Sports... We're Getting There

My sister was the athlete in our family. I was an OK athlete, but she was a very talented and driven swimmer that blew us all away. So. it made it easy for me to not put in a ton of effort since the title of best athlete was claimed in our house and there was really no competition to begin with. But, I played all kinds of sports... My mom made me try everything and I stuck with a few things for a while. Looking back I can really appreciate that I had the opportunity to learn a foundation for everything.

Now that we're getting closer to the age when kids start getting involved with sports, I'm a little freaked out. W has no interest. He has been in swimming lessons for more than two years and it has been slow going. We did a couple of soccer classes over the last few years that had me spending more time convincing him to cooperate and give it a try than actually participating. We don't play a lot of catch or watch many sports. We enjoy sports, but it's just not really a focus in our house.

So, I didn't sign W up for anything this fall. I asked last spring and he said no. And then he said it again this fall, so I backed off. Now he wants to play soccer, so we're looking toward the spring season. Honestly, I'm thrilled, because I love soccer. But, I've seen some of the kids his age play and they're ACTUALLY ABLE TO PLAY SOCCER. And then I worry that about my good-natured goofball who has a pair of left feet and very little drive. How is that going to come out on a soccer field?

I've never wanted to force my kids into doing anything, but I firmly believe that they have to play a sport for a whole long list of reasons. I just hope that we find the right one for each of them. I want to see them excel, sure. But - more so - I want to see them feel confident and happy and at home with what they're doing.

This post was inspired by Barracuda by Christos Tsiolkas, a novel where former Olympic hopeful Dan destroys his swimming career and his attempt at redemption after prison. Join From Left to Write on September 30th as we discuss Barracuda. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

My Opposite of Maybe

I just got back from spending five nights in Charleston, SC with my sister and four week-old nephew. I had a great time in an awesome city with some of my favorite people. It went by way too fast as days tend to do with newborns.  It takes time to get out of the house, the days revolve around feedings, and then you look at the clock and it is already 4:00. The greater majority of the last five years of my life have been filled with days like these. And I have loved every second of it (well, maybe not while I was in the moment all the time), but I can honestly say now that those days are behind me.

I’ve said it before, but this week pretty much solidified it… This baby shop is closed for business. Not only does my sister have all of my baby stuff, but I’m just not interested in going back to the newborn phase. Been there, done that, bought the frumpy maternity clothes… And now I know I’m done.

Don’t get me wrong… I loved the snuggling and baby time. I loved his smell and soft skin and his sweet little face while he slept. But, I also loved that I could give him back. I’ve heard it a million times, but now I get it. And it’s the first time I’ve ever felt that way. I’m far enough from that phase that I can look back on it fondly without any sort of longing for just one more. I’m good with what I am so lucky to have. I’ll encourage my friends and family to keep popping them out so I can get a little fix from time to time, but that’s pretty much it. I’m excited for the next phase of my life.

At the same time I’m so excited as my sister starts this new phase of her life. It’s so fun to watch her and she is doing awesome with a baby who is a little more fussy than most. She’s totally keeping it all in perspective – something I was totally incapable of doing with my first newborn.  And I’ll keep cheering her on… from my next phase of life with a cocktail in my hand.

This post was inspired by the novel  The Opposite of Maybe by Maddie Dawson. At the age of 44, Rosie finds herself suddenly single and pregnant. She tries to hide in her grandmother’s home, but meets two men that will change her life forever. Join From Left to Write on April 8 we discuss The Opposite of Maybe. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

How An Egg Drove Me To A Time Out

I nearly lost my shit tonight. It was over an egg. I'm serious.

The kids wanted hard boiled eggs and fruit salad for dinner, which they told me over lunch. Easy enough, I thought. Lucky me! This means easy dinner night! That was my first mistake: thinking that dinner could possibly be easy.

I made the fruit salad during naptime and boiled the eggs as soon as we got home from afternoon preschool. I was ready to start plating at 5:00. But, it's like the kids have an internal radar to go into hunger meltdown mode exactly 15 minutes before dinner is ready. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. No matter what time I'm prepared they will always beat me to the punch. Always. Tonight they were starving as soon as I pulled the plates from the cabinet.

Tonight's drama struck a nerve in the worst way... Why? Because I hate unpeeling hard boiled eggs. I'm terrible at it, which is actually something I didn't know people could be bad at... But, trust me, I am terrible. Imagine how well I unpeeled eggs while three kids screamed about how starving they were and how they needed their eggs NOW.

And for the first time ever I excused myself. I told them I needed a minute if they couldn't stop whining. I went up to my room and took a deep breath. Looking back I can't believe I was that close to freaking out over peeling a few stupid eggs.

So, my question now is... What comes first the meltdown or the egg?

Staying A Step Ahead

Help. I think my child is smarter than I am. It's W... He's like a sponge, always looking to learn more about everything. He loves animals and dinosaurs and space and geography... We were watching the Olympics and they did a little piece about Siberia. He was consumed by it. Like he couldn't look away. It only lasted ten minutes and as soon as it was over he asked how he could watch more shows like it. So, we started searching... We found some great options on Netflix, like How The Universe Works. The only trouble... I can't answer his questions.

It's been years since I studied the solar system and now he's learning about it in preschool (preschool isn't just about sharing and eating graham crackers anymore, people). He has a basic knowledge about space, but wants to know everything. The trouble is I can't really tell him more than he already knows. Yes, I just admitted that my 5 year-old son knows more about space than I do. Science just isn't my strongest area. I remember being placed in AP Bio in high school and my mom and I looked at each other with a WTF look before WTF even existed. 

Is it just me or are kids so much smarter than we were at their age? I didn't know half the stuff he knows when I was five (or ten for that matter). We parents need to band together and start having wine and geography nights or something, because I have a feeling it's just going to get worse. 

Anyway, I digress... It's hard to stay a step ahead of a bright kid. I need all the help I can get. Oh, and I'm totally screwed in 10 years.

I Miss Reading

Man, being a parent can be a real time suck. Everything that I used to do with my time is pretty much no longer an option now that I have three human beings under the age of five totally reliant on me. All day is spent tending to their needs, running them around, or working. Then I put them to bed and clean the house/do the laundry/look through mail/fold the laundry/prepare stuff for tomorrow and hope one of them doesn't fight sleep. Every now and then I catch dinner with a friend or have a meeting. If we try to watch any tv or a movie we're automatically up way past when we should and then end up cranky the next day.

Like right now, I know I should be going to bed, but it's the only opportunity I have to cross this one thing off my list... So, I'll be tired in the morning. Like the day. I was totally exhausted because I just so desperately needed to read.

I got into bed at 10 pm, which is my goal bedtime (but early for me) with the intention of working on a book I could not get out of my head. I opened A Well-Tempered Heart and then what I thought was about 30 minutes later... checked the clock to see how many more pages I could read... 11:40. So, I got to a stopping point and went to bed. I don't know the last time I've spent nearly two hours reading.

Of everything I miss from my child-free days it's the ability to close a book knowing I'll get back to it in the morning, knowing I can take a weekend afternoon to devote myself to reading. Now I'm never so sure. But, this book was one I just couldn't say no to.

This post was inspired by the novel A Well-Tempered Heart by Jan-Philipp Sendker.  Feeling lost and burned out, Julia drops her well paying job at a NYC law firm. After hearing a stranger’s voice in her head, she travels to Burma to find the voice’s story and hopefully herself as well. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Chicago Parent's New Voice: Yours Truly

Because I don't have enough going on... And because I am so good about updating this here blog often... And because I've been really awesome with blogging deadlines... Right?!?

But, really, I'm super excited for this opportunity. I love Chicago Parent. And I love that I'm part of their community now!

My first post? All about our praying mantis named Pray who is now dead. But will live on forever in our hearts. Well, mine at least.

What's Wrong With You?!?!

"What's wrong with you?" I hate that phrase. HATE. IT.

Yet, I hear myself say it to the kids and I want to slap myself. It hurts my heart when I say it and all I can think is: "Shit. Why did I say that?!?!" Matt says it, too. I don't know who started it, but it's the worst thing ever.

I try to be aware of the things that come out of my mouth when it comes to the kids. I constantly worry about the little things that will get lodged in the pockets of their brains and become memories. I worry that the bad things could outweigh the good. I know that words count so much more than actions. I can still remember things adult said to me that stung when I younger. So, I try so hard to remind them of how good they are, how beautiful and loved and smart they are every chance I get. I cover them hugs and kisses. But it doesn't erase those times I scream "What is wrong with you?!?!"

When they throw a tantrum or knock something over or just will not put on their shoes when we have to go. When they won't get in the car seat or flip over the laundry basket I just folded. What's wrong with them? They're kids.

They might not be scarred by it, but I am. I never want them to feel that there is anything wrong WITH them. Something might be wrong in general. They might feel sick or sad or bored or lost a toy. But that is a different question and that's not what I'm asking, but should be.

Really, the better question is what's wrong with me... And the answer is I'm stressed, tired, distracted, overwhelmed, running late, not paying attention enough to intervene, and dealing with a million other emotions and distractions that run through my head every day.

So, from here, let's consider it deleted. Today, September 19, 2013, I banish that phrase from my house. How about you join me?

What phrases do you say that you wish you could erase from your vocabulary?

A controlling mother, a missing daughter, and a family who is desperate for love. This post was inspired by the the psychological thriller Mother, Mother by Zoren Zailckas. Join From Left to Write on September 19 as we discuss Mother, Mother.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

How to Support Friends Through Infertility

If you think you don't have friends struggling with fertility, you just don't know the truth... because, trust me, you do. I've had a number of friends face fertility challenges, including a couple of my most favorite people. It sucks, no matter what the issue may be. Some just took longer than they thought to get pregnant, a couple were lucky after taking some drugs to kick start their efforts, and then there are a few who have gone down the road of IVF and more. Some have been successful, others have not. And as my friends struggled I had three healthy pregnancies, one even that was a huge surprise.

I feel the void that they feel as our family has rapidly grown with very little effort. It's incredibly unfair. It makes me sick that it's just luck. Dumb luck. And I'd by lying if I didn't think "why couldn't it be them?" when I found out I was pregnant with A. Seriously.

I've cried when reading text messages about miscarriage and unsuccessful attempts from a friend I know couldn't bear to have to speak the news to me. It's heart breaking. All of it.

People, you never know who might be dealing with fertility issues. So, do me a favor and keep your mouth shut. Don't ask people when they're going to have children (I'm looking at you, nosy old ladies) or go overboard in telling them how amazing it is to have children (trust me, they know).

So, while those are some pretty obvious things that you should not do. Here is a list of ways you can be supportive of friends dealing with infertility:

1. Don't Make Assumptions: It's really easy to make assumptions about what friends who are struggling with fertility issues will and will not want to do with your family. Don't jump to conclusions. An invitation to your child's first birthday party may feel like the worst thing you can subject them to, but extend the invitation with the understanding that you get it if they choose to pass.

2. It's Not About You. Your friends pass on your child's birthday party invitation? Don't want to come to your house for trick-or-treating? Seem a little distant? Get over it. It's not about you.

3. Don't Ask. Don't text every month to check in around ovulation time. Don't ask for an update every time you see her. If they want to discuss it, trust me, it will come up. Ask "how is everything," which is a good way to allow them to talk about the awesome soup they made for dinner last night or pull out a box of tissues and sit down for a heart to heart. You open the door, it's their choice to walk in or close it.

4. Do Tell. You're pregnant? Give them a call and let them know. Find a way to discuss with them before you invite them to the dinner with your 20 closest friends to make a grand announcement. Or just don't do that. I bet your friendship is more important in the long run. And do tell them about things going on with your kids. They're interested in your life and your kids, because they're your friend. Not talking about your own kids is like an elephant walking into the room. Just be thoughtful in how you approach it.

5. Be Positive. Don't ask what they're going to do if they don't end up delivering a child. As long as they are on this road, you're on it too. Let them determine the alternative routes. They already are a family, the same as you... Just minus the minis... for now. They don't need your opinion on their next steps. Unless they ask for it.

I'm no expert. I have no certification. But, I think I'm a pretty good friend and one of my strengths lies in my ability to read people and what they need. So, take my advice or leave it. And, better yet, comment with your own advice.

And, to my friends who have struggled and continue to struggle with fertility, I've never wanted anything as much as I've wanted you to be successful, because I know it's important to you. I hope I'm not a huge idiot in giving advice to others. I hope I've been a good friend to you. And I'm so honored you've held me in confidence and friendship on your journeys.

This post was inspired by The Blossom Method’s You Never Know campaign. My participation is voluntary and I have not received any financial compensation. All thoughts and opinions are my own. The Blossom Method is a therapy practice offering support, community, comfort and hope to women and couples experiencing issues related to infertility, pregnancy loss, genetic complications, pelvic disorders, NICU preemies and postpartum depression. 

Phone: 312.854.0061, email: info@blossommethod.com, website: www.blossommethod.com

Why I Stopped Watching The Following

Do you watch The Following? I love me some Kevin Bacon, so tuned in for the first few weeks and loved it. Then it started to feel too violent. Sometimes unnecessarily violent. And then it felt like while I was watching and snacking on a bowl of popcorn some psychopath in the US was also watching with more sinister intentions. As the show continued it just seemed like the life of sadistic killers was becoming too sexy and exciting. But, I kept watching.

Then Sandy Hook happened and I told Matt I just couldn't watch anything violent and we just needed to turn off the tv for a while. And then the bombs went off in Boston. It was all so terrible and heavy and made me realize how vulnerable each of us are as we go about our daily lives. I haven't watched The Following since. It's scary to realize the fragility of life, which is the single most frightening aspect of being a parent. The Following made me feel like anyone could be a target, but I was able to remind myself it was a tv show. The shootings and bombings were suddenly real life. You can't escape reality (well, you can, but I'm not really into psychedelics).

We can't stop leaving the house and taking our kids to school and going to the grocery store, I know this. So, I wonder if this is our new reality... Are tragedies like Sandy Hook and attacks like the Boston bombings just part of life? I don't want to admit that could be the truth.

While reading A Constellation of Vital Phenomenon I was reminded of the charmed life most Americans live compared to the majority of the world. I had to keep reminding myself that much of the book took place in 2004 in Chechnya. In 2004!!! As in when I was living the care-free existence of a 20-something in the city. Yet one of the main characters in the book was likely the same age and returned to her ravaged homeland after the start of a promising medical career in London. Fear of landmines, living in a seemingly lawless land, and the devastation that surrounded them was a reality... The fragility of life an actual concern every moment, not just something on television or the news.

I'm still not planning to watch The Following anymore. I'm sorry, Kevin Bacon, I love you and your skinny ties, but the world doesn't need any more ideas on how to hurt each other.

This post was inspired by the novel A Constellation of Vital Phenomena by Anthony Marra. In a war torn Chechnya, a young fatherless girl, a family friend, and a hardened doctor struggle with love and loss. Join From Left to Write on May 20 as we discuss Anthony Marra's debut novel. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

I Am Almost Stopped Blogging, But Here's Why I Didn't

If you've been checking (if there is still anyone remotely interested in our antics) you've probably noticed that things haven't been updated around here for a while. It started before A was born. Little by little I started to lose my interest in blogging. It became another item on my never-ending to-do list. I stopped going to blogging events for a while, because working out childcare and spending more time away from the kids just didn't appeal to me. Suddenly this thing that I was doing for my kids, to celebrate being a mom, to find a community was taking my focus from my kids and - quite frankly - starting to stress me out. I cared less and less about readership and willingly turned down great opportunities, because I knew it was the right thing for me at the time.

A was born and the days and weeks became a blur and there was NO TIME. No time to do anything, especially anything on my computer. Opening my computer just leads B to bang on it and W to insist on playing video games and A just seems to have a sense that it's open and begins to cry. So, I could go weeks without working on my computer. Having three kids under the age of four doesn't leave much personal time to do just about anything.

And then I received an email from a really excited father expecting his second child. Let's call him John. With a wife only a few weeks along, John started googling stuff to get him ready to be the father of two. He found a post I wrote about preparing for #2 and was especially interested in my double stroller recommendation. He revealed that I was the first person he shared the news with and had some questions about a double stroller. So I wrote him back with advice and it felt good. I was reminded why I started this blog and realized I missed writing and connecting with other parents. I'm no expert, but apparently I do have something valuable to offer. I heard back from John and at the end of his email he wrote this: Anyway, thank you, again, for all the insight, and I look forward to continue reading your blog.

It feels good to be back. After all, if I'm not posting how will this man ever know how crazy it will be when he and his wife have #3?!?!

Two Weeks Home

We've been home for just about two weeks with our newborn girl. It's been pretty great. The boys are good with her and for the most part don't even realize she's around. They're doing a terrific job playing together and we're getting into a nice groove.

W goes to preschool every morning. B naps for a couple of hours while he is gone and I have quiet time with the baby. I'd like to think that soon I'll start filling that time with some exercise, laundry, crock pot preparation, blogging, thank you note writing, working on birth announcements, and all of the other things that I feel like I should be doing.

But, knowing that this is my last time having a little newborn to snuggle and sleep on my chest, I'm trying to enjoy those moments. If that means the rest of the stuff gets delayed, then I'm ok with that.

Playing Politics With Women's Rights Makes Me Nervous About Having a Daughter

When you're a mom of two boys pregnant with a third child whose gender is a mystery you get really used to people hoping/cheering/praying/keeping their fingers crossed that you'll have a girl. I get it. People have good intentions, but I also find it annoying. Honestly, I'm not losing sleep over whether I'll have a girl and I really don't care about the baby's gender. There are many, many reasons I'm fine with having another boy. I won't go into all of them, but I was reminded of one while reading The Bloodletter's Daughter by Linda Lafferty: We live in a dangerous world for young girls.

Much smarter and eloquent people than me have written about the ways young girls and women are objectified. We see if every day, I don't have to go over all the details. But, what scares me most is how in 2012 we seem to be taking massive steps back for women in this country. In the last few months our rights to birth control, reproduction, abortion, health care access, domestic violence protection, workplace rights, and equal pay have been used as pawns in political campaigns. And all of this really scares me.

I have faith that we have enough smart people in this country to make sure we don't go much further down this road, but we're kidding ourselves if we pretend that women are sitting pretty. This NewYork Times article does a nice job of laying out some basic examples... examples that I have a feeling the vast majority of women have no idea are real.

Beyond all of this what infuriates me the most is the fact that women are even being used in this regard. This is 2012, not 1960. I studied women's studies in college and I haven't felt like this subject has been as present in my mind since. These aren't women's issues. These are all of our issues. Women's health, equality, and rights affect men and children as much as they do women. If poor women don't have access to cancer screening at Planned Parenthood what becomes of the family members who will have to care for them and may be left behind? It's that simple.

I want to be sure I am the most empowered, healthy, productive woman I can be, which will make me the best mom possible. Most of all I want to know that if I bring a daughter into this world her rights and choices will be guaranteed, not threatened for political gain.

Inspired by a real-life murder that threatened to topple the powerful Hapsburg dynasty in the 17th century, The Bloodletter's Daughter imagines how one young woman holds more power than she thought possible. Join From Left to Write on September 25 as we discuss the The Bloodletter's Daughter. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

My Mom Voice Won Over My Reader Voice

I've been a member of the From Left To Write Book Club for a while. It has consistently been one of my favorite online communities and has inspired what I feel are some of my best posts on this blog. And, oh yeah, we get to read a great list of diverse books... Except I didn't read this one. The point of the book club is not to write reviews of books, but to allow the book to inspire a post. And though I didn't read January First by Michael Shofield, it inspired this post.

Being a mom changes something in you. Every four year old is as innocent as your own. Difficult stories, diagnoses, painful experiences all take on a new layer of severity. It could be your child. What would you do if it were? How would you survive? These thoughts now touch me deeply. They reach deep down to a place of emotion I didn't even know was there before I became a mom.

I don't like to get emotional. I'd rather keep my emotions at bay and avoid crying as much as possible. I find myself avoiding sad movies. I skim over articles about victimized children. I refrain from reading blogs about tragedy. I try to keep myself safe.

I signed up to read January First with some hesitance. The story begs me to read it. But, I was conflicted about whether it would be good timing with being as pregnant as I am these days. Take this line from the cover, for instance: A Child's Descent Into Madness and Her Father's Struggle to Save Her... Might not be in the best interest of my emotions to read that book right now, said my inner mom voice.

But, my reader voice encouraged me to open it and give it a chance. Go read the description of the book. Looks fascinating, right? But, should I read a father's memoir about his young daughter's struggle with severe schizophrenia? I received the book, turned it over, read the back and was torn. Then I talked to my BFF, who knows me all too well, and encouraged me to put the book aside and read it later.

I was torn. I was dying to read the story, but it scared the hell out of me. And, ultimately, I decided to skip the book and protect myself. I made a choice as a mom and a reader. I love reading. I treasure books. Being a reader is a big part of who I am, but I allowed my mom voice to speak a little louder to me this time.

One day I'll read this book. But, for now it's going to sit on my bookshelf waiting for me to get through the next seven weeks of pregnancy and those first few emotional weeks of having an infant. Then my reader voice will be heard.

How far would you go to advocate for your child? In January First, father Michael Shofield and his family struggle to find the right treatment for his daughter Jani, who was diagnosed with schizophrenia at six years old. Join From Left to Write on September as we discuss the Shofield's memoir January First. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

A Girl President

William received a sticker book about US presidents for his birthday. He is currently obsessed with sticker books, so loves talking about this new one. He and Matt were looking through it and this is what I heard from the other room...

W: "Why are they all guys?"
Matt: "Well, I bet you'll see a girl president in your life."
W: "Like Word Girl?"
Matt: "Yeah, Word Girl would be a good president. Or some other girl. But I have a feeling there will be one."

This is why I love my husband. He had no idea I could even hear him. If you know Matt this conversation isn't a surprise. Most days I wouldn't even think twice about it, but I'm getting tired of hearing about sexism, racism, and all the other BS-isms that invade our daily lives as ignorant people get more and more extreme.

Election years bring out the worst in people. But, sometimes they also remind you why you respect other people and why you're so happy you married them.

Lessons From The Dailey Method

I've been going to classes at The Dailey Method for the last few weeks. It's been really great for me. Not only has it given me time for myself, but it's also been a good reminder that pregnant ladies need to get their exercise on.

Here are five things I've learned from working out at The Dailey Method:

1. The Dailey Method (like so many other types of exercise) is a practice... You have to work at it, sometimes you're just a mess and other days you're in the zone. There are hundreds of things that affect you each day, so don't stress if you're not "on." Practicing is a step in the right direction.

2. You look and feel better when you're working out in nice gym clothes. Yes, lululemon and Lucy and Athletica might be a little expensive, but worth getting some good basics. You're going to watch yourself in a mirror, splurge a little and feel good about what you see.

3. Little movements make big differences. Just go to a class and you'll understand.

4. Pregnant women can work out and will feel better if they do. Yeah, sometimes you have to modify an exercise or stop for water more often... But, all in all, even a tough work out - like The Dailey Method - is doable.

5. Mom needs some time. The women who own this location are moms, most of the teachers have been moms. They get it. Remember the failed attempt at keeping the boy's in the kid's room? No one judged me for leaving my kids in there in the first place... Instead, they apologized that I wasn't able to use the hour of time I had carved out for myself. I knew they understood.

I've loved these classes. Loved clearing my head, feeling good afterward, and feeling strong. So, moms, whether it's The Dailey Method or something else, find your outlet.

Full disclosure: I received an unlimited month of classes at The Dailey Method North Shore location. All opinions are my own.

Howie Is Sick, But It's All About Me

Remember our dog, Howie? Yeah, we have a dog. A dog that has dropped far to the bottom of the list. I've written about Howie on occasion. Not enough, clearly. Howie just isn't my thing anymore. He is Matt's responsibility and that's how it should be, because my plate is overflowing. And sometimes I get a little resentful when he gets in the way. Clearly I am not the poster dog parent these days.
The other day I was working from home and on a call when I started to smell... something. I thought to myself, "No way. This dog never has accidents." I investigated and found the source. I'll spare you the details, but let's just say that clean up was not pretty and it was in the worst possible location in the house... The only room with carpeting and right in the middle of where the kids play.

I considered that he might be sick for a split second and then decided that it was must be a behavior thing... And by behavior I mean: he was punishing me personally. I kept him outside for the rest of the day and grumbled to myself about how mad I was, but thankful that I was working from home and the kids weren't here when I found it. I have no idea how our nanny would have handled it had she been here.

The next morning I'm sleeping until I hear Matt come into the bedroom, "Howie did it again. How should I clean this up?" It wasn't even 6 am yet. Good morning!

Anger launched me out of bed and I told him I would take care of it. Scrubbing dog poop out of your carpet is not something I would recommend while seven months pregnant and/or before coffee. I became convinced it was behavioral. Matt had taken Howie out at 3 am and then again before he got in the shower and Howie struck again. Matt's manager and his assistant were out last week, so working from home wasn't an option for him, which meant I had to work from home and continue with Howie duty.

I turned to the vet (who now thinks I'm totally crazy). I described what was going on to her and her response was: colitis. Here is a picture of our conversation:

Me: "Are you sure? Because I kind of think it's behavioral."

Vet: "No, this doesn't seem behavioral. It can be stress-induced, though."

Me: "Yeah, but, he's given every opportunity to go out and he only does it when I'm home."

Vet: "I think it's an urgency issue and you just happen to be home at the wrong times."

Me: "OK, but, he's choosing to do it in the middle of the kid's play area. I feel like he's choosing the worst possible place on purpose."

Vet: "How about we try some treatment and see how it goes. If this continues we can talk more about it."

Me: "So, you're sure this isn't behavioral? It just feels really personal. I mean, he is fine otherwise."

I think the vet wanted to scream: "Hey lady, this isn't about YOU!" But she remained patient and let me get all neurotic and crazy.

And she was right. Now that Howie has been on special food and is taking medication, he's much better and it's clear the poor dog has colitis. Yeah, I'm pretty much a monster. But, here's the thing: My plate is full. I have two kids under three and am almost seven months pregnant. I work full time, have spent the greater part of the last month working on our house each night, just hired a new nanny...  Right now anything that doesn't go according to plan or is an additional thing for me to deal with is beyond what I can handle without it feeling personal.

Sorry, Howie... But, in the back of my mind I still think you were torturing me.

Protecting My Child or My Paranoia?

W is taking swimming lessons at a swim school that I have been very happy with. Everything about it seems just right. The classes are small, the teachers are enthusiastic, there are changing rooms in addition to women's and men's bathrooms with showers... And most of all W is happy there (except for a few off days so far).

We had to do a make up class last week and afterward I was showering him in the women's bathroom. There was another mom showering her son while her daughter was playing with her phone behind us. I suddenly heard the mom say, "No! No taking pictures in here! Do not take pictures of your brother!" and I turned to see her snatch the phone away from her daughter.

I wrapped W in a towel, changed him, and left. But when I got into the car I started to wonder... What photos had that little girl taken? Should I have asked the mom to make sure there wasn't a photo of my son on her phone? Did I do enough to make sure she didn't get a picture of him?

The mom seemed totally normal, but still... It just wasn't sitting well with me the more I thought about it. So, the next time I went to the swim school at my normal time I decided to mention it at the front desk. I asked to talk to a manager. I explained the story and recommended that they consider putting a sign up requesting that people not use cell phones in the shower area. The manager agreed that I was right to be concerned and said he would address it. I felt better, a little bit of an alarmist, but better for having said something. After all, my #1 priority is protecting my children, right? So, if that occasionally makes me seem paranoid, then fine.

It's been two weeks and I have yet to see a sign or any indication that they took my concern seriously. I believe it was a one-time issue and I should let it go, but I feel like I'm one of many parents with little ones who will continue to be overly skeptical when it comes to our children's safety. It's a post-Penn State/Jerry Sandusky world and places that cater to children should take these concerns seriously, right?

So, now what? Do I press it? Do I let it go? What would you do?

Carving Out Time For Myself

Who starts exercising when they're six months pregnant? That would be me! And I'm getting mad that I didn't focus some time on myself six months ago or a year ago or four years ago for that matter. Coulda, woulda, shoulda, right? But, seriously, you forget how good it feels to have time to exercise and focus your brain on your body and actually feel your muscles and be reminded that your body is capable of more than having kids and then serving as their stomping ground. I mean, that's all pretty amazing, but pushing yourself and then feeling sore muscles for a few days is a good reminder that our bodies have a lot more going on...

My exercise routine for the last four years has been terrible. I have relied on our treadmill or workouts on video. While it's better than nothing, I rarely make it through them, because there are two little people who know what I'm up to and it's hard to not hear them or for the timing of their nap to work out just right. It's annoying and is why I maintain that the only way I will ever be able to get back in shape will be to exercise outside of my house.

I've stuck with my classes at The Dailey Method. I've left the boys at home and found time for classes twice this week (woo hoo!). It's a really good hour for myself. It's not easy. There is a lot of shuffling that goes into finding time between having a full time job and two kids and the things that life continues to throw at you. You never think it will be that hard to find time for yourself until it is and then having time for yourself becomes a distant memory. In this case it's a far, far memory.

I might as well stick with it while I can... Because some October it won't get any easier.

Disclosure: I received a one-month unlimited package to The Dailey Method Kenilworth. All opinions are my own.

The Dailey Method: My Kids Hijacked My Workout

Have you tried The Dailey Method? It's a pretty kick ass work out. I was taking classes for a while when they first opened their North Shore location and then life got in the way and I stopped carving that time out for myself. So, I'm giving it another go.

I scheduled a visit. I signed the boys up for their children's room, because it looks really fun, clean, and W loves new toys. I figured B would follow his brother's lead and it would be fun for both of them.

Excited may not even begin to tell you how I was feeling... This is the first time I have carved out time for myself to work out in a long, long time. And I knew I was in for a really good work out. The staff was terrific, assured me it was a great exercise for pregnant ladies, and were sweet with the boys. I brought them into the play room and they seemed ok. I stepped out and thought I heard some crying. I figured it was B, but that it would subside over time.

The class started. I was just getting into it, feeling good... Until a staff member stepped in and gave me an apologetic wave. "I'm sorry, but they're both really upset and it's not getting any better."

"Both of them?!?" I asked.

"Yes, I think W is upset because B is so upset."

I looked into the room and there were my two boys sobbing and snotty and totally inconsolable. So, I walked in, sat on the ground, and they pounced. I calmed them down, but there was still plenty of jagged breathing as W explained that B needed me and I should stay in there for B. Uh huh.

The woman explained to me that B got really upset when I left, but W was too consumed with the toys to notice, but then he started to get scared as B continued to cry harder and longer... And pretty soon both of them were a mess. She apologized that she wasn't able to fix it and they had to come get me, knowing that it was my limited time for myself. I can't tell you how much I wanted to give her a hug. The fact that she got that instead of assuming I was just dropping them in her lap made me want to kiss her.

I sat with the boys for a while, trying to distance myself to gauge whether there would be an opportunity for me to slip out, but they were onto me. It wasn't happening. Before I knew it, the hour was coming to an end. We'd read a few books, they showed me some cool trucks, I enjoyed a nice conversation with the woman in the kid's room (and kept myself from any of the hugging or kissing that I wanted to share with her), and then I decided it was time to go. I scooped up the boys and we headed home as the class was letting out.

I didn't mind. It was their first drop off experience like this. I never even stopped to think that there would be an issue. That was my fault. B is a mama's boy. He doesn't like when I leave him to go to the next room in our house, let alone in a strange room. W would have been fine, but he is very introspective and emotional, so probably started to freak himself out because of B.

Ok, so I was bummed I only got 15 minutes of class time in, but it's better than nothing! I've already scheduled my next class, but I didn't schedule child care this time. If I do that again it will be for W only and for now I'm going to make it my time in every way I can.

Disclosure: I received a one-month unlimited package to The Dailey Method Kenilworth. All opinions are my own.

My Protect-A-Bed Summer Sleep Thoughts and A Giveaway

We don't get a ton of sleep around here. Matt has always been an early riser and our kids have followed in dad's footsteps. We usually start the day by 6 am, sometimes closer to 5 am. And while our kids observe their early bedtimes, Matt and I try to get in a little time to get stuff done or hang out together or just veg in front of the tv and get about six hours of sleep. It's not terrible, but it would be nice to get more.
Sometimes as a parent you stress so much about making sure everything is perfect for your kids, you forget about your health and needs. We make sure the kids have new mattresses, allergen-free pillows, cozy pajamas, safe bedding, sound machines, and a comfortable room in every way. Sometimes we forget about those upgrades for ourselves. I just bought us new bedding last year, which replaced sheets and a duvet cover we'd been using since we were dating. I splurged at Target and bought some new soft pj's for the first time in years and it felt really good. With the basics covered, I realized my next step: protecting our bed.

When W moved into his big boy bed we purchased a Protect-A-Bed mattress protector, which has proved to be totally waterproof annd comfortable. But, Matt and I are still sleeping on an old, quilted mattress protector. With a kid sometimes creeping in our bed, Matt's allergies, and the male ability to get crazy hot (and let's face it) sweaty at night, it was time for a change. So, when Protect-A-Bed offered me a Luxury Mattress Protector I jumped on it. And we've been comfortably using it since. I'm feeling good about our sleeping arrangement, but we're not always sleeping at home.

In the summer months we do a lot more bed hopping and spend some time at my family's lake house in Michigan, which was purchased by my grandparents in the later 60's. Countless people have slept in the 13 beds and laid their heads on the pillows.

Now consider this: According to Protect-A-Bed, dust mites are impossible to see and live in mattresses and pillows, living on human skin cells, and thriving in hot and humid conditions (like, for instance, a lake house in the midwest). Female dust mites produce one to three eggs per day within their 30 to 90 day lifespan. Despite their tiny size, they create 10-20 waste particles a day, each containing a protein known to cause allergies and asthma.

Now the thought of these mattresses full of dust mites is kind of gross, but not gross enough to keep me from sleeping on them. What freaks me out is the thought of W and his issues with asthma sleeping on them. What's our plan? We're bringing our mattress covers along when we go to Michigan at the end of the month.

What's your plan to ensure your family enjoys safe, healthy sleep this summer? Leave a comment here and you'll be entered in a giveaway for a Protect-A-Bed Luxury Mattress Protector. They're not only perfect for families with allergies, but they're even better for families with little kids and need a soft waterproof mattress cover. Not the plastic ones we used to have to sleep on that made noise every time we moved. Remember those? Yuck.

Here's how to enter:

1. Comment on this post and share your summer sleeping secrets. Be sure to include an email address if it doesn't connect back to your blog. (You must comment to be entered!)

2. Follow Hannemaniacs. (Look on the right side bar to follow.) Click on the "Join this Site" button.

3. Like the Hannemaniacs Facebook page.

4. Follow Hannemaniacs on Twitter.

5. Mention this giveaway to your network on Facebook and/or Twitter (one entry for each) by pasting this in your status: Enter to win a Protect-A-Bed Luxury Mattress Protector at  www.hannemaniacs.com. 

Please let me know which of the above actions you have done to be counted.

As always, that's SIX possible entries per person. Contest ends at 9 am Friday, July 20th. Enter now!

Disclosure: I received one complimentary Luxury Mattress Protector and one to give away to a reader. All opinions are my own.