Let's keep Halloween the way it is

Last night Isabella dressed up as a pretty impressive Zombie (I did her makeup, trust me it’s impressive). She nervously walked to the first house and stood timidly at the door. After some encouragement from Johnny and me she knocked ever so quietly and stood patiently waiting for the door to open. Once it did, she said “Trick or Treat” and then “Thank You” as the homeowner placed several treats in her plastic pumpkin bucket. What a rush she must have felt because after that first house there was no stopping her! “This way, they have a light on.” We got home, she ate 3 pieces of candy, and she went to bed.

It was a pretty good night.

And then social media happened...

“Kids shouldn’t be dressing up at school...   Let’s take the candy away and have healthy parties instead of trick or treating...  Candy is making our kids fat...”

If you are the kind of parent that has a kid who can’t self regulate then sure, maybe the 40 mini Snickers you allow them to eat in one night is unhealthy and adding to the problem of childhood obesity. When did it become okay to dictate how other people raise their kids? When did our generation lose their minds?

I’ve taught my daughter well enough that when I say no to more than 3 treats she says okay and the moment is over. I as her parent have set and enforced those boundaries since her first little costume went on. That is MY responsibility as her parent. Halloween is a highlight of the year for her. The excitement of seeing what the homeowner picks to put in your bag is almost as exciting as opening a Christmas present. There are 364 other days in a year that her eating habits can be closely monitored by those other than the one who gave birth to her.

Leave her and her chocolate covered costume alone!

My body... our future

We've had the talk, the one about our family's future. The one where we decide on continuing to try for a baby of our own or whether we adopt a sibling pair. It's not an easy decision, but it kinda seems cut and dry when I look at my health. I've given up most of my 20's to the steroids, and I don't want to lose any of my 30's to them too. It's been over 2 years of broken hearts and tears as each month passed, and I'm ready to take charge of my life and make my family happen. I know I'm a pretty kick ass mom and that's with my weight high and RA pretty active. I can only imagine how awesome I'd be if I were back on my real meds, if I could be active.

But it's not just my choice is it? My husband has a say, Isabella has some input too.

We have a lot to think about.

Maybe I did it wrong?

This is the story of a young me and my new baby girl. It starts in 2007, October 26th to be exact. After a quick c section I had my baby in my arms. I held her and I vowed to care for her in the best way I could. I vowed to always do what was best for her, even if it was hard for me. I had read all the books but I brushed most of it off as nonsense and made a decision to do what worked best for my little family.

"Don't let your baby cry during the night?" Please. Like I want to be one of those people who sleeps with their toddler because I've coddled her since birth and she can't sleep on her own.

"Spanking is the worst trauma you can subject your child to?" Really this one was a poorly written statement with a hippie behind the pen. We're talking about a quick open handed smack on a padded behind. I have spanked Bells on several occasions because I refuse to have a disrespectful brat grow into a disrespectful teenager and then a useless adult. 

"Never use tv as a babysitter, it can stunt their development!" Ha! Clearly the writer of this one doesn't have any kids. TV was and always will be a babysitter in my house. Not the go to a movie be home later kind of sitter, the one who will entertain my little girl while I prepare dinner on my own, or the one who will keep her occupied while I sit and suffer the anguish of an RA flare.

Because I've ignored these simple rules and many many more throughout Isabella's 6 years I now have a little girl who hates and resents me... wait no that's not right, my daughter respects and listens to me and is polite and mindful of others. Maybe I did it wrong?

TMI Tanya

I'd like to introduce you to one of the many mom's on the playground that you'll want to avoid at all costs should you by chance run into her. I personally have a hard time understanding how a lot of parents have made it this far with their hippie nonsensical ways but this mom takes the cake. 

She's TMI Tanya! 

She shares all the sad details of her custody battle with you even though you've just learned her first name. She openly bashes her ex when she is the one who comes along on a field trip instead of him. She wants your sympathy, your ultimate vote if you ever had to choose between her and him. She does all of this while her impressionable little one is within earshot, hearing her bash their dad and spewing things that a child should never have to hear or worry about. While talking to her can (and will) make you feel like mom of the year, you have to realize that you are only encouraging her ill mannered behavior. Avoid this mom if it's the last thing you do, there now you've been warned.

Close the door

My kid surprises me on a regular basis. Not the "wow she just read the whole constitution" kind of surprise; more the "Jesus, I didn't see you there" surprise. Our bathroom is right at the end of the hall and when I walk around the corner from the living room I don't expect to see someone sitting on the toilet doing their business. But there she is, on a regular basis sitting on the toilet with the door wide open. Sometimes she breaks into song and then I hear a deep "I got the summer time, summer time sadness" and I know the bathroom is in use. I'm glad that she feels comfortable enough around us but I think that's one of those awkward boundaries that we need to start setting. Thoughts?

Why I do this

One of my acquaintances asked me why I would air my dirty laundry on the Internet for all to see. You know I had to think about it for a while and I have this answer:

I'm not perfect (someone once called me terrible) and I know it, and that's okay. I'm sure everyone that reads my blog feels the same; you can't be a perfect parent because they don't exist. I want other parents with or without a disability to read my words and think to themselves "I've been there." I want you to take comfort in the resemblances in my shortcomings and laugh at goofy things I encounter. I want a place where I can vent and share my bitchy attitude. 

I don't have a lot of friends and the mom ones I do have don't usually agree with my parenting style. I want to be able to smile while I share the good moments and cry when I share the bad ones. I want you to know that you aren't alone; we can all be "terrible" parents together.

Fresh Fresh Fresh

Okay I get it; we could all be a little more active. I get that we should throw some spinach in the pasta sauce. I don't need the school planner that my kid reads everyday to spout all that to her. I'm really not exaggerating; every single page is either about eating habits or exercise.

This makes me furious!

The 6 year old is not the one making family decisions. She's not the one who determines how I'm feeling and what I may or may not be capable of, and she certainly isn't the one who does the grocery shopping or the cooking. The planner is telling her that she should make a walking commitment, and eat more fresh foods. All I could think was screw you planner! Stop brainwashing my child into thinking that her soccer and 4 dance classes are not enough exercise in a week, or that we're feeding her poison with our packaged noodles. The world isn't rainbows and butterflies, nor is it a "processed food free" kind of place. If I want to feed my kid a box of KD for dinner I'm damn well going to, so screw you planner for condemning me for it.

The best role model

I am my daughters’ best role model, so I better start acting like it!

I’ve got lots of bits on my body that move independently from frame; I’ve got stretch marks and stained skin from my medication. I’m not fat per say, but I’m certainly not wearing single digit size clothes. I sometimes catch myself being self-criticizing in front of Isabella and I need to stop. We all should stop, every mother, aunt, grandma. We have this little girl in front of us just soaking in everything she hears. She’s going to grow up and be made fun of for something to do with her appearance. She’s going to feel less than her peers at some point in her life. She’s going to think she’s ugly by media standards and she’s definitely going to hate her hair.

This is inevitable, but I can lessen the blow for her.

I can be less criticizing of myself and encourage her to be comfortable in her own skin.

I can show her that beauty isn’t just on the outside.  

I CAN be her best role model.

My Mathlete

I hope my kid is a drama geek, or a mathlete! 

Bells is quite the social butterfly and I love how accepting she is of all other kids, but I don’t want the “popular girl” label for her... ever! Popularity is so overrated in school and amounts to nothing in the real world. I witnessed firsthand the difference it makes at my 10 year high school reunion. All the “unpopular” people offered to help out in any way they could while the “popular” ones just showed up for a party. They were used to everyone catering to them back in the day and it seems like they still are. I of course bragged about Bells, and my 2 home businesses, and 2 part time jobs. I bragged about my husband and our life together. I got the chance to catch up with several people I hadn’t seen in years.

The “popular” girls acted as though were still walking down the Pinetree halls, looking down on me and my “unpopular” friends. They didn’t engage in conversation with me as though I still had acne and was eating my French fries with extra gravy outside of the media arts room. Some even left their spouses at home and were seen dancing unacceptably close to an old high school flame. It was a real eye opener, and I don’t ever want Isabella to be like that!

That single girl

I have sympathy for that single girl in her mid 30’s. You know the one, who has to endure each and every holiday being asked over and over “When are you going to get married?” Each time she answers with “I haven’t found the right guy” a little piece of her heart breaks and she feels a little lonelier. Do her family and friends think that she hasn’t tried? Do they think love is something you pick up at the store? She’s gone on dates and she’s tried singles events but she just doesn’t seem to get that second or third date penciled in. She watches her nieces and nephews birthday’s fly by and the thought of not even having a man in her life weighs on her more and more. She smiles and tries to laugh it off when her grandma has “the talk” with her, saying that she won’t be around forever, as if somehow laying on the guilt will make her find Mr. Right. No one knows that she goes home alone and hurt. While she desperately wants to settle down she can’t make someone love her.

I feel for her because this is how I feel every time someone asks me when I’m going to have another baby.