Jun 11 2013
I was just shy of 23 years old when my first son was born. That meant that the sole people I viewed as role models were my mother, who had my sister when I was 13, and a handful of friends, who had children practically right after high school.
When it came to the issue of breastfeeding, they are the ones I turned to as examples. My birth class teacher was somewhat of a hippy, who informed all of us new mothers-to-be that a year of nursing is the absolute minimum. I had stared at her in shock as I heard these words, certain that I would only last six months or so as the mothers I knew had done. It was only when I held my little boy in my arms for the first time and tried to get him to latch on that I truly began to discover what breastfeeding was all about and what it entailed. Read the rest of this entry →
Apr 30 2013
Charly’s turning 9 months old next week–she’s been in the world longer then she was growing in my belly!
Now that I’m back at work full time, it feels like months are literally zipping by. I’m trying to treasure every moment, but everything is starting to become a big blur. It feels like any moment I’ll have to start planning her first birthday (and I’ll admit, I’ve already been filling up my Pinterest board with ideas). Every day she grows cuter and cuter, does more and more new things, and finds new ways keeps us on our toes. With four little teeth coming in and her finally mastering the art of crawling, I tend to think my baby is AMAZING!
Read the rest of this entry →
Mar 5 2013
Dear Mom in Music Class,
For a brief second last week, I wanted to punch you in the face. True story.
Sure, I’m an overtired and overworked mom of four kids. I’ll concede that maybe I was a little closer to the tipping point than a normal, well-rested human being would be.
But when I came into the room and said “Hi!” to you, and you slowly and deliberately looked me up and down and then turned back to your friend, not saying hi, there was A Moment.
It was the kind of moment in which crimes are committed: a blinding flash of red rage that makes ears hot and blood boil. It was brief, and then it passed.
But in that moment, I swear: I wanted to put down my toddler, walk over to you and Punch. You. In. The Face. In my mind, I ran through a scenario that made that scene with Lucy Liu and Uma Thurman in Kill Bill look…well, like toddler music class.
In my brain, I Quentin Tarantinoed your ass. Read the rest of this entry →
Jan 11 2013
“Are you the oldest mom there?” a friend asked me as we walked to the elementary school to pick up our sons. At least, I think she’s my friend. (Just kidding, Michelle!)
She was asking about the “Mommy and Me” classes I go to with 18-month-old Baby G. You know the kind of classes I’m talking about. They’re the ones where the kids shake/chew on bells that are both musical and receptacles for vomity viruses. They’re the ones where the instructors are often ignored by the moms in the class, who busily and loudly chat with each other (kinda rude, no?). They’re the ones where the instructors say things like, “Do you know how to say hello IN FRENCH?” to the kids, and you’re thinking, “Um, the kid just figured out how to say hello in her native language–let’s take a little pressure off, shall we?” Read the rest of this entry →
Oct 24 2012
It’s funny how perspective can change in the blink of an eye (or in this case, 14 hours of labor). Before having my son, I thought my 3-year-old was still a baby. She was so little! She could barely do anything!
But then I had a baby. And when you compare a 3-year-old to an infant, that 3-year-old is like a giant. Not only can she walk, she can run, trip, scrape her knees, and shake it off. Not only can she talk, but she can express an argument as to why she should really be allowed to watch one more TV show. She can open the refrigerator, get out her own string cheese, and pull it into strings. Meanwhile, the baby really just sits there (though he’s an excellent smiler these days!) Read the rest of this entry →
Apr 24 2012
Last week, Renee Septimus shared her feelings about parents who are frequently texting around their kids. Here’s a look at the other side of the story.
If anyone had walked past my neighbor’s yard last Friday morning, they would have seen six kids under the age of 4 and three mamas. Two of those mamas were holding babies and pushing swings, and the third was on her cell phone. A lot.
The third mama was me. I spent much of the morning on my phone, talking to my family on the west coast. My mother had fractured her arm, and the last time this happened, she nearly died from complications related to the pain medication they gave her. Anyone walking by would have no way of knowing this. Read the rest of this entry →
Apr 17 2012
It was hot yesterday–serious, in-the-upper-80′s hot. Not normal for suburban New Jersey in mid-April. I haven’t put the winter coats away that we were wearing last week. I can’t keep up with the weather, and can’t sort my kids’ drawers and closets: after all, tomorrow may bring either a blizzard or a typhoon. So clothing for every temperature is easily within reach of each of my kids’ grasps. (Fine, not the baby’s.)
My younger son, R, came dancing downstairs to breakfast in shorts and a t-shirt. My older one, Z, came down more slowly in a t-shirt and jeans.
“Hey, you might want to change into shorts,” I said over my shoulder as I made coffee. “It’s going to be really hot today.” Read the rest of this entry →
Feb 2 2012
Is my stroller good enough for you?
Renee Septimus’ article “Enough Already with the Mommy Wars” about the battle between stay-at-home and work-outside-the-home moms (because we are all working moms) got me thinking about judgment. It makes me cringe to think of how critical moms can be of one another’s career choices, and it extends beyond paychecks. If you don’t have the right car seat/stroller/enrichment class, other moms might smile (out of sympathy?) to your face and then badmouth you to anyone who will listen.
My answer to, “What do you do?” is, “As much as I can.” My first job and priority is SAHM. After that, I am a freelance journalist, and I teach group cycling classes at local gyms. I work when my daughter sleeps or is at preschool. When she is around, she has my (mostly) undivided attention. Read the rest of this entry →
Nov 21 2011
I took my little one to get his hair cut last week. I wanted so badly to wait until his third birthday for an upsherin but having him mistaken for a girl (or worse – Justin Bieber) was starting to get to my husband. I cannot fathom a day when the clippers come out to buzz my little boy, but a trim was in order. Once he was done, I plopped him in the stroller and headed to the desk. A middle-aged woman sitting in the waiting area looked down at him and said, “Did this little boy just get a haircut? It must have been really long, because it’s still kind of… long.”
I chose to ignore the comment but watched as she surveyed him from his hair all the way down his body. Her eyes widened in horror once she reached his dangling feet.
“I’m not a neglectful mother if that’s what you’re thinking,” I said. “He just refuses to wear shoes right now.”
She gasped. “Well, (harumph!) At least the boy has socks on. I see these mothers running around in the cold all bundled up while their poor baby has bare toes.”
I thought about keeping my mouth shut and quietly leaving. Clearly this lady needed to be punched was a barrel of fun, but I added this before walking out: Read the rest of this entry →
Aug 2 2011
Christina Applegate made a video about prenatal pole dancing.
A few years back when I was working as a freelancer, I took an assignment offered to me by the New York Post‘s Page Six Magazine. I will justify writing for them this way: $2 per word. The article I was asked to write was about the crazy things that a certain set of Manhattan ladies do to avoid getting fat while pregnant. At the time I was in my late 20s and the idea of pregnancy was about as foreign as say, exotic dancing. And here’s where these two seemingly disparate things overlap.
I managed to find a sweet, unsuspecting pregnant lady who was pole dancing while the fetus inside her was growing. I was invited to the class though I was told there was no watching. Only participating. So, there I was, in the basement of a synagogue where the studio had set up their overflow class (this is weird, I know, and what must the rabbi think?) watching a woman eight months pregnant swing around a pole in sweaty darkness to Prince’s “Sexy M.F.”
Needless to say, she was an easy target. A pregnant woman! Being sexy! Dancing around a pole! The gall! I wrote the piece and the tone was nothing short of nasty. And the editors (always blame the editors!) made it all the nastier. And when the piece came out I felt bad. Very bad. And then several years later when I was pregnant, I felt like a big old jerk. Who was I to judge?
I think about this a lot these days. In the world of mommying it seems there’s a whole lot of judging going around. And I just sometimes think that everybody should just take a big breath and mind their own business.
So, the next time you see a pole dancing pregnant lady, just remember that.