I'm working around the clock these days, interspersed with random snippets of Nolan and a lot of tortilla chips and suspicious cheese dip. I've been remiss on my blog reading, but last weekend, my interest in the state of the Momosphere was renewed after the random visit of a blog friend.
Angella was a reader of my personal blog back in the days of its existence, and her insightful comments and bubbly insight prompted my interest in her blog. She lives with her gorgeous family in the interior of my home province: a place filled with sunshine and peach trees and rolling green hills. I met up with her for a coffee and a chat, and, even though I'm a bit of a guarded introvert, I found myself chatting comfortably with her like I've known her for years. Her blog, Dutch Blitz, is worth a gander for the pictures of her gorgeous kidlets, the sunny slopes of her hometown gleaming in the background. The woman has a heart you can see in her eyes and I am better for having met her.
Onward! Angella told me about some of her best blog friends, some of whom I read religiously, some of whom are new to me. Kerflop is a name I've heard before around the blogosphere, but hadn't yet added to my bloglines. Well, now I have. I developed a blog crush on her just after reading a few lines of her about page: My husband and I have three adorable, gifted, and talented children. All of which we deeply feel are way more adorable, gifted, and talented than yours." She's also a professional quitter. And a talented writer, I'm looking forward to more.
Finally, after talking with Angella I decided to re-emerge myself in Whoorl, who I have read and admired sporadically in past. If you are as out of the blog loop as I am, you may not know that Whoorl has a Hair Project, which involves neither furballs nor spreadsheets. It's a collage of blog reader good hair days, which is actually way more fascinating than it sounds. Who knew the Internet was so pretty?
Happy weekend, everyone, and to my fellow Canucks, happy Canada Day, eh?
Oh MY GOD. Today, and especially this morning, has been nearly as insane as when I went into labor. I know it's my first time traveling with an infant and everything, but I think I might lose my mind if I don't get to take a shower and just go to bed.
We didn't pull into our destination of Cleveland until after 7:00 PM. My husband thought (rather foolishly) that we'd be in around 3:00 PM. I knew we'd never make such good time, even if we had gotten out early like we planned to (but didn't) but I still thought we'd make it in sooner than that. It was still light out, though, so that's a plus.
Another plus is that the baby slept through the night for the first time ever. Of course we were counting on him to wake us up between 3:00 and 4:00 AM like he always does so we could get an early start, but he obligingly slept all the way to 5:00 AM! Normally I would be ecstatic. Instead I was well rested and totally late.
Even though I spent the better part of two days planning and packing for this trip we still managed to be completely consumed by chaos this morning. I had to feed the baby and pump and then re-sterilize the breastfeeding equipment since we didn't know if our hotel room would have a microwave for the sterilization equipment (it's Avent and I LOVE it. So much better than boiling).
And that was if we actually made it to Cleveland. I wasn't 100% convinced we'd get out of Manhattan.
We're mere weeks away from full-blown Potter-mania, when the series' final novel will hit bookstores, and the 5th movie will be released in theaters. The questions are mounting -- how will it all end? Who's going to die? What will the stars be wearing?
But perhaps the oddest addition to the growing hysteria is the recent news that Harvard Summer School and the Harvard Square Business Association are organizing "the most grand celebration of literature in Harvard history" -- part of which, will be the renaming of Harvard Square...to Hogwarts Square.
Granted, the Harry Potter books are unbelievably popular around the globe, I'm not sure they're worthy of the "most grand celebration" in Harvard's history. In explaining the seemingly random act, which will include music from the band, Harry & the Potters, and a scavenger hunt for owls and bats at the Harvard Museum of Natural History, Denise Jillson, director of the Harvard Square association said: "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and the hallowed halls of Harvard" (which is a pretty weak connection if you ask me).
It's just further proof that J.K. Rowling and her Potter empire are slowly taking over the world.
A couple of days ago i did something I had been putting off for over eight years, I bought a new swimsuit. My last suit was missing some trim, had small tears in the middle and the elastic in the bosom area could no longer contain my top half. My 10 year-old daughter Cassidy, the proud owner of at least four swimsuits, mentioned that since we were venturing out to the pool I might need to wear something more appropriate. Normally I would have made a million excuses about why I couldn't buy a suit: the expense, the many other things I absolutely need to buy, the alignment of the planets. But for some reason the planets must have been sending alternate messages because I agreed with her.
When we entered the swimsuit store and headed toward the back of the store, the part where the sizes run only in double digits, I again felt a twinge of anxiety about the plan. I remembered fondly my days in a size six and how pleasing I felt. But I soldiered on to the bigger racks. Cassidy was a trooper and helped me compile a hefty pile of suits while my youngest, Devon, crawled about under the clothing racks making dinosaur sounds. Then came the challenge of actually donning them and facing the mirror.
Turns out the whole experience wasn't nearly as bad as I had been anticipating. Since I had been realistic about my size when choosing the suits, I didn't have to stuff my bits and pieces into something that simply had no chance of accommodating them. There was the occasional cringe when Cass would holler from one of the racks as she chose another suit for me, "Was that a size 14 or 16, mom?" My final choice was a two piece tank suit with a mini skirt attached to the bottom. It is slightly granny-esque, but the under wire bra and plumeria print make up for that aspect. Plus the mini skirt relieves me of my poochy mommy tummy insecurities and will ensure that I will actually go to the pool with my kids in the light of the day.
Today's Image of the Day, taken by North Idaho Dad, took me right back to when I was just about her age, riding around Lake Texoma in my Poppa's boat. Course, Lake Texoma doesn't have those stunning canyons, but I did catch and release a lot of fish! I love how we get to share the view with the girl in the photo, and the reflection of the canyon and sky on the window of the boat is really nice, too. When we photograph children, we are recording parts of their story. Someday when this girl is grown up, she'll see this picture and think Oh, yeah, I remember that summer. . .
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The "lucky" guy, and presumed father of the as-of-yet-unconfirmed mini-Richie is Joel Madden from the band, Good Charlotte. His band isn't performing much in July, which has led to speculations that the wedding might happen as soon as next month.
They'll have to do it soon, in any case. If the rumors are true, whatever super-small wedding dress Richie picks out won't fit for long.
Those who live in southeast Texas are all too familiar with the damage a hurricane can do to their homes and loved ones. But what isn't so obvious is the psychological damage that remains long after the wind and rain has died down.
Researchers at University of Texas Health Science Center say that teenagers who live in this area of Texas are more likely to smoke cigarettes if they, or a member of their family, were affected by Hurricanes Rita or Katrina.
They surveyed more than 5,100 middle school and high school students in Jefferson County six to nine months after hurricanes Katrina and Rita made landfall in 2005. What they found was that almost 38 percent of those who had a family member hurt or killed in the hurricanes were now smoking. Of the kids who did not have family members affected by the hurricanes, only 13 percent admitted to smoking. Students whose homes were damaged or destroyed, or who had family or friends whose homes were damaged or destroyed, also had higher rates of smoking.
According to Alfred L. McAlister, the author of the study, these storms "had an emotional impact on the youth" that has resulted in many of them using tobacco as a crutch. Tobacco being what it is, these teens become addicted.
"Raised stress levels lead to more smoking," he said. "It was not shocking to find that relationship after the hurricanes."
If you have ever watched the reality TV show The Girls Next Door then you know that 81-year-old Hugh Hefner lives in his Playboy Mansion with three girlfriends. To me, his ladies seem a bit like caricatures; Kendra Wilkinson is the hot tomboy, Bridget Marquardt is the sweet one, and Holly Madison, the relatively smart one. Maybe that's just me.
Madison is also the one who shares Hef's bed each night (at least on the show) and she has made no secret of her desire to become a mother and have a more normal life with Hefner. She claims he is the best lover she ever had and was recently quoted as saying "I want to have kids with Hef in the next year or so and when that happens I just want it to be me and him."
It seems that she just may get her wish. Rumors were swirling at the Monte Carlo Television Festival that Madison is pregnant with Hefner's 5th child. She missed Kendra's birthday bash, has been steering clear of alcohol and is engaging in a lot of baby talk.
An insider says, "While the other girls hit parties wearing next to nothing and looking all glamorous, Holly stayed covered up and in the background. She even wore a jacket for many of her interviews."
A jacket? Well, if that doesn't say pregnant, I don't know what does. And that hat. Her choice of head-wear has got to be the result of crazy hormones, right?
For a union that had so many celebrity gawkers betting on its demise from the onset, the Federline-Spears divorce has dragged on beyond many expectations. The latest update from Team Federline is that the hopeful rap star is hesitant to put ink to the papers lest Spears begin acting in a way that would be inappropriate or harmful to the couple's two small children. If Spears does begin another downward spiral, Federline is hoping that he can restrict her time with the kids without too many legal complications.
For those who have watched the Federline-Spears trainwreck, it is somewhat surprising to see Kevin step up and be the one who appears responsible and levelheaded. But there are children involved in this union and if he can be a good dad, then more power to him.
That final step of signing the papers is a weighty one. Regardless of what is at stake, that signature represents the end to what was. In the Federline-Spears case it seems the effort was doomed from the get go, but for many couples that end is letting go of hopes and dreams for a life that no longer exists.
Though I generally view you as an evil multinational corporation, who would rather dye its cherries with potentially carcinogenic red dye than sacrifice sales of fruit cocktail, I have to admit that we're a little bit addicted to your Real Fruit bars/popsicles.
First off, the whole "real fruit" concept. I like it. Even though it's from concentrate and there's nothing in your ingredients or packaging that really makes me feel you have to be totally truthful about this, I buy it. I ignore the little voice in my head that asks, who's picking the fruit? What pesticides are they spraying on said fruit, thereby contaminating the bloodstreams and water streams of poor farmers with? I just think, real fruit! Better than dye coloured frozen water!
Oh sure, I could avoid all this by just making my own popsicles at home. But let's face it -- the handles on the Ikea popsicle forms I bought are flimsy. No matter how good a juice I buy, eventually the homemade popsicle becomes a juiceless wad of ice on a flimsy stick.
Oh DM, your flavours are so inventive. Raspberry/Blackberry or Mango/Peach? Heaven on a stick! Blueberry/Pomegranate? How did you know? Don't answer that. I know how you know. You have a lot of money to put towards researching someone just like me. And now, neither I, nor my family can imagine a summer without you.
Sincerely,
Pregnant Mama (with an internal fire that only your popsicles can put out.)
76-year-old Laura Stevens thinks that some of her fellow bus riders in Logan, Utah have too many children and isn't hesitant to tell them so. She's been doling out unsolicited advice about birth control to mothers in the bus station who she feels might not be aware of their contraceptive choices.
Her intrusion into the very personal choices of others led Todd Beutler, general manager of the Cache Valley Transit District, to have her arrested for trespassing and banned from the bus station. "She's been making comments to some of the Hispanic passengers that they should be on the pill, that they're taking over our society," he said.
Stevens thinks the ban violates her First Amendment rights and plans to fight the trespassing charge. Speaking about a mother she saw struggling with her six children, Stevens says "I felt sorry for her. Maybe she doesn't know that she could get a patch and not have a kid for five years."
Since this woman is so keen on giving advice to others, maybe she won't mind if I give her a little advice of my own: mind your own business.
By they way, that's not Stevens in the photo, but don't you imagine it could be?
I remember nursing Nate for what seemed like an eternity -- though I'm well aware 14 months is far from an eternity. I recall being totally excited when he was eating enough solids, because I had stopped leaking. I (mistakenly) took this as a sign to bust out my sexy non-nursing bras.
After I was done nursing, my breast shrunk back to teeny A cups and those once-seductive bras were deformed and milk-stained. But I couldn't help it -- I hated the look of the nursing bras I had. While the comfort of Canadian Bravado bras were cute and supremely comfortable, they lacked the light padding I need to keep the world from staring at my monstrous nips.
Susan Wagner, a ParentDish columnist and a fashionista in her own right, has a spidey sense about these things and sent me a link to this post at One Chic Mama. It seems that breastfeeding champions, La Leche League, are now offering nursing bras. So of course I had to go over to the LLLi site right away. Some are cute, (like the one pictured) some have the potential to be very sexy!
"Seamless microfiber padded plunge nursing bra has a low center gore with underwire support. Drop cup with one hand buckle for nursing." OMG! This is a nursing bra? For under $30? I am over the moon at this news.
And I have good reason to stock up -- according to One Chic Mama: "LLLI recommends purchasing three nursing bras: one to wear, one for the laundry, and one to have clean and ready in your drawer."
Oh, and since it's Friday and we're talking nursing bras, I'd like to point you to this hilarious post that made me fall in love with MOM 101. Happy weekend everyone!
I've looked at the children in my daughter's class before and wondered where they'd be in the future. And, honestly, it is easy to look at them-- young children from (mostly) wealthy suburban families and figure they have the odds in their favor.
Have you ever looked at a class of young children, or even remembered your grade school years, and wondered where everyone went? How they turned out?
Now you can take a then and now look at a class from Harlem. They started Kindergarten in 1994 (I was in HIGH SCHOOL!) and just finished high school this year. The stories are as different as the kids. One became involved in a gang until his worried mother withdrew him from school. One landed in jail for a crime he didn't commit and now is going to college to become a lawyer. One of the girls had both parents murdered by the time she turned 10 while another student is majoring in physics at Carnegie Mellon University.
There's aspiring rappers and actresses and a young father. There's also families who sacrificed much to see a child succeed and teachers who helped pave the way.
Last December, I wrote about the Moms for Modesty movement which was concerned with the over-sexualization of girls' clothing. Unfortunately, they don't seem to have had much of an impact. Consider the case of GapKids. According to this article, they recently carried a string bikini sized to fit a twelve-month-old girl.
Mind you, at twelve months, it is, in my opinion, perfectly acceptable to run around au naturel, potty issues aside. Putting a bikini on, however, draws attention to parts that have no business being noticed at that age. Target, too, offers bikinis for the preschool set. The one pictured here is available in size XS -- a 4 or 5 in little girls' sizes.
As the article notes, there are options. Urban Kidz offers trendy clothing that isn't trashy. From what I saw, the clothing is fashionable while still being reasonable in terms of coverage. On the other hand, uGOgirlz offers T-shirts with smart but not seductive slogans intended to be an alternative to the types of shirts available elsewhere.
Still, these two are the exceptions, not the rule. Are we, as a society, over-sexualizing our children? Or is this just a case of big business pushing a trend no one really wants?
When people find out my little ones (ages 1 and 2) are 18 months apart, I hear two things. First is "ooh. Ooooh." The second, after they've managed to find something positive, is "They're going to be so close!"
Having two children close in age presents a variety of unique challenges in itself. I don't dare compare it to twins, because that is a totally different ballgame, but our situation is different than many others. For awhile after #2 came along, I had two babies. A newborn and a 1-year-old. A walker and a loafer.
Now? I have a hitter and a screamer. A pusher and a shover. A hair-puller and a hair-pullee. Ahh. Parenthood.
How I deal with their actions depends on the day to day. Am I tired? Stressed? In a hurry? Good mood? What can seem like innocent sibling squabbling on one day is grounds for banishment the next. My husband and I tend to have different ways of dealing with the action, especially if we're busy.
Say we're cleaning up from dinner and the TV is off. He'll beg for me to plop them in front of the tube so we can get things done. I say no way, they're not watching TV right now. They're "playing." Interacting. Learning the ins and outs of this sibling thing.
It is just that my 18-month-old is in the boundary pushing phase (oh 18-month-old boundary pushing phase, how I won't miss you) and my almost 3-year-old isn't up for that... unless she wants to wrestle.
Parents of close children...how have you handled this? Sure, they're going to be good friends...but what do we do in the meantime?
I'm working around the clock these days, interspersed with random snippets of Nolan and a lot of tortilla chips and suspicious cheese dip. I've been remiss on my blog reading, but last weekend, my interest in the state of the Momosphere was renewed after the random visit of a blog friend.
We're mere weeks away from full-blown Potter-mania, when the series' final novel will hit bookstores, and the 5th movie will be released in theaters. The questions are mounting -- how will it all end? 
A couple of days ago i did something I had been putting off for over eight years, I bought a new swimsuit. My last suit was missing some trim, had small tears in the middle and the elastic in the bosom area could no longer contain my top half. My 10 year-old daughter Cassidy, the proud owner of at least four swimsuits, mentioned that since we were venturing out to the pool I might need to wear something more appropriate. Normally I would have made a million excuses about why I couldn't buy a suit: the expense, the many other things I absolutely need to buy, the alignment of the planets. But for some reason the planets must have been sending alternate messages because I agreed with her.
For a couple weeks now, rumors have been circulating that the shockingly skinny 
Those who live in southeast Texas are all too familiar with the damage a hurricane can do to their homes and loved ones. But what isn't so obvious is the psychological damage that remains long after the wind and rain has died down.
If you have ever watched the reality TV show 
For a union that had so many celebrity gawkers betting on its demise from the onset, the 
Dear 
76-year-old Laura Stevens thinks that some of her fellow bus riders in Logan, Utah have too many children and isn't hesitant to tell them so. She's been doling out 
I remember nursing Nate for what seemed like an eternity -- though I'm well aware 14 months is far from an eternity. I recall being totally excited when he was eating enough solids, because I had stopped leaking. I (mistakenly) took this as a sign to bust out my sexy non-nursing bras. 
Last December, I wrote about the 
When people find out my little ones (ages 1 and 2) are 18 months apart, I hear two things. First is "ooh. Ooooh." The second, after they've managed to find something positive, is "They're going to be so close!"
