my choice of television shows.  I thought this was all in the past.  I managed to muddle through middle-school and high-school to emerge as a pretty confident butterfly throughout my college and young adult years...  Then I had kids.  That's  when the judging started all over again.  Only this time people are judging me on the one thing I want so desperately to be good at.  Being a good mom.

It wasn't so bad with my daughter.  Probably because she was the angel of all newborns.  She nursed great and sleep through the night in the first three weeks.  I could take her shopping, out to lunch with friends, go to the beach and all I would get is ooh's and ahh's of how beautiful she was.  Her hair, her eyes and "oh what a good baby!"  I loved going out, even to target.  (And let's be honest.  What mom doesn't love target?)  Those where the days I could still take a shower and do my hair.  Sigh.

Then I had my son...

Let's just say my son is not so even keel as my daughter was.  And lets also assume that my daughter is no longer that sweet cherubim of a new born baby and is now old enough to know what she wants and is willing to throw a rock star fit in order to get it.  Let the judgment commence!

If you're a mom you can probably relate to this;  let's set the stage.

Scene I:
Int. Random commercial shopping chain:

It's a blustery rainy day on the outskirts of a boring no mans land called Mommyland.  Enters mommy who has be stuck in the house with her two children whom which are surly and downright miserable.  The smallest child starts crying.  A scream pierces the once quite air.  The fellow customers jump in shock to find out where the inevitably injured child is located.  They see a washed out woman.  Her hair hasn't been brushed and her cloths have drool stains on each shoulder.  She is trying to get milk and eggs into her cart with out falling over from exhaustion.  The onlookers start to get nervous from the constant crying.

Now I have one of two choices.  I can either reprimand my irritated child or I can ignore him.  Either one will get a "if looks could kill" reaction.  Let us go through this exercise and try each of our options together, shall we? Option 1: Spanking*. (ie reprimanding)  Now, when I say spank I'm talking a tap.  (I'm more into the humiliation of it then the actual physical pain.  It's all about crushing they're little defiant soul when it comes to being reprimand, am I right?) I use this option pretty often, I gotta be honest.  One time I used it on my daughter and I got an audible gasp from the lady next to me.

I didn't even look at her.  I didn't want to get the lecture of how terrible I am to my children and that she has it in her right mind to call child services and all that crap.  Some people don't subscribe to that kind of parenting, I get that.  But I do, so BACK OFF!

Option 2:  Ignoring them.  This is a true story.  I'm in the mall (I hate the mall) during Christmas (especially during christmas) and my kids are starving.  So, I take them to the food court.  My son starts wailing.  (He's a wailer) I'm in line trying to get noodles for me and the kids and "the boy" is just losing it in his stroller.  I can either pick him up and try to carry him, the stroller, the food and my daughter over to the nearest table all the while he will be flailing like Kim Kardashian trying to spin her sham of a wedding OR I can ignore him.  So that's what I did...  They guy behind me says, making sure it's loud enough so I could hear.  "Why would you let your child scream like that?"

Hulk-Smash.

Damed if you do damed if you don't.  The thing that people fail to realize is that just because you've seen the way I interact with my kid for 15 seconds doesn't mean you know what we've been doing for the past 15 hours, or days, or weeks or (one day I'd like to say) years.  You, random stranger; weren't there for the sleepless nights when I slept on my daughters floor when she was sick because she would wake up scared.  Or the times that I sit on the floor and wrestle my son until he hurts from laughing.

They don't see the times that you are feeding them only healthy foods days in a row, or busting your butt in the kitchen while they sleep because you thought it would be fun to wake them with cookies. Or watching Elmo for the hundredth time because they want you to sit with them.  Or the time you've tried desperately to learn all the lyrics to the newest disney movie because your daughter wants you to sing it in the car.  Or the hours of play dough, the days at the pool, playing in the park.  Or the endless game of hide and seek.  The nights where all you want to do is hold them till morning because they are just so tiny and precious in your arms as they sleep and all you can think of is how fleeting these moments are.

So no,  random judgmental stranger, that probably doesn't even have any kids or your kids are so bitter against your lack of loving on them that they don't visit you in your Florida retirement home because they have kids and they don't need any more of your crap; no, I am not a perfect parent.  But guess what!  I know that and I don't need you of all people to tell me.  So, as nice as I can put it...

BACK OFF!

Antenella


*I am a firm believer in spanking mostly because it works for me and my kids.  If you don't believe in spanking then don't do it.  So don't get mad at me because I do.  I get enough hate mail as it is, Judgey McJudger:)

I Really do Love my Husband

If you are lucky enough you have an awesome Commander & Chief* as I do, smart, loyal, makes you feel beautiful when you're in your fat pants; you probably don't have much to complain about.  Unless, of course; your me.  Because what is more fun then talking about myself?  That's right!  Complaining!

So sometimes my wonderful husband who is quite a catch.  Faithful, loyal, a wonderful father to my children, my lover, my best friend, just makes me want to shoot my face off!  It's amazing to me the kind of things that come out of his mouth.  Especially when I know none of it is supposed to upset me.  Yet, some of the things he says sends me into immediate "Hulk smash!" mode. But his ignorance I am so assured of that I'm hesitant to even talk about this in the fear that he will see it (which he undoubtably will) and be hurt... 

Oh well!

Top 10 things my husband says that makes me what to punch him in the neck:

10.  I'll make breakfast! -I know your thinking that I should be thanking my lucky stars that my husband wants to cook.  And normally, I do.  But it seem that he usually makes this declaration at around the same time the kids needed to eat and hour ago.  And the C&C* is just like any man who thinks multitasking is a dirty word. First he works on eggs and only eggs.  Then he moves on to toast. (yes, this means he waits for the toast to pop out of the toaster before moving on)  Then he cuts up fruit.  By this time the kids are sitting in their chairs staring at him with crying eyes asking, why?  (side note: He then prides himself of how well they eat when he cooks.  It must be the way he flips the eggs...)

9.  Oh!  The kids got something one my shirt.  Ugh, I swear I can't keep any of my clothes clean! - Meanwhile, I have had a permanent food stains on each of my shoulders for three years.  

8. That's too much in and out of the car. - What is it with men refusing to get in and out of the car more then twice?  And then they say, "Well, with the kids it's just such a pain!"  Yes.  Yes, it is.  But how exactly do you think I do everything?  The shopping, the groceries, mailing packages, clothing returned for a different size, library books returned, Publix, Target, Home Depot, days we have classes, days I need gas, days I need milk and eggs, but just milk and eggs?  Aaaaand, my kids and I do it alone.  Your welcome. 

7. I'm not hungry. -Do you know how hard it is to get my kids to eat?  All they need is an excuse.  After busting my butt in the kitchen for an hour, (because Rachael Ray doesn't have to fight with a sobbing toddler while she's cooking her 30 minute meals)  he comes through the door and says this.  I don't care that your boss took you out for some grandiose lunch!  You are sitting down and eating the fish sticks I heated up for you just like the rest of us!

6. I'm going to shower. -What the H E double hockey sticks do men do in the bathroom?  This is an immediate time eating red flag for me because when the C&C tells me he's gonna take a quick shower, that's really code for 40 minutes of sitting on the throne with his iPhone and then 40 minutes of shower time.  While I still have to take a prison shower to make up for lost time.

5. Can you watch him?- "the boy" still doesn't walk.  (He's 13 months old... WTH?)  So what this really means is "Can you hold him?"  My husband must feel he is only parenting if he is holding a child.  If it's not one it's the other and I know she can walk.  But if I start holding him, then he'll always want me to hold him.  And while the longest the Commander will have to do that is a couple of hours before bed, I have a good 16 hours before that time comes.  So, no. I can't hold him. 

4. Do we really need that? -I hate this one!  Especially going grocery shopping.  Because, do you really need anything?  Air? yes.  Clothes? yes.  Shelter? yes. Chocolate covered raisins? probably not.

3. I got it. -This one is hard to explain because it only comes out when I try to help.  "The princess" has a way of getting what she want's out of the Commander.  So when I see that she is pulling the manipulation card I give her the smack down!  But do I get a thank you?  No.  I get a quick, pursed lip, "I got it."  But the only reason I step in is because, no.  You don't got it.  Unless you think giving her a piece of chocolate is a good reinforcement for hitting her brother in the face with a Dora doll.

2. Will you do something about that whining?- look here buddy.  You've been home for 15 minutes.  I've been dealing with this for 15 hours!

and my all time favorite!...

1.  I'm tired... -Ok, really?  This doesn't bother me as much as it used to.  But imagine being up every two hours to have someone literally suck the life out of you for 20-40 minutes.  Then imagine you just fall asleep in time for it to happen all over again.  And then imagine it's for days and months on end.  Then imagine that you are exercising a lot, not because you want to lose weight, oh no.  Because that never works.  But because you're training for a half marathon just because you have to do something stupid so you can feel yourself again.  And then imagine that you're getting up on a Saturday at five in the morning to run for over an hour, just to come back home in time to get everyone up and dressed and fed and watered because they've all been laying in bed waiting for you to get back since you left.  Then imagine that after the dishes are cleaned the kids wiped down, the floor is swept up, you still haven't had a moment to shower or take off your shoes your husband says to you.  "I'm wiped"  But he's serious... Yeah, guaranteed "Hulk-smash".

I'm a terrible person for this, aren't I?

Antenella