Posted
October 31, 2006 at
1:00 am by
Cristina
When it comes to?? relating?? to other moms, I realize that there’s a big difference between being?? nosy and?? judgmental?? and being a caring, concerned friend. For example, while the?? judgemental mom might make her mommy friend feel guilty for not?? properly bundling up her child on an outing to the park in cold weather, the concerned but caring mom would simply offer an extra blanket if she had one to spare.
However,?? I often find that the line between being judgmental?? and being?? concerned is not always so?? easy to judge. For example, a few months ago, during one of my son’s playgroup dates, the topic of sports came up among the moms present. One of the new moms, who had just joined the group recently, mentioned that she and her husband love to play tennis and basketball.
“Wow”, I said. “You have time to play tennis and basketball with an infant??? That’s great. I haven’t exercised?? at all since my son was born. Who watches?? your baby while you guys play?”
“Oh,” she said, “no one has to watch the baby?? for us because we play with the baby.”
“You play with the baby? What do you mean?” I asked, confused.
“Oh, it’s easy,” she explained. “I just strap my daughter into the Baby Bjorn and play with her. She loves it. In fact, she usually just falls asleep while we play.”
As I looked around the room at the handful of other moms?? listening in to the conversation, I noticed that almost all of their mouths were hanging open. As was mine.
This girl was playing tennis and basketball with her baby strapped into her Baby Bjorn? Was she serious? Hadn’t she ever heard of shaken baby syndrome?
Immediately, I thought to myself, “Could this explain her baby’s listlessness? Could this baby, who was?? always very quiet and almost always asleep?? during the few outings she had attended with the mom’s group, actually have brain damage because her?? mother bounced her around several hours a week playing sports?”
By the time I had wrapped my mind around it, she had changed the subject. But for the rest of that day and for weeks later, it bothered me. Should I say something to her? Warn her about the dangers of bouncing her little bitty 14-pound baby around on the tennis court? Tell her that the bones of?? her child’s skull had yet to?? completely grow together? Was it possible that she really didn’t know this? I felt compelled to say something.
And yet, something stopped me.?? Part of me felt like?? it wasn’t my place to say anything. And after all, she is the mother of the baby not me. Plus, I hadn’t seen them playing tennis or basketball. Maybe, somehow, she could play without really moving. Maybe the image of her jostling that baby up and down for an hour three times a week was just me over-reacting and not understanding the situation.
So, I never did say anything.?? And in retrospect, I feel a little guilty about it. I mean, if that had been me, and I had been putting my baby at risk without realizing it, I would have wanted another mother to say something to me. It might have hurt my pride at the time, but I would have appreciated it.??
So, now I am just left wondering if her baby is OK. I saw her again recently and was relieved to see that her daughter, now a one-year-old,?? appeared normal. But if I had to do it over again, I would have said something. Only I would approached it delicately, and rather than?? blurting out, “Are you crazy?!”, which is what I was thinking,?? I would have simply suggested the following: “Perhaps you might want to consider taking up a hobby like Scrabble instead.”
Tag: mommy groups
Posted
October 30, 2006 at
11:51 pm by
Prescott
Given that inexpensive, highly-detailed injection molded latex masks and theater quality makeup is a rather recent technological advancement, I’m sure even the youngest of us here can remember the more “creative” ways our parents had to adorn us for the Halloweens of our youth. From the plastic poncho/mask getups (good lord, I think I remember the “Gabe Kaplan”) to the homemade atrocities — and if you’re a geezer like me, you’ll have a fond recollection of “Kooky Spooks” — there’s bound to be a deeply harbored embarrassing Halloween that only your therapist knows about. Until now.
Spill your guts and tell us about your worst Halloween memory ever in the comments below. The story that we will very arbitrarily decide (no whining) tomorrow is best scores an Imperfect Parent t-shirt, as well as the added benefit of unloading some emotional baggage. To get you in the spirit, I’ll start:
My most vivid Halloween costume memory is the year I was dressed as Peter Pan. And not some Ben Franklin version, we’re talking a homemade costume done entirely in green felt, with a feather in the hat, shoes, the whole nine yards. Which might have been cute on a toddler, but although I can’t remember the exact age I wore it, I was most certainly too old to be prancing around in green tights. I mean, seriously, I think this might have been third grade. The whole experience may explain why I enjoy shopping for clothes and have a penchant for high quality moisturizers.
I might have felt guilt for this revulsion towards the costume that my mom painstakingly made for me, except that she didn’t — IT WAS A HAND-ME-DOWN. From what other emotionally scarred kid I got it from, I don’t remember.
Your benchmark has been set.
(It should go without saying that if you wish to claim your prize, you need to provide your actual email address in the comment form.)
Posted
October 30, 2006 at
11:47 pm by
Amy
Halloween today in no way resembles the Halloween of my youth. We trick-or-treated with pillow cases until 10pm, dumping them out at home once full and then heading back out again.?? House after house, street after street was?? bustling with costumed kids and adults.?? We yelled “trick-or-treat” in unison no matter our age.?? It wasn’t until I was probably about my daughter’s age, 11, that?? anyone start “checking” the candy for razors or other special things.
Even though my neighborhood has lots of kids, I’ll be lucky if?? I?? see one Elmo and a smattering of princesses.?? Trick-or-Treating in my town is from 3 to 7.?? I guess doling out the three bags of candy I bought today is?? not only?? a pipe dream, but tomorrow’s dinner as well.??
And as?? if remembering the glory of Halloweens past?? my isn’t enough, my preteen daughter hit up history for her hippie costume,?? and that?? whole ordeal catapulted me?? right into the future.I did not put one even one Halloween decoration this year, and my kids didn’t care. My 14 year old shrugs his shoulders at the mention of Halloween, just hopeful I bought candy he likes. My daughter is going to a friend’s house after school, putting on her costume and trick-or-treating with other pre-teen girls in their neighborhood.?? ?? That means she won’t even our doorbell.??
It also means my photos of tomorrow’s event will be handed to me from an eleven year old, not uploaded from my digital camera.
Unless of course I put on a costume of my own and follow her around.?? Which I threatened to do?? promised I would never do.??
Anyway in this day and age, that would probably get me arrested.
??
??
Tags: Halloween, Parenting, Preteen
Posted
October 30, 2006 at
2:58 pm by
Julie
I purposely leave?? my Halloween shopping until the day before Halloween.
It makes sense:?? I don’t have bags of candy tempting me from the pantry, and I might even be able to pick up some goodies on sale.?? My kids don’t get a new costume every year, so I don’t have to worry that they’ll get stuck with the costumes that nobody else wanted, three sizes too big for them.?? We didn’t even carve a pumpkin this year - those suckers are expensive.?? I bought a bag of gourds instead.
But as stores begin displaying merchandise earlier and earlier in the season, I’m discovering that my approach isn’t as foolproof as it used to be.
I went to the Disney Store three weeks ago, where the costumes were already marked down to 50% off.?? A friend of mine went last week:?? Not a single one left.
I went to the grocery store this morning to get Halloween candy for the trick-or-treaters, and some candy corn to decorate cupcakes for Tacy’s class party.?? I found a lone bag of candy corn on a high shelf.?? If it hadn’t been out of place, and if I hadn’t been determined to find it, I would’ve gone home emptyhanded.?? Out of the hundreds of bags that went on display in August, one lousy bag of candy corn was left.
This afternoon, I’m heading to the craft store for trick-or-treat bags.?? Maybe I’ll actually find some, buried in the Christmas paraphernalia.
Posted
October 30, 2006 at
12:00 pm by
Amy
It’s hard being straight as an arrow sometimes. It lends it self to being judgemental and feeling uncomfortably holier-than-thou. I tend to have a rather firm grasp on human nature and behaviors, but there is a phenomenon that eludes me.
I was one of two single people at a huge Halloween party last night, and probably also one of two or three who wasn’t drunk, or high, or both.
How do parents reconcile being drunk as skunks or high as kites and going home to children, big or small?
Most of these people also had to drive home, although locally. Most of these people also had babysitters who presumably needed rides home as well. And what happened if one of any number of children across manicured lawn lines woke up in the middle of the night?
“Sorry that I woke you with my hysterical giggling little Joey, Momsie will take this lampshade off her head as soon as she’s done with the bag of Cheetohs?”
And what about teens? How do you teach teens to not drink or do drugs when you are? Is this classic do as I say not as I do? Do these parents think the teens have no clue?
Certainly there are things appropriate for adults and not for children or teens, but I’m not sure I’m on board with drugs and excessive alcohol consumption being two of them. Not with the propensity of teens to abusive and addictive dangerous behaviors.
I’m not here to argue whether or not pot is addictive or if it should be a legal substance. That’s not the issue, and fact is, it’s not legal. Nor is drinking under 21. I’ve heard arguments for teaching kids to handle alcohol responsibly before they can legally drink because they’re going to do it anyway — does that also mean helping them roll a joint, handing them condoms and a copy of Kama Sutra?
Ok, I’m officially an old fart.
Fact is that I gave up smoking pot over 20 years ago and have no interest in going back to it. And while I like a glass of Pinot Noir as much as the next gal, one or two is my limit, and if I’m driving - the limit is one. I take no pleasure in getting drunk at this stage of my life, while knocking back a half dozen martini’s seems to fit the bill nicely for many. I don’t get it. To me it seems very immature and irresponsible.
I guess the bottom line is something I’ve been telling my kids since they could ask “Why?”
Grown-ups get to make their own decisions.
And it will serve me well to remember that, because while it’s true, all I could think of last night were two simple words.
GROW UP.
We all don’t do the same things for fun or find the same things “acceptable.” And I try to teach my kids and live a life of tolerance and inclusion, but this is something I not only want no part of, I do not want to even pretend to condone it.
I tolerate behavior like this by removing myself from the situation. My kids weren’t at this party, so I was nobody’s mama. Nor was I interested in dispensing my blog-worthy self-righteous wisdom to 40 and 50-somethings with bloodshot eyes and the munchies.
I left at 10:30 with an honest-to-goodness headache that I couldn’t shake. But I wasn’t sorry. It’s no fun talking to people who are drunk or high, so I did my best mingling, during the early hours and then went home.
I’m realistic. I know that my kids will undoubtedly have friends and friends’ parents do things I don’t approve of, and that sometimes they’ll be on board as well.
All I can do is my best. And while sometimes that includes the drive-thru at Baskin & Robbins, it does not include excessive drinking or the use of drugs.
Now one may argue that Pralines and Cream is addictive, and you’d get no argument from me. But thankfully at last check it was still legal.
Tags: Parenting, teenage drinking, teenage drug use
Posted
October 30, 2006 at
4:21 am by
Jessica
It seems more moms are bringing babies into this world with a much larger war chest than in previous years. First and foremost, the independence and checkbook of the more mature and sophisticated mother have allowed to her be a demographic worth fighting for. While older female generations laugh and roll their eyes at the calculated planning of 20- and 30-somethings in deciding when to start a family, it is not uncommon to hear women, both married and single, announce that they will have children when they can afford it. I remember a college professor ridiculing such silly and well-intentioned plans asking, “When can you ever really afford a child?”
But today’s moms aren’t investing in basics, they’re investing for hardcore label collateral. Items such as Bugaboo strollers, triangle-shaped-gold-leaf cribs, Tiffany spoons, bilingual V-tech toys, laptops, children’s life coaches and tutoring. It’s all a part of bringing children into this world to truly appreciate the most important part of life — stuff.
From The Hamilton Spectator, Deirdre Healey observes corporations circling around pregnant women like sharks:
Retailers are scrambling to get a piece of the billions spent by older, more educated and affluent moms. The kind who wants her child to wear the latest fashion trends, play with educational toys that encourage brain development and have as many hair and skin care products as she does.
Toys that will make you smarter. Something tells me we’re not talking paper, pencils and books, oh, no. That’s for chumps!
Retailers are scrambling to get a piece of the billions spent by older, more educated and affluent moms. The kind who wants her child to wear the latest fashion trends, pThis generation of moms are competitive when it comes to raising their children, said Maureen Hupfer, marketing professor at McMaster University’s DeGroote School of Business. They are always trying to out do their peers with products that promise a better experience for their child or will make life easier for mom.
Fiona Petit, co-owner of Baby World in Stoney Creek, is constantly going to baby shows with the hope of finding the latest product from all-terrain strollers to baby carriers with special back support.
I love this part: “products that promise a better experience for the child”. I’m sure an infant riding around in a Bugaboo stroller is just so much more enlightened that those whose parents have to “settle” for Graco. Surely the difference will be monumental and significant. One will talk with his/her teeth clenched while the other will hurl obscenities at the bus driver.
In the wake of criticizing Madonna for her latest African purchase, I wonder if I might have been too harsh on her when everybody’s doin’ it. The only difference is they’re doin’ it with their biological children. So, what’s the difference? Could it be that babies in general becoming mere accessories? Something by which to compare and accessorize the accessory? And what happens when one grows tired of the accessory?
Of course, there are always better to be had. Better educations, better cars, better clothes, better haircuts but that does not make a better child or a child better.
If only it were that easy.
The children who are nothing more than victims of their parents material issues seem to pay the ultimate price; the love and affection they seek is only given back with stuff, but it is not stuff that they need or want. The price they pay is often times a trade off for what they truly desire. While their parents are out accumulating more stuff, they wind up with things that don’t mean much. I see it quite often. Vile and mean spirited children with a whole lotta stuff and the stuff becomes worthless with nobody to share it with.
Tags: baby items, new moms, Parenting, pregnancy
Posted
October 29, 2006 at
10:21 am by
Andrea
My presentation on Friday was part of a panel about mommy blogging. There were five of us; the other four covered mommy blogging as a genre, how blogging about mothering publicly can affect your mothering, mommy blogging as folk art, and how advertising is beginning to affect mommy blogging. My topic was the experience of writing about mothering a child who is, in some way, different–whether it be disability or illness or just an undiagnosable genetic syndrome–on the internet.
In one of those moments of serendipity–or perhaps sensitivity after exposing myself to this issue for a few months–yesterday there was a section in the Toronto Star about access to post-secondary education for students with disabilities, and how attitudes are slowly changing. The articles gave me a great deal of hope–perhaps we, as the last generation to expect students with differences or issues or delays to be segregated educationally, are the last of the dinosaurs, the last to feel uncomfortable in the presence of a child not regularly featured in Parents magazine. Perhaps stand-up comics who can’t stand up and PhD students who can’t spell without assistance will simply be accepted, normal parts of advanced education for our children, and workplaces will automatically accomodate them because schools have automatically accomodated them, and they expect the world to work that way.
Perhaps it will be like the second wave of feminism–not perfect, not fixing everything by any stretch, but accomplishing nonetheless such a sea change that the way things used to be, the world of lowered expectations and isolation and segregation, is no longer imaginable.
I hope so. Because when, after finishing that, I find this letter about the death of a man with primordial dwarfism, I dread the world my daughter will live in.
(I’ll come back and write about the actual panel and how it went once my co-presenters have had a chance to decompress and post their own talks, so that I can point to them. And parts of this post will end up on my own blog tomorrow–but I didn’t want anyone to think I’d had that heart attack. It actually all went very well.)
Tags: disabilities, education, mommy bloggers, mommy blogs, motherlode
Posted
October 27, 2006 at
6:41 am by
Amy
Hold onto your stretch jeans, Jenny Craig! Throw away your Spanx!
According to a USA Today article, Americans can lose weight by?? simply putting their minds to it.
If?? we would just decide to eat less?? our waistlines would diminish.?? TA DAH!
I hate to throw a wrench into modern journalistic reporting, but?? I have decided that many times.
Didn’t work.
I’ve put my mind to losing weight about gazillion times in my almost 43 years and it has gotten harder with age to even remember what I’m trying to eat or not eat, let alone have the weight actually fall like a boulder off a cliff.
Geez, I feel silly for thinking all these years that it had to do with genetics, hormones, health, environment, media, exercise, motivation and actually doing something to counterbalance it all.
I think I’ll just add “putting your mind to it” to the list of things I tell my kids about eating right. I’m sure glad that modern life and schedules don’t sometimes lead us to the drive-thru and that Chips Ahoy bribes aren’t sometimes the way to get to talk on phone for five minutes.?? I’m glad that my teens and tweens listen to everything?? I say and do not buy the junk food in the school cafeteria.?? I’m glad neither of my kids will want candy on Halloween.
Before you comment out the whazoo telling me that all you do have to do is put your mind to it, there are many more variables than that involved, and putting your mind to it is just step one.
Step two is now not reading silly articles that profess to have a simple answer to an age-old very complicated problem for millions.??
Tags: health, weight loss
Posted
October 27, 2006 at
5:40 am by
Prescott
The monk from The Da Vinci CodeΒ
Lou Dobbs
14th century French philosopher Francis of Marchia
Dick Cheney
An illegal immigrant
Google
Maddox Jolie
A living tableau honoring the fallen heroes of World War II
Β
Bill Gates
The 13th and most underrated president of the United States, Millard Fillmore
Hobo
Tags: costumes, Halloween, Parenting
Posted
October 25, 2006 at
4:01 pm by
Stacy
Before people start throwing rocks at me, I’d like to go on record as saying that I know that I’m a hypocrite. I didn’t need to be told because I figured it out all on my own. But… I’m in good company because we, all of us on this great planet, fail on a daily basis to completely “hold the line” when we presume to stand for some great cause.
I could make a laundry list of well-known people who speak out of both sides of their mouths, but that would take more energy that I’ve got at the moment. Besides, you can watch FOX NEWs anytime you want and save me the trouble. For my own part, I catch myself in moments of duplicity all the time, but one that comes to mind right now is my stance on eating meat.
I love meat. I’ll never be a vegetarian, though I have quite a few friends who live happily by that philosophy. It doesn’t bother me. In spite of the fact that I eat beef, chicken, venison, and pork, I also consider myself a person in favor of treating animals ethically. (Like I said…I’m a hypocrite) I watch “Animal Planet” with my kids and frequently wish a slow and painful death upon the idiots of this world who mistreat the animals entrusted to their care. I suppose this cancels out the fact that I also think of myself as a fairly humane person (albeit one who wishes death on certain people) and I delude myself into believing this because I don’t wear fur. See? I’m all over the place with regard to animals, but I live in Texas, for pity’s sake. Wearing fur here is nothing more than an affectation. A wasteful affectation, if you ask me.
But I’m here to talk about meat and, after reading today’s New York Times, I want to address the kinds of lives animals live right up until the moment they walk toward the great white light and wind up on a styrofoam square covered with cellophane. But first– get a load of this:
“ Whole Foods Market is preparing to roll out a line of meats that will carry labels saying ‘ANIMAL COMPASSIONATE,’ indicating that the animals were raised in a humane manner until they were slaughtered.” You know…just to let us know the cows were happy in their final hours.
I’m sorry, but I think this kind labeling is just a little silly. I’m all for treating cows well. This also goes for any other animals who patiently stand in line one day after lunch only to be surprised by a unpleasant jolt from a stun gun. But the fact that we’re breeding these animals in order to kill them later on is just a fact….an ugly one but a fact nonetheless. A note from the rancher confessing that he sang them a medley of Rosemary Clooney songs right before he pulled the trigger isn’t going to make me feel better about the process. What’s next? Maybe the fine print on the meat labels will look something like this:
To our customer:
Let us take a moment to reflect upon the life lived by your rump roast of choice, Mavis. She was treated, like all the ungulates purchased by SwiftPro Foods, with dignity and respect. She spent her days walking freely about our 10,000 acre compound while munching on natural grasses, having a conjugal visit with her special friend Ernesto, or napping peacefully in a semi-private stall that was painted in complimentary hues of cream and soft yellow and well stocked with aromatherapy candles. Mavis’ handlers spoke to her only in dulcet tones and, on occasion, read aloud to her from the works of Emily Dickenson and Edna St. Vincent Millay. Mavis enjoyed a good massage and submitted herself twice weekly to the skilled hands of our in-house therapist, Dave. She was a cow with a well-formed sense of humor and watching reruns of Seinfeld helped her to understand the irony of her own existence–one in which she was cared for and nurtured lovingly, only to be killed and rendered for the benefit of carnivores like yourself. Mavis, like many cows, wasn’t all that smart was resigned to her fate and we feel fairly confident that, had she not been forced into service, she would have given her life gladly for a cause she barely understood. Perhaps that’s because we kept it a secret from her. That’s how much we care. At SwiftPro foods, we think of Mavis as a hero..a patriot. And as she walked bravely and seemingly unaware towards her fate (To the strains of “Morning Mood” from the Peer Gynt Suite No. 1 Op.46…a Mavis favorite) we knew that our complete and utter dedication to her happiness and well-being would result in one damn fine filet. Call me a silly romantic, but I believe the way she rolled her eye at me just before she fell through the chute was a kind of “thank you” for all we do to keep our cows contented. Or maybe that’s just the way cows look after they’ve been stunned. Either way…enjoy your meal.
Gary (Mavis’ life coach) SwiftPro Foods.
Yeah…I feel better about eating meat already.
Tags: food processing, happy cows, meat, vegetarianism
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