I wanted to share a couple more grainy photos of my kid, taken during the LONGEST WINTER OF HISTORY (we officially won’t have a Spring, pretty sure). We went to a museum two Fridays ago, saw the “Nemos” and then Cy found the moon! Is it not awesome?
and then there was a creepy room full of weird toys with recreations to play with. He liked those too.
But not as much as the moon.
I found this plastic-wrapped thing of beauty while waiting in the check out lane at WalMart. I was just chillin’ there with my toilet paper and tooth brushes when I saw it, glinting up at me from its place next to the multi-colored straws and pencils with Disney Princesses bobbing on top of them.
A stainless steel flask, people. For all your impulse-buying flask-related needs.
I love posts like this, that provide me a new insight into another faith, especially a faith that I already admire so much. I love how insights into other people’s religions so often make me think about my own, and how I can deepen my faith while also deepening my connection with people all over the world.
Thanks Itto’s Living Faith.
So I was reading Cy his chosen bed-time stories tonight, when I realized how much of a real-to-life treasure this book is. So I thought I’d share it with you. In all it’s grainy, iPhone photo goodness. My friend Amy sent it to Cy awhile back, and he loves looking at it. But I’ve never really looked at it like I did tonight.
Where Is Baby’s Mommy? Karen Katz
I can tell you right now that Mommy is not in the closet.
Even still, a little anticlimactic.
I know very few Mommies who could successfully hide behind a plant. But look anyway Baby.
Is it routine for you to leave your crap laying all over the place?
Here we go again.
Ok.
What? With the rice you begged for then threw under there in a fit of rage before bed time? No. Probably not.
So yes. You do routinely leave your crap everywhere.
If so, better hope Mommy is alone.
Of course. One Freudian crisis averted.
I don’t know. Is Mommy under the blanket? (Please, for the love of Allah let Mommy be under the blanket.)
Of course she is! While you were macking on the cat Mommy was taking a NAP. SUCKA.
Also, I found this priceless gem at the library today. I was looking for toddler activities to store up for the long winter ahead. Brace yourself.
BAM.
Don’t they have medicine for this?
So, over the last few weeks I have read some HILARIOUS/HORRENDOUSLY scary posts. Posts involving situations in which there is some sort of child-related emergency and panic-level is high, but the blog post afterward is good for some “Oh holy crap what would I have done?” chuckles.
So I thought I’d try to collect them for you and share them with you on Saturdays, while giving some of my favorite bloggers some link love, as well.
So, for your Saturday reading pleasure…
Mom-ergency number one from Fluent Brittish. The pictures are what really made it.
Thanks for reading.
Today was a good day. I planned to take Cy up to a library a few towns over (up? down?) for their end-of-year Summer Reading Program party. The theme: Go Green! So I put him in a cute eco-friendly themed-shirt, he actually woke up from his nap right on time- and off we went!
I didn’t really know what to expect. I kind of accidentally joined their group. I had gone up there as kind of a fluke (I pass like, 3 libraries on my way to this particular library, but it’s in an area that’s nice to walk around sometimes) and the librarian said I should sign him up even though they usually started kids at 3. I was thrilled that someone seemed like they WANTED him to participate, and although we didn’t go back much in between I wrote down the books he read as we read them and got to put 29 stamps on the board for him today. He also got a prize (a few cheap cars, probably and ironically made from some cheap, breakable plastic)(HELLO SUSTAINABLE LIBRARY PRIZES?RIGHT?) which sent him over the MOON, but not as over the moon as the little concert they had for the party.
It was a guy and a guitar. And a slideshow with pictures of the earth and the planets and the stars, and funny songs about recycling and composting and dances for the kids to learn. And Cy ATE.IT.RIGHT.UP. He was busting a move, singing along and wildly pointing at the picture of the earth on his shirt
Bust a MOVE. It was pretty awesome, and I was so proud of his attention span, his apparent care for the environment (haha), and how he tried to sing along and participate. My FAVORITE part, though was when he leaned on my back with his head resting on my shoulder, his little body moving with the rhythm of the song, and reached around and gave me a cuddly kiss on the cheek. MW-WA. It was awesome to be rocking out with him, feeling his joy and affection and enjoying what turned into a total event for him. And me. It made my day today. It made me feel like a fun mommy and a good community member rolled into one. And when we left Cy waved and said, “Goodbye ‘body!” and laid his little head on my shoulder and went all limp as if to say, “SO tired.” So even if he’s big enough to dance it up at a party, he still needs me to carry him to the car afterward.
Which just reminded me of a post I’ve been meaning to write about how toddlers are a lot like college students.
But anyway.
Have a good night folks.
So. I’m a bit of a vacuumer. I like to have clean floors. All winter I think, “I can’t wait for summer so that the floors won’t get so dirty!” and then all summer I think, “I can’t wait for winter so the floors don’t get so dirty!” I think I’m realizing that floors just get dirty. Up until recently I used 4 (FOUR) devices in my clean floor quest.
First, the Carpet Sweeper.
I love this thing. I originally bought it because Cy was TERRIFIED of the vacuum cleaner. (He’s not anymore.) But I became addicted. It does a GREAT job on hardwood floors and short carpets. It’s quick, it’s easy, it’s easy to clean up. I want to buy another one so I don’t have to bring the one I have upstairs and downstairs all the time. But that might be overkill. Maybe.
Second, I use a Stick Vacuum cleaner…
I use this in the kitchen, hallways, anywhere where dustbunnies accumulate and when I want to get up the million Cheerios left behind after breakfast. When I don’t to use the beast.
Which brings me to…The BEAST:
It’s great. Except that I actually sprained my diaphragm hauling it up the stairs one day. Not even kidding. It weighs 40,894 lbs. It worked well, but I always avoided using it and therefore used EVERY OTHER THING IN THE WORLD, including a old, broken -down version of one of these to do the molding, walls, ceiling and other cracks and crevices that I didn’t want to haul the big vacuum around for.
In short: it was a freaking hassle.
Until…this…
Oh the Dyson. The Dyson that has LITERALLY replaced everything except for the Carpet Sweeper, that cleans the floors and the molding and the ceiling and the mini-blinds and the STAIRS and even my child. Yes, I have vacuumed my child with this vacuum. That’s how good it is.
I even got a super deal on it. I saw it online for much less than it was in the local Sears…but I had read in Parenting Magazine about “bartering,” so I used the “I’d love to keep my business local, but unless you can do a price match I’ll have to get it online.” (Did you read that too?) And then I WALKED AWAY from the PERFECT VACUUM and mourned the shipping time awaiting me. And then the salesman found me and made a deal. And then I felt very powerful indeed.
I actually had a dream about this vacuum. It was PERFECT except for one thing…the wand kept me from being able to get up close to things with the hose. I was kind of put out…worried that it’d get cumbersome and I’d have to go back to the canister to get under the couch, etc…but then I had a dream that I could detach the wand part and just use the hose with the other attachments. I actually troubleshooted the problem in my DREAMS, and when I tried it it WORKED. And that’s how obsessed I am. And how perfect the vacuum is.
And that is the end of the story.
Except that now I have my eye on this:
Ahhh. Clean floors. Niiiceeee.
Nothing in this post was sponsored, but if anyone wants to give me free vacuums or mops after the fact…I’m always game…
I’ve realized, just today, how comfortable Crocs are. I got some for my son recently, because although I’ve always thought they were ugly…I thought they were cute on little kids. While at the store I found some BRIGHT PINK Mary Jane style Crocs that were on sale. Imagine that, bright pink shoes on clearance. No way. I’ve worn them for two days and my feet don’t hurt like they do when I wear flip flops or go barefoot.
And then this afternoon it got a little chillier out.
So I added socks.
Please forgive me world.
It just feels so good.
I very rarely perpetuate internet drama. But something about this gives me a bit of a forum to say some things I’ve been wanting to say anyway (kind of). So here goes.
Have you ever had a feeling about an experience that was SO BIG that you knew the truth wouldn’t illicit the sympathy you needed from others? So then when you told the story you told it from the point of view of how it FELT instead of how it was? And then somehow that just became the truth to you? I know I have. I’ll admit it. Nothing public, recent…and really… nothing I remember specifically…but I do have a feeling that I’ve done that before. Maybe some of the memories I think are true are actually a result of that kind of thought process. I don’t know.
Tonight I read this story about a woman claiming that TSA separated her from her son while putting them through security screening. She describes a harrowing experience that completely contradicts what the TSA says they will do. Scary stuff. I’m not writing about whether or not she is lying. (Not entirely, anyway.) Especially since in the end it turns out the TSA has a blog. (Anyone else out there finding this hysterical?) And they went all out and posted all the footage from the woman going through security. And there she is, and there the kid is, the whole time. She says they doctored the footage. They said they didn’t. Whatever.
Moving on to my issues/opinions. Because we all know I have them and you’re here with me now to get an eyeball full. No?
#1) KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT and then DON’T HAND THEM YOUR KID
For the record, TSA says that they will never, ever separate you from your child. Back in the days when I was planning for a trip I read their website and thought to myself: “If someone tries to take my child from me, or insists that we are separated in any way, it means that they are BADIES and probably not really TSA.” I made a mental note to not let that happen. The first problem I have with her account of the situation is that she says she HANDED THEM HER SON. (Her words, not mine.) If they took the child away, SHE LET THEM TAKE HIM. I’d be all, “EXCUSE ME, you can wave your little wand over him and swab him with your swabs, but if you say you need to HOLD HIM or TAKE HIM, you best be getting some po po up in here to escort me out of this airport, because that’s not happening.” Being a Mom means being able to see when people are trying to play you and taking care of the situation and your child. No one is perfect and Moms make mistakes. But for goodness sakes, don’t hand them your kid.
#2) DON’T TAKE DRUGS
She says all kinds of stuff in her blog entry that get to me…but the biggest thing that upset me was the fact that as soon as she got through security and had 5 minutes to catch her flight…she detoured into the bathroom to pop a Xanax. Ok. I don’t know anything about Xanax…but if I am the only person around to take care of my child, you better believe I’m not going to drug myself. I don’t even take NyQuil without forewarning the household and making sure that my husband will be able to wake up for the kiddo if he needs to. (I honestly just took sleepy causing medicine for the first time in over two YEARS last week.) Just in CASE it hits me harder than it ever has before. Just in CASE I am unable to fucntion. Maybe Xanax is an opposite kind of drug…where it makes you HIGHER functioning if you’re the kind of person who needs it. But here’s another unwanted and judgemental opinion: If you are the type of person who may need Xanax because of unexpected delays or what you judge to be unfair treatment in an airport, DO NOT TRAVEL ALONE WITH A CHILD. Period.
And here’s a little life secret: YOUR SANITY AND ABILITY TO CARE FOR YOUR CHILD CANNOT DEPEND ON THE WORLD’S COOPERATION WITH YOUR PLANS AND PREFERENCES. You simply need to be able to suck it up and take care of yourself and your child.
And I can say that because I am a nervous person. (No medical issues with nervousness, not diagnosed anyway. I just get nervous about stuff and like to prepare for the just in cases when possible.) And when I took my first flight across the country with Camper I brought backup in the form of my Mother. Just in case. Because my kid is too important to me to risk a nervous meltdown with no one else around. (And good thing I’m HER kid and important to her, too. Seriously grateful for her.) (For the record and because I need one more parenthetical statement here, I was super fine the whole time, even when I went through the whole extra screening that this woman did and more. I was just fine.)
#3) Don’t exaggerate
You know what? If she had gotten on her blog and written: “They searched me for a LONG time and even stood between me and my child. It was humiliating and the people were impatient and I was freaked. There were people everywhere, my stuff was everywhere, and I felt separated from my son. I was absolutely panicked.” I would have been ENRAGED for her. Because they need to get a system where a mother doesn’t feel like her child is out of reach in a stroller while she is searched. From the video it seemed like the TSA agent sometimes stood between her and her baby. In my case we were brought into a plastic room where Camper was searched and then sat AWAY from the entrance in his stroller while the woman searched me. I never felt like she was between us or that he could be snatched by people walking by. Boils down to this: You don’t have to lie. You could have told me someone looked cross eyed at your baby in the bathroom and I would have pumped my fist, “O NO SHE DIDN’T!” Ok, maybe not. But sometimes we need to remember that we can have sympathy for how we felt, even if it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
#4) Equip yourself
I’m not the type of person to say “That woman is crazy, she shouldn’t have a child.” Because here’s the thing. Everyone’s a little crazy. We all have our issues, but our job as parents is to keep our kids safe from our issues. Think of it this way: if you had epilepsy and it was out of control, you wouldn’t go on a trip alone with an infant. If there was any chance that you would have a seizure and your kid would be at the mercy of whoever was walking by, you’d probably bring someone with you. Avoid going. Wait until your problem was under control. Panic disorders are just as much a medical problem as epilepsy. If you think you are going to freaking lose your cool, it’s your responsibility to a) avoid situations where your kid could be mistreated/taken while you are losing your cool b) wait til it’s under control or c) bring someone WITH YOU. Sometimes just having someone there can be the calming influence you need to keep even MECIAL problems under control, as a lot of issues are triggered by stress/fear/etc.
The End.
For those interested, I found a nighttime cloth diaper solution that means NO MORE DISPOSABLES!!! Here is the same post from before over at my review site with the updated info. Just in case you wanted to know.
A couple other cloth diaper items of interest: If you’re interested at all, check out Mom’sMilk Boutique. Still free shipping. Still awesome. Still a 10% discount if you use this code: MMB10 on your FIRST purchase of $65 or more.
Also, I just signed up for the Great Diaper Hunt. Fun way to find new places to shop (if you have the funds) get discounts and maybe win some prizes. I’m not sure yet if it’ll turn out to be a pain and a time waster, or excellent fun. I’m hoping for excellent fun and will let you know.
And Finally, a final site to check out. Feed Your Stash Friday! Giveaways every Friday. Just comment to enter.
