Mother's Day Giveaway!

Need a gift idea for your Momma?
Dads - solve all your Mother's Day shopping anxieties at your favorite blogspot!

Buy the Mommas in your life a great read. To really score points, try giving them a gift certificate for a few hours off to actually read it.

So many books - which one?
Well, it just so happens I have a suggestion:
'Because I Love Her.' Edited by Andrea N. Richesin.
A funny and moving collection of stories about the mother daughter bond.

We have one signed copy to give away. Enter by leaving me a comment and I'll pick a winner by random number draw. Enter by 6pm May 3rd.

Not a gambler? Order a copy on my Amazon link. Scroll down to 'Good and Interesting Reads.' under 'About Me.'
Remember - If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

Penance.

Mental note: Do not incur wrath by poking fun at God.

At the risk of sounding like a stuck record, one word - guilt.
I know I have had a lot to say about it. I know I have preached about its pointlessness but I have it. I have it up to my ears. I can't shake it.

The six year old has an ear infection. She's had it for week but I dismissed her complaints as she has molars coming in. The consequence is that she woke up at 2am in agony. It took TWELVE hours for me to get that pain under control.
Twelve hours of moaning, crying, agitated six year old is more than any parent can bear.

It was a day to test the full range of my parenting skills - I feel that I scored a D+ at best.
I dragged that poor girl to the doctor, then the store, then the pharmacist - where we had to wait (of course.) It was here we all hit our limit. So, if you were in Longs yesterday and saw a kid with a blanket around her head - sobbing, a baby crying in frustration as she tried (in vain) to get out of her stroller and a mom with tears pouring down her face - that was us. As timing would have it - fear of swine flu had people looking at us in horror and giving us a three aisle wide berth. So much for community.

Lucky for us there are antibiotics, which I have mixed feelings about using, but in this case was happy to pour enthusiastically down the six year old's throat.
She's already feeling much better. The eleven month old celebrated the days madness by learning to climb the stairs....

Thou Shalt Not Have Fun.

The Gods of parenting are not hedonists.
One night out. Our first in at least three months that was purely pleasure related and we are still paying the price. The eleven month obviously decided we were never coming back. She will only sleep with one eye open now and when I say 'sleep' I use the term loosely. I will not mention guilt but you get the picture.
The six year old wants us to re-enact the entire movie and evenings events for her endlessly. Fun for the first say, fifteen times.
I hope when you see 'Up' your consequences are not so far reaching. Still, we did have a great time and I did look like "a beautiful princess mummy." Shame the flip side is that I now look like a haggard old crone.

I'm not complaining, Ok I am, but why is the price so high? Trust me, I am fully aware of how lucky I am to be a mom (That's another more gritty blog.) I know that it's about sacrifice - but really. ONE night out. Too much to ask? Where am I going wrong? I'm actually asking. If you get to go out and don't pay for it for days - can you throw me a rope please.

They're in it together too. They've resorted to the old tag teaming trick. The six year old was caught sneaking up to the crib to "check if she's OK." We had a long discussion about why 'poking' might not be the best way to do this. I think kids have some kind of allergic reaction when they see a sleeping parent. Actually, the husband and I have tested my 'mommy spirit level' theory many times.
Picture peacefully sleeping baby, as soon as mommy goes horizontal - guess what?
Where do I send the complaint letter?

It's The Little Things.

In the parallel universe of parenthood, things others may take for granted are bold and beautiful. Today was a perfect example of this for me.
I spent this morning in the six year old's classroom. (Not wearing a floor length dress.) It was a delight on so many levels. Watching twenty two earnest kindergarteners play and learn together was sweet and cute and inspiring. If that hadn't been re-juvenating enough the teacher's assistant brought me coffee and a freshly baked muffin mid-morning and a delicious chicken salad at lunchtime. Heaven. Someone is serving me food and looking after me and I'm not paying for either a restaurant or a babysitter. For a full-time mom life just doesn't get any better.

But then it did. Two of my sweet friends offered to look after my kids for a few hours this afternoon so I could do some last minute special event preparation.
The joy of shopping alone cannot be explained to anyone who is not a parent.
Perusing the racks with no purpose other than to peruse can honestly feel like two weeks in Hawaii.
I achieved more in those two hours than I often achieve in two days. I got everything I went out for. Not just most things and a plan to get the rest tomorrow. Everything.

I picked up the girls and they were happy and tired. We came home they ate heartily and went to bed early.
Wait a minute - am I dreaming?

What Not To Wear.

It's cooled down. We are all much happier. The baby is sleeping again. All is well with the world. It's amazing to me that the entire experience of parenting is rooted in sleep or, the lack of it. I still think the ever enterprising drug companies are missing out on a big opportunity. Not that I would give drugs to my baby. It just seems that there might be some parents who would benefit from it. Not me you understand.

We have a busy week. This weekend we have a special event. I bought a dress. After being pregnant on and off for ten years - I have many extra pounds. I always buy black. This year I decided enough with the black and bought something colorful. The six year old thinks it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

On Friday I am spending the morning in the six year old's classroom. It's an annual event and the six year old is VERY excited it's finally my turn.
She came to me yesterday with that sweet (give me anything I want) smile on her face.
"Mummy, I want all the friends at school to see you at your most beautiful, will you wear something special?" Awwwww.
"Yes sweetie, what a great idea - what did you have in mind?"
"Well how about the new dress?"
The hopeful look on her face was so emploring, I actually spent a few minutes wondering if I could dress it down enough to wear it. To class. With 22 sticky fingered kindergarteners. We settled on something else - pretty but a little more practical.

If only we adults lived in a world where I would have just worn that dress and delighted my daughter.

Short Cuts

It's hot. Really hot. It makes me want to move slowly and we all seem a little cranky.
It might be because the heat (like every other damn thing) interrupts the baby's sleep.
We have lost our twelve hour sleep pattern already. Sigh. It was fun while it lasted.

At first I thought I was going to write guiltily about the short cuts I have been taking in the heat but I have decided instead to celebrate them. Maybe you'll want to use them too. Maybe they'll catch on and be the new 'it thing' in parenting. Maybe.

The eleven month old has decided that she only wants solid foods now. I was unprepared. I have jars and jars of baby food but when she started re-decorating with it I took it as a sign that she's done. So, I ventured into the cupboard to see what we had.
Now if the husband was writing this he'd now tell you that come the earthquake we will eat comfortably for a year on the contents of our cupboards. We will also be able to feed the neighbors and the local scout troop.
In my over heated state - I saw nothing viable.

I did eventually find a box of Macaroni. Excellent - babies love Mac 'n' Cheese. Small problem cheese sauce involves effort.
So, I cooked the macaroni and melted a square of cheese on it. That counts right? It's good solid nutrition if you squint your eyes and pretend.

The baby LOVED it - so there. She loved it so much she wore it and ate it. By this point she was very hot and bothered so I ran her a bath. We 'bath' in the kitchen sink. I realized half way through the bath that she hadn't had her apple sauce.
Well we weren't going to make a mess of squeaky clean baby were we and since the kitchen sink is next to the fridge and the spoons - we had apple sauce in the bath.
Brilliant. I recommend it. The mess is instantly cleaned up and you can achieve dinner and bath in half the time.
We might have all our meals this way.......

It's The Simple Things.

It is so good to be home. Routine, after a break, is once again good.
Funny how that goes - you get bored of routine but then you miss it.

The six year old is delighted to be back at school. So delighted she even ate soup on soup day.
You probably need some background to appreciate this.
Each day at kindergarten has an assigned snack. Four out of five days delight her.
Soup day is 'yucky.' Her teacher has been gently trying to coax her to eat some. She started with an egg cup full, progressed to a small cup and has now managed a bowl - reluctantly. This has been an eight month process.
On soup day this week, she ran to me at pick up and declared loudly,
"Mummy, I ate the soup -I even liked it. Ben said we should call the newspaper."
Pretty witty for a six year old.

Yesterday, in the glorious sunshine we walked downtown to our local (and favorite) coffee shop.
Sitting there with a well made latte and a scone, the husband and I looked at each other,
"Now this is a vacation."
I think our rose colored view came from the fact that the baby has been sleeping TWELVE hour nights.
That alone would be a miracle but she also has been napping for two hours at a time AND she is eating like a horse.
She is as jolly and contented as a gerber baby. It's bliss.
Quite a change from her sister's earlier observation,
"Mummy, I think the baby is nocturnal - she sleeps in the day and cries at night."

Maybe it was worth three weeks of travel to get to this point. I'm thinking Hawaii in the fall.
If you are standing anywhere next to my husband as you read this - move away quickly but first provide him with pillows to punch.

PRETTY FREE STUFF!!

Run - don't walk - to mosey along
There you will find a fabulous giveaway from The Lazy Giraffe
Why are you still here?
p.s. Don't forget to come back!

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Lost In Translation

Am I speaking a foreign language? Are my words unclear?
I think I'm fairly articulate. Most people seem to understand me well.
Except for the six year old. To her I speak Martian apparently.

Thursday is a bus day. We are tight for time. In about 30 minutes, I have to feed the baby then get the six year old up, into the bathroom, dressed and downstairs for breakfast. In the meantime I have packed a lunch and changed a diaper.

This morning I asked the six year old to put on the clothes I had laid out for her while I went to make breakfast. Ten minutes later she saunters into the kitchen- beautifully dressed in her pajamas.
What did she do with that ten minutes? When I asked her - she had no explanation.
"Oh, you know."
No, I don't know - I really want to know. I would like to understand where the six year old mind takes you when you have a specific instruction.

I thought females were multi-taskers. Are my expectations too high?
I did lay out the clothes - she just had to put them on. She has the motor skills.
Does the bedroom of a child contain a time warp?

So there I am full of righteous indignation. Frustrated by her lack of focus.
Aaah, instant karma.
We head off for the bus. At the stop I usually get on the bus to check her seatbelt is secure.
I then stand by and wave her off. As the bus pulls out one of the other moms points out that I still have her lunch pack in my hand. Aaaargh.

I am just running to the car to chase the bus to the next pick up stop when the bus returns. A very concerned six year old peering out the window. A very frustrated bus driver with a tight schedule gives me the very look I gave my pajama clad kid in the kitchen only 20 minutes prior.
I am suitably chastened.

Hear No Evil

You know that guilt that I was going to ditch? The guilt that I preach loudly about being pointless.
Well, that guilt is living in my personal space. I can't shake it. Why? Two words - ear plugs.

Before I had babies, I had heard other parents talk about using ear plugs. I will now admit - I judged them. I thought it heartless to shut out your kids cries. I could not comprehend how you could do it.
Last night - I did it. It was great. Really - great.

The 11 month old is doing really well with sleep since we got back but she does wake around 3am. Usually she cries until I go to her and then will settle back to sleep after about half an hour of attention.
I decided I was encouraging a very bad habit. Last night I decided to break it.

As with many things I dread and feel horribly guilty about - it worked. She cried for less than 5 minutes and to my muffled ears she did not cry very hard. If she woke again, I simply did not hear her.
She woke smiley and apparently rested. Am I evil?

Just for the record, I'm not actually looking for you to answer that - unless you agree with me.

There's No Place Like Home.

It is good to be home. No matter how fun a trip is - your own bed and bathroom is a slice of heaven.
The kids seem to agree. I've had more sleep in the past 48 hours than I had for the past three weeks combined.

Jet lag is a funny thing though. I've been waking in the dark confused as to where I am. I actually managed to spook myself last night. I woke and the shadows in the room seemed to have some significance. I gave myself a stiff talking to about monsters under the bed and drifted back to sleep. I awoke again and heard something next to me. Startled - I turned to look and there next to the bed was a witch. Black cape, pointed hat and all - standing, silently staring at me. I yelped - waking the baby and the husband. The witch said "Good morning Mama."
We are yet to ascertain why of all her dress up, she missed her witch costume so much but apparently she did.

The 11 month old seems very happy to see her own crib and some of her toys. Perhaps a bath in your own kitchen sink is really better. Either way my guilt over the disruption travel caused her is easing.

The six year old's room looks like a tornado came through. Her delight at re-discovering her things is very sweet.
Her accent has immediately turned stateside again. Some odd (and funny) exceptions have had the husband and I giggling. Yesterday she asked "Daddy, is my mother's father asleep now?"
"Do you mean Grandad sweetie?"
"Well of course."
Presumably, we will be back to 'dude' and 'awesome' within a day or so.
I wonder what British-isms she's sharing back at school today.
I anticipate a call from her teacher.
Next trip we're going camping no more than 20 miles from home.

When In Rome

We are back in London - land of ancient history, gorgeous buildings and fantastic public transport. Unless you are travelling with a stroller and suitcases.
I do not know how Londoners with kids do it. Using the underground is one of the most stressful things I've done since I had children. Didn't help we got on at Kings Cross at rush hour - must complain to the trip planner...

The six year old is now affecting an English accent again after being firmly in 'BraveHeart' mode for the past ten days. She is very interested in the fact that there are actual princesses here and has many questions related to the royals. Our favorite so far is, "Mummy, how many houses do the Queen and Prince Charming have?"

The 11 month old has decided this is an ideal time to learn to walk. We knew there must have been some reason she slept for her first ten hour stretch in over a month. Not to worry - we fly back in two days so we can start the jet lag fun all over again. Yipee.

I was warned by many wiser ex-pat parents that travelling with an infant is VERY difficult but I, in true parent style, decided it would be different for us. You can now all shout "I told you so" very loudly at the computer. Actually - it's been fine for her, I just resemble a bag lady and the husband is now completely gray.
Still, it was worth it. The grandparent grandchild relationship is such a special one and the haggis was fantastic.
See you stateside!

History Repeating

Taking my children to my childhood home is a beautiful thing. (Jet lag aside.)
I have shown my daughters my old school. Taken them to feed ducks where I fed ducks 30 (aaagh) years ago.
We have listened to bagpipes on the high street and danced a wee jig. Eaten sweets and treats so filled with nostalgia the actual taste is irrelevant and the six year olds personal favorite - rode the bus.
Edinburgh is a stunningly beautiful city and I am filled with the pride of being from here.
Everything is just different enough to be of wonder to us and the six year old now has a lovely Scottish accent.

Grandad has been endlessly entertaining and watching them together is lovely.
In the wonderful way that children are so open and honest, the six year old has taken him to task for using foreign words, "You must speak only in english Grandad." Grandad is speaking in english - just with a brogue.
Since spelling words we don't want her to understand is no longer an option we may have found a new way to discuss secrets.

The ten month old finally slept a seven hour stretch last night so I am less frazzled and a little more in love with her today.
She does still carry an expression of bemusement on her face - I'd love to know what she makes of it all. Maybe she'll tell me one day. Maybe I don't really want to know.
Today we hope to see Muckle Coo - the top pic should clue you in - and then in great Scottish tradition I would think we'll find a tea room and eat some more incredibly unhealthy and delicious treats.
Aah it's good to be home.

You Say Tomato...

The six year old is a celebrity. Well not really, but indulge me in my motherly pride. We have been staying at a hotel in a fairly rural part of Scotland. Completely charming with lots of sheep and lambs in the surrounding fields and more lard per square inch of dinner plate than any artery can stand.

The hotel is full of families on spring break. The six year old's celebrity status comes from her American accent. A rarity in these parts apparently. People are coming up to talk to her and ask her about her home. Which part is she from "America silly." What biscuits, knickers and prams are called there "cookies, panties and strollers of course" and a multitude of other enquiries.

In return her vocabulary now includes words like drookit (wet), minging (smelly) and barrie (great.) She can now dance a Gay Gordons and an Eightsome Reel. She has taught her compatriots a home grown version of a square dance.
I feel that as Obama touched down in London today, my 'wee girl' is doing her part to encourage anglo-american relations.

The 10 month old is simply bemused. She has slept in three different travel cots so far. Bathed in tubs of varying size and shape and eaten in highchairs at so many different tables, we've lost count. Poor baby - I'm feeling very guilty about dragging her around like this. On the positive, life experience side - she did do 'The Macarena, Chicken Dance and Limbo' in the hotel ballroom last night. Not many 10 month olds have that on their resume. (Nor should they.)

We're off (again) to Edinburgh tomorrow to meet Grandad - another cot, another highchair.
Hopefully a little less lard......