Oblivious

Ok, so tonight I was going to blog about how my thighs touch (ridiculously obvious after our bike ride tonight), riveting stuff here, I know, but then we had a late dinner and we witnessed an utterly oblivious mom. Jon and I just sat there, speechless. (Quite frankly, I'm amazed that Jon didn't offer to teach her how to discipline her children. I can only imagine the amount of restraint he practiced.

It started when we were walking in, the mother of a teenager and 2 younger (maybe 7 & 2) girls was walking in before us. She looks down at the youngest and says "Ugh, where are your shoes? You can't go in without shoes." Ok, that's not bad. I see how that happens, especially with Moose's tendency to lose his flip flops.

After we order, we decide to sit outside (mainly because it was like a meat locker inside). The teenage daughter was already sitting outside with the two younger girls. The teenager was texting or facebooking or something, regardless, she was completely ignoring the girls who were playing in the bushes, pulling off limbs (not just leaves) and throwing them in the outside dining area.

Soon the mom made it out and put their food on the table. The youngest immediately grabbed her moms bowl of food and dumped it on the table. The teen never even looked up and the mom yelled at the little girl. The mom went back in and got more food and came back out. She sat down and started talking to the teenager. While she was talking, the youngest wast literally climbing up the pole of the big umbrella cover our 2 tables. The middle child was dipping her fingers in her sour cream and was painting her whole side of the table. The youngest sits down and starts crumpling up napkins and throwing them across the area.

The mom kept talking to the teenager, never even looked at the little ones. The middle child asked the mom a question about 5 times and the mom never even acknowledged that she was talking. The middle one then said "I just don't know why you can't answer me." The youngest came back to the umbrella pole and continued climbing. Then the middle child walked to their car and the youngest followed. This time the teenager yelled for her to stop (she didn't) then chased after her, brought her back, tossed her on the moms lap and said "Here's your flippin' kid".

At this point, the mom was doing something on her phone and refused to look up for anything. The youngest was bouncing from table to table, trying to follow her sister back into the restaurant. Once or twice the mom called her name and asked her to stop without looking up from her phone. At one point the youngest was walking back to the outdoor dining area from their truck by herself while her mom was still on her phone at the table. No one was watching her at this point. Then she sat back down and started breaking up her chips and throwing them on the floor while the 7 year old was flinging her food with her fork.

We were completely in shock. I mean, I totally understand being overwhelmed and frustrated, but this woman didn't seem like that at all, she was just oblivious. Whatever was on her phone was more important that even the safety of her kids. Maybe I'm just a helicopter mom because I don't take my eye off of Moose when we are out and he certainly isn't allowed to go anywhere without us out in public.

I know, that there are two sides to every story, maybe she was having a bad day, maybe she was texting about something very important (I doubt it though, because a couple times she mentioned the "drama" she was dealing with from earlier), but for the sake of those around you who have also paid to eat out, please keep an eye on your children and try (or at least pretend) to keep them under control.

I'm sorry if I sound unreasonable and/or judgmental, but you just had to see it to grasp the ridiculousness of it.

to the moon and back,

Parenting Woes...

I'm a bad parent. "No, Jen, not you..." Yes me... Why you ask, oh because I choose to limit my child's sugar intake, because I choose to discipline him when he misbehaves, because I want him to eat more fruits and veggies than processed foods/fast foods, because I give him Motrin when he has a fever, because I had him circumcised, because I had him vaccinated, and so on and so on.... {insert sarcasm font}

Motherhood is the most amazing thing I have ever experienced, however, one thing that I have noticed is how catty and passive aggressive other moms can get. I belong to an online parenting board that is comprised of other women who became moms the same time I did. When I joined it, I thought "Great! I can share stories and get tips and such!" Umm, not so much. At first they were all like "Oh, yay, we're pregnant!" then it soon became "What? You're not going to co-sleep? Your child is going to feel unloved and insecure." "What? You aren't going to chew up your baby's food first and feed it like a little bird? Your child is going to choke!" Seriously?? I don't care how you raise your child (as long as you aren't beating him/her), why would you judge me and my choices? "Oh my gosh, you're going back to work? Your son's going to have abandonment issues." Um, no he's going to have food on the table, clothes on his back and a roof over his head.

Why is it that everyone else knows the best way to raise your kid? The one thing that I have learned since having a child is that every decision (no matter how big or small) that I make for Moose is wrong in someones mind. There are such varying opinions on every subject and everyone feels so strongly about their own, why can't we just let parents choose for themselves?

My hubby and chose the, get this, "cry it out method". "Oh, no she didn't *snap*! Don't she know that's abuse?" (yes, I realize the grammar choices I made in that quote, and just so you know, I wrote it in the best ghetto accent I have as well). Ummm, no it wasn't abuse, at least not in our case. Moose only had to do it once or twice and he has never had a problem since. Anyone who knows Moose, knows that he is a very well adjusted 3 & 1/2 year old. We also gave him a pacie and he wasn't exclusively breastfed. Oh no, call DCFS before something terrible happens!

My point it, opinions are great, but not when the only reason they are voiced is to make someone else feel like less of a person. I may not agree with all of your parenting choices, but guess what? It doesn't matter, because YOU are the parent and you have the right to those choices.

So, in conclusion, circumcise or don't, co-sleep or don't, wear your baby or don't, breastfeed or don't, vaccinate or don't, spank or don't, feed your baby like a bird or don't, I won't judge you so please don't judge me.

At least you aren't this guy... I mean really, look at that mullet, that little boy has no chance... ;)

Disclaimer: I don't know who these people are, I found the pic on google.

to the moon and back,

Potty training, schmotty training

Now, I'm the girl who cries at every pivotal (and if we are being totally honest, not so pivotal) moment in Moose's life. He's growing up way to fast for me and every milestone means we are one day closer to adolescence, where I will know nothing and he will know everything and not need me anymore. This current milestone, though, is one that I am ready to be done with... Potty Training.

Boo... That's all I have to say. Boo to potty training.

Moose will be 3 in September and we have been potty training for a few months now. Initially we did the naked method. I have to say, it worked really well to get him recognizing the act of potty-ing.

Most days he does great (nights are a different story, even with cutting off drinks at 7 and putting a diaper on him, there are mornings where it's like he got up and went swimming in his p-jammers and then climbed back into bed). I'll hear, "Mommy, I think I have to go potty."

But, then there are those days (which seem to be the days where I am already at my wits end) that he just doesn't think he needs to use the big boy potty. "Mommy, do I have a diaper on?" "No dear, you never have a diaper on during the day anymore. Did you potty?" "Yeah..." (insert frowny face here). "I poopied mommy." (insert major frowny face here).

Then there's me asking "Moose, do you have to potty?" "Mmm, nope!" again, "Moose, let's try to go potty" "But I don't have to go." Then two minutes later, "Mommy, my feet are cold." Really? Could that be because you are standing in a puddle of pee?

Naps are the same. Some days he will take his normal 3 to 4 hour nap (he's an anomaly, I know) and wake up bone dry, but other days, he's soaked after an hour.

Then, two weeks will go by with no accidents (cue the "Hallelujah" music) and just when I think, "By Jove, I think he's got it!" we have another day filled with accidents.

Don't get me wrong, he's only 2 (I tend to forget that because he is a very big kid as well as very mature and well behaved for his age, no one believes us when we say he's not even 3) and I know that accidents happen, but there are days that I would so much rather clean up a dirty diaper than a dirty pair of underwear. Especially when we are out and about.

The part that gets me is the in-between. He's not fully potty trained, but definitely not in a diaper anymore.

This too shall pass...

to the moon and back...

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Potty Time!

Wasn't this just last week?

My baby is growing up... it's bitter sweet. I am so proud of him and I am thrilled at how he is developing, but it means he's slowly becoming a little boy and less a baby. Yes, I am one of those mothers. I cried at his first steps, I cried when he didn't need his pacie, I cry when I even think about turning his crib into a toddler bed (yes, he is still in a crib, don't judge me, he's never tried to climb out). Heck, I bawl my eyes out at the thought of him being a teenager and not needing his mommy and some teenage chick replaces me as the love of his life. Wow, that's incredibly sappy and yet, I as I typed it, my eyes started watering. I know, I'm ridiculous. Let's just accept that and move on.

Where did this wobbling 1 year old go?

The milestone that he crossed tonight was going pee-pee on the potty. Since Monday we have been working with him and trying to get him him used to the idea of going on the "big boy" potty. He has been wearing "big boy" underpants at Mamaw's and she has been encouraging him to pee in the shower and in the yard (don't ask, she lives in the country, no one can see him). Well he has managed to soak her recliner, leave puddles on the floor and create a mess on the porch at which point he quickly told her that she had to clean it up. Still no interest in the potty.

I would pick him up after work and bring him home and put him down for a nap (in a diaper) and as soon as he would wake, I'd run him to the potty (all the while feeling the warmth grow in his diaper). In the 30 seconds it took me to get him from his room to the potty, he had already gone.

Who is this little boy?? Where has the time gone?

Well, today while at my moms, he actually acknowledged when he was going. Yay! He was so excited to tell me about it when I got there to pick him up.

When he woke up from his nap today, we missed it again and he went before I got him to the potty. So I changed him and we went to a friends birthday dinner. We left the house around 5:30pm and didn't get home until around 9:00pm (we had to stop by the store). When we walked in, I said "Moose, do you need to go potty?" and he actually said "YES!"

I said "Ok, lets get to the bathroom, quick! Quick!" we ran down the hall and I got his pants off and pulled his diaper off. It was completely dry! I set him on the potty and said "Ok, you can go!" He got a huge smile on his face and said "Ok"

**Tinkle Tinkle** "Oh Moose! What's that?" He said "I'm going pee-pee!" and then squealed and got an even bigger grin on his face! He yelled for daddy to come and when the hubby got there Moose screamed "I going potty!!!"

I think we all screamed and there were high-fives thrown around and then a naked toddler running through the house asking to call everyone he knows so he can tell them. It was the most precious thing ever. To see the pride in his eyes and to see how excited he was took my breath away. I know it sounds incredibly silly to say that my son peeing on the potty would take my breath away, but if you could have seen the look on his face, it was priceless.

We have an amazing little boy, who will one day be an even more amazing man and while I want it to take a very long time getting here, I am excited to see the person he will become.

I love you, Moose....

To the moon and back,

Too close for comfort...

Last night at 11:30pm, the phone rang. Generally, by nature, a phone call at that time is not good news and this one was no different. It was my mom. She had taken my dad to the ER because he had lost sight in one of his eyes. She said he felt fine and wasn't in any pain and that the doctors said it was a stroke of the eye. She said they were going to run some more tests before they sent him home. I heard him joking in the background "Tell her to get me an eye-patch for Christmas." I told mom to tell him that he isn't funny.

Long story short, he's doing good (we think, he has more tests on Thursday), but he will most likely never regain his vision in that eye. He said it's like looking through frosted glass with a few clear spots that never seem to be in the same place.

In the past few weeks, I have had a few friends that have lost their fathers, and this brought it very close to home for me. I can't begin to comprehend what they are going through, but last night as I laid in bed after hanging up with my mom, I was terrified that I might find out.

The doctor told my dad that if the piece of plaque from his vein had gone to his brain instead of his eye, he could have had a real stroke. There is still a possibility that he might need surgery, but I pray that he doesn't.

I don't think my dad will ever realize how much I love him and how grateful I am to have him and my mom for parents. I gave him a pretty hard time (attitude-wise) when I was a teenager, but he never held it against me and always loved me, even at my most unlovable moments. I tell him I love him, but the words just don't seem to convey it properly.

I can thank him for my fondness of movies and my eclectic taste in music. I can thank him for my love of all things food, he always made me try something new. I pretty sure my creative side (graphic design) came from him, too. Lord knows it wasn't my mom, if it doesn't involve Mahjong or solitaire, she couldn't care less about it.

I am so thankful that he is ok, I hate that his vision is impaired, but it could have been so much worse. I pray that everything goes well on Thursday. I pray that this was a fluke. I pray that I don't have to deal with losing a parent... ever... Can't they just live forever? I can't imagine life without my parents. I know that day will come, but I hope it's long after I am old and gray.

I love you daddy...

Mommy-hood Changes Things...

...and that's great. In fact that is the way it should be if everyone would take it seriously. But I feel as though there are an aweful lot of mommies out there that sugar coat being a mom. In my opinion, not all things about being a mommy are peaches and cream and I feel like it's taboo to talk about that.

Having Moose was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. He is the coolest little guy I have ever met and he just gets cooler by the day, but being a mom (a good mom, a REAL mom) is hard work. It's taxing, totally self-less and at times, it's no fun (gasp... did she just say that?). Yes, I did. You always hear other moms say, "Oh, it's different when it's your own child." Yea, it is, the difference is, at the end of the day, that baby is your sole responsibility and no one elses (aside from their dads) and they have to go home with you!

No matter how much a child is planned, I really don't think that there is anything that can prepare you for what you are about to embark on. It helps to have a great support system of family and friends to lean on, cry with and ask for help, but still at the end of the day, that baby goes home with you. As much as I love Moose and as great as he is, when I left the hospital with him, I had no idea what to do with him. I was totally lost and grasping at straws. In fact, when we walked into the house with him for the first time, I looked at Jon and asked "What do we do with him now? Do we hold him? Feed him? Lay him down? Put him in his swing? Take him back to the hospital and ask for an instruction manual?" I think we eventually opted for just staring at him hoping the answer would come to us!

In my situation, I do feel like part of the joy was stolen from me by postpartum because I didn't feel that instant connection to him. In fact, there were times in the beginning where it was so overwhelming that I thought my life was just over and things would never be the same and I couldn't imagine what I had gotten myself into. I was half right, my life would never be the same, in most all ways it would be way better than ever before.

I am the baby of the family (a bit spoiled, I admit... ok a lot spoiled, but that't not the point) and I didn't grow up around babies. My sister is 8 years older than me and when she had her first child, I was a self-involved teenager wrapped up in my highschool sweetheart who was stationed in Germany in the Army, so I wasn't around much to help with her new baby. When she had her second child, I was still pretty much a newly-wed totally engulfed with being a wife, so even though I was around the second one more, it still wasn't much and that was over 10 years ago. Point is, I had no idea what to do with a baby and I know I'm not the only one. My hubby had never even held an infant until Moose was born. We were definitely the blind leading the blind!

I remember the first couple of weeks actually dreading sunset. Why, you ask? Because I hated the night. Nighttime meant we would be on our own until at least morning. No more curious friends and family members stopping by. He would be all ours for the next 14 or so hours, no help, and that scared the crap out of me. What if he starts choking while he is sleeping? What if we don't know what to do? And heaven forbid, what if he just stops breathing. Yes, the night held a whole new world of uncertainty.

The daytime brought a million more questions that I didn't have the answers for, schedules, feedings, rashes, teething, etc...

The only thing about parenting that I know without a shadow of a doubt is that no decision I make every totally feels like the right one!