Philly Moms

Shark Attack on the Main Line

In the shark infested waters of a little day care center in the heart of the Main Line, you will find my son being circled by these creatures two days a week.   He is a gentle soul and his sweet skin must attract the sharp teeth from several little monsters classmates, because he has repeatedly come home with bite marks.  However, this past Thursday was by far the worst attack.   He had a bite mark so big and bruised, you could literally see how the biter would not let go and pulled my son's skin with his/her teeth.  And because that was not bad enough, he had a smaller bite mark on his other arm.   When I picked him up, there was an "incident report" waiting for me.   It was for the large, bruised bite mark and I found no mention of the little one.   After speaking with his teachers, I found out they not only had no idea how the horrific bite mark happened, they had no idea the smaller one existed.  WHAT?  HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW?  Two of the many questions I began to ask not only them, but the owner of the center.  

Apparently, my son did not cry, which would bring their attention to the situation.   The one teacher just happened to see the large mark on his forearm during the day and then needed to fill out the report.   Of course, she noticed it as the broken blood vessels are as purple as Barney.   I know my son and I know he would have cried, but he does not cry out.  He sits and silently gets upsets with tears running down his face when he gets hurt.   And the thought of him being upset, KILLS ME!  She also stated it was the "worst bite mark she had ever seen", fueling my already borderline out of control anger.   I simply explain to them that this can not happen again.   None of it!  Not the large bites, small nibbles, licks to taste his sweet skin.   Its over.  The whole using my son as a teething ring or stress reliever.   He has come home with 5 too many bite marks over the last several months and my patience and understanding of "this is the age where some children bite" has come to an end.   After receiving validation that I was not overreacting and his teachers understood that I do not care if they have to chain their little repeat offending biters to their hip, I moved on to the owner who just happened to be in her office as I was headed out the door.

Step Away from the Gavel

If you haven't read Lindsay's post titled The Non-Mom Judgment - How Pink & Princesses are Bringing Down Feminism, please do. She wrote a great post and fabulous rebuttal to Gender Norms Start In The Womb.

As I read the it, I was already feeling frustrated about the judgments I face every week.  If it's not from a family member, it's an actual friend or absolute stranger.  By no means am I perfect and never pass judgment, but find myself feeling very angry when others judge mothers for absolute ridiculous reason. Case in point -- I was in a store a few weeks back and as I was waiting in line to checkout, there was a mom next to me with her toddler daughter.   Her daughter began to cry and whine, sounding similar to my son when he has just had enough with shopping.  The mother attempted to calmly soothe her, but her little one was at a point of no return.   Ah, yes, I know exactly how this mother must have felt.  So, I just smiled at her and her little one.   However, others in the store did not have the same reaction.   The woman at the counter actually began to say how awful it was that this woman had her child out.   And stated it was "really a bad situation", because the toddler had taken her shoe off in protest.   Um, if that's a bad situation to this woman, than wait until she gets a hold of my little guy.   Or perhaps, she has never experienced an actual bad situation.  Her entire attitude and judgmental behavior truly upset me!

Under the Table

Here I was about to finish a post regarding my desire to attend the flower show every year, but I never end up going, when suddenly, a little hand reached up and touched me. I looked to my side and there was my little man just wanting to hang out with his mama. I stopped typing immediately and grabbed his hand letting him lead me to where ever he decided he wanted to go. We marched from room to room, chanting "march, march, march". We held hands and sang "ring around the rosy" as we moved in a circle. 

I realized at that moment I do not spend enough time playing with him. Sure, we are together almost everyday, all day long. Sure, I feed him, change him, sing to him, rock him, etc... But I do not truly play with him as much as I should. I do not get down on his level and do exactly what he thinks is fun nearly enough. Fun to my little man is marching, singing, wrestling with the dog, and building tall towers only to knock them down, but quickly rebuild them again. I let the laundry, my work, the darn iphone, the dishes, the blog, the dog hair all distract me from playing with him until he wants to stop not until the dryer alarm goes off.  

Do I look fat in this...

I have never been totally content with my body.  However, I never thought I was overweight, just not well proportioned.  I have short legs, a long torso, no boobs, linebacker-like broad shoulders, and so on.  Basically, I have my father's body and mom-mom's height.  I was in fairly good shape as a teenager.  I ran frequently and was active in sports.  In my early twenties, I stopped running and worked out infrequently, but I did not gain weight.  I ate what ever I wanted and never worried about how it was affecting my shape (let alone my health).  Then I turned twenty-six and the scale started to creep up, so I started to move.   I worked out and maintained a healthy weight.   Again, I was not totally content with my figure, but there is really nothing one can do about short legs!

Oh boy, I was in for a reality check when I became pregnant with my son.  I was sick throughout my first trimester.   The nausea was awful, but pasta and bread made me feel so much better.  We all know what pasta and lots of bread can do to your rear.  I gained 10 pounds in the first two months!  I miscarried with my first pregnancy and bleed throughout the first few months of this one, so I was benched from any activity.  Needless to say, I started packing on the pounds quickly.  As I ended my third trimester, I realized I gained 55 pounds throughout the forty weeks I was pregnant.  I believe 45 of them were attached to my butt!  

Hitting Snooze on My Biological Clock

My little man is turning eighteen months in a week.   He is our first born and we always wanted, at least, three children.  I was a "lonely only", so I would even go for four children to avoid an odd man out.  I am turning thirty-four in the Spring, so I am definitely feeling the pressure to "get on with it" as my grandfather would say.  We lost our first baby when I was seven and a half weeks pregnant, so the thought of possibly having another miscarriage is always in the back of my mind.  But I truly believe God will bless us with more children.

I never gave it much thought to start having children in my mid-thirties.  My mother gave birth to my brother at forty-three(who is 21 years younger than me).   I got married when I was twenty-eight and we always said we would wait, at least, five years before we would start trying to get pregnant.  I know risks for potential health issues rise every year after thirty-five, but just assumed I would have all my babies back to back.   The plan was so simple in my mind.  We would start trying to conceive when I turned thirty-three.   I would get pregnant right away and before my thirty-four birthday I would give birth to our first born.  Our second and third would arrive over the following few years.  We would be a family of four and I would only be thirty-eight.  In my mind, this perfect plan still gave us time for a fourth little one.

Saving energy, but totally bummed out

We are trying.  We really are.  My husband and I are trying to be more green, more fiscally sound, just plain more responsible.   We turn out the lights as we exit a room.   We do not run the water while we brush our teeth.  Well, my husband does this all the time and I, honestly, try to remember.   I shop local and buy organic as much as possible.  We reuse, reduce and recycle!   We paid off all our debt.   I mean really in this economy, did we have a choice?  All in all, we feel great about making these small changes and we are continuing to find ways to improve our way of life.

Now, Christmas is upon us.  Actually, it is in days not even weeks anymore.   We are continuing to decorate and probably will not be finished until December 24th.   As I ride around town and pass all the lit up houses, I can not help but think of all the energy being wasted.   Yes, some of the houses are beautiful with their drizzle lights and greens draping from their window panes.   Oh, and then there are the 'Griswald's'.   I would love to see their PECO bill for December, actually even November as so many houses were a blaze by mid-November in our neighborhood.  As for our home, we stayed simple and barely used Christmas lights.   The lights we used outside are LED, which brings me to the true meaning of my title.

Honey, I am selling the jet

I wonder if that’s how Alan Mulally, Ford’s CEO, broke the news to his wife. Selling the company’s private aircraft was one of the many expense cutting actions in Ford’s proposal to Congress. And did he also say, “Oh, by the way, I am taking a small pay cut too!” He is proposing his salary will be a dollar a year for the next two years as well.

Mr. Mulally, along with Mr. Wagoner (GM) and Mr. Nardelli (Chrysler) are asking for $34 billion. When I first heard this, the first word out of mouth was “WHAT” and then I resolved to stay close to the story to learn more. The more I heard, read, and stumbled upon, the more furious I became. The press made such a big deal about them driving their hybrids to Washington, because those gentlemen, apparently, flew in via private jets the first trip. But today as I type this post, listening to Christmas music in the background, I am sad thinking about this story. And the words that are coming to mind now are “Why” and “How did this happen”. Why do companies feel that it’s the government’s duty to “bail” them out? Do they not understand that it’s not Congress’ money they are pleading for! It’s mine and it’s your money. As long as we are a taxpaying citizen, I fear we will be solely responsible for “bailing” Wall Street out (remember the $700 billion right before the election) and now Detroit’s “Big Three”. And why did the CEOs let their employees down by miss managing these companies and they are still in the highest position. If I miss managed my responsibilities, I would be warned and then fired. Perhaps, I am missing something or have not read or listened as closely as I should but I can not fully figure out how it came to a request for $34 billion. I get the economy is down, I get that consumers are not buying their vehicles, but it just appears to me that they waited too long to make substantial changes to decrease expenses.  Example, why are they now (this past week), ceasing to use and putting up for sale the company jet?

After all we have been through…

About 16 months ago, I gave birth to a beautiful little boy. He is my little superman. For the first 11 months of his life, he was a total “mama’s boy”. Now, not so much…

I definitely think a little back-story will help set the stage of this heartbreaking tale of a mother desperately trying to be her son’s favorite person again!

My pregnancy was a rollercoaster ride. After miscarrying a few months prior, I was overjoyed and yet nervous when I found out I was pregnant again. I bled through my first trimester, on partial bed-rest, and no nothing (exercise, sex, etc…). Needless to say, I was worried the entire trimester about losing my second precious gift I was carrying. However, my second trimester was easy and so much fun. Even though, my husband and I decided not to find out the sex of our baby, I was totally bonding with this little one inside my womb. I remember feeling the first flutters to full blown kicks throughout the second trimester. I would sing songs and read stories to the little one inside me.  I could not wait to meet, hold and kiss my baby.

The bliss of the second trimester turned down right scary at 32 weeks. I went into preterm labor in California. Okay, first let’s just answer the question I get all time, “what were you doing in so very pregnant”. Actually, it is normal for pregnant women to fly up to 36 weeks. I went to my doctor two days prior to the trip and everything checked out fine. Our trip was short! We were spending a long weekend with family. To make a very long story short, after getting an awful stomach virus, I ended up in the hospital having contractions. Apparently, they were five minutes apart. I had no idea what I was feeling were contractions. Crazy, I know! I spend six days in the hospital. They gave me every drug under the sun to stop the contractions, but nothing seemed to eliminate them. I thought my precious child was going to be born premature and so far from home. Thankfully, he wasn’t. My contractions subsided, everyone held their breathe and said their prayers, we boarded the plane and I promised my little one I would always keep him/her safe and close to me!