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More Than a Mom In Aspen
Phew.
That’s all I can say about the last couple of weeks. It’s been a nonstop party around my place and almost every morning I’ve awakened grumbling “Ow, my (bleepin) head.”
Totally Awesome!
No really. I’ve been looking forward to not being pregnant/breastfeeding for like three years. That’s a heck of a dry spell. I bumped into Robin downtown last week. I was hauling a party pig from the Rock Slide in heels and it was killing my arms but there was no way I was going to drop the 2 1/2 gallons of liquid fun no matter who I bumped into.
We had some company from Australia for a couple of days. If you don’t know any Aussies, let me tell ya, they LOVE to drink. And being lovely hosts, we totally accommodated with local brew and frosty glasses.
We went to Aspen. I have lived in Colorado almost my whole life and I’ve never been to Aspen so it was an adventure for all of us. I parked right across from the Hotel Jerome and said “Okay, what do you guys want to do?” Uh, duh, we had to stop to drink some more beer.
Then I watched my mates play Pretty Woman emerging from trendy shops with bags full of Roxy and Prada. That exchange rate and falling dollar were of benefit to my friends who in turn did their part to stimulate the economy. Not to feel left out, I bought myself an Aspen t-shirt for which I immediately had buyers regret. It’s so show-offy.
Eh to Aspen. It’s a’ight I guess.
We returned to GJ and drank more beer and drank more beer. And the tears flowed when they left. So Marty and I drank some more beer. That’s the Aussie spirit!
At this point you may be wondering what my point is so I’ll get to it already. The point is I actually sat and had fun with people who didn’t ask me how my kids are or what they do or blah blah. They wanted to know about me. They didn’t want to know about my potty training whoa or how many hours of labor it took to get them out.
My kids were there in the background of course. I had to excuse myself to give them baths and put them to bed.
But, for awhile, I was just Richie again, independent of my kids. I suppose I should feel guilty for that, but I don’t. It felt good to be more than just a mom for awhile. I suppose the beer helped.
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An interview with Margaret (Grade 3)
Sunday, Bill, Margaret and I were out cruising our bikes around the neighborhood when we found ourselves at the bottom of the steps for the new Chipeta Elementary School.
I think the sun reflected off Bill’s new chrome cruiser and blinded the principal, Patrick Buckley, as he came outside and offered us a quick tour of the “green” school.
Margaret was beside herself. She got a sneak-peak of her brand new “green” school.
We were all impressed with the building — but no one more than Margaret.
She could. Not. Wait for school to start Monday.
After her first day of the 3rd grade, I asked her if I could interview her for this blog. She agreed.
Perhaps it was because I was typing my questions and her answers while I was asking her questions, but she was VERY careful about her answers and I have transcribed them here just as she said them. (Believe me, I couldn’t make this stuff up.)
Me: How was your first day at Chipeta Elementary?
Mar: OK. Now ask me about my lunch.
Me (dutiful): How was your lunch?
(As I was typing this, Mar says, “Oh yeah, and when you’re done with this copy it and put it on Twitter.)
Mar: It was good. But you had to wait in line. We had chicken nuggets and the cafeteria was really big. You also got big grapes in your fruit cups.
(From her tone, I could tell that she was quite pleased with the “big grapes” because they were all big and grapey).
Me: How was your classroom?
Mar: It was medium. The size was medium and it had green chairs and a tan wall.
Me: What is your favorite part of your school day?
Mar: Sitting and doing worksheets. I love doing worksheets.
(Like I said, I typed what she said. My kid loves worksheets. I wonder how one develops such an affection.)
Me: What’s your favorite part of new school building?
Mar: Um. Let me think about that … It has to be the new playground that they are building and how they are recycling rubber instead of wood chips. It’s really bouncy.
Me: OK. How did you like meeting the Columbine students?
Mar: It was kinda of awkward because a lot of people were different.
Me: How do you like the new building?
Mar: Uh. It’s OK. It’ll do for the rest of the years that I’m going to be at Chipeta.
(I’m so pleased that she finds the state-of-the-art, green building up to her standards enough to be sufficient for the next three years. Man, kids these days are hard to please.)
Per her demands, I am to include the following:
Margaret was interviewed by her mother, Robin. (She also insisted on underlining our names.)
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Dorkville
We have six kids in our family. While growing up we all wrote letters to our eldest sister, Vicki, who apparently saved them ALL! Over the years she has bit by bit revealed them to us, and they are proof that we were all, indeed, dorks. They are also proof that we actually used to write, in long hand (do they even call it that anymore?) real letters, before the days of e-mail and texting and such.
For your daily dose of humor, and sacrificing any shreds of dignity I may have left, I offer you some of these excerpts my sister recently shared with me.
To Lynn, a short trip down “memory lane” from Vicki, older sister extraordinaire. Excerpts from letters received during Lynn’s high school and college days, written to Vicki while she was in college (CMSV) and her early years of working and living in New York:
Oct. 9, 1975 (Lynn at home, junior in high school, current boyfriend Kevin? Vicki at college)
Dear Mayella, (alias Vicki) Howdy! I can’t come up this weekend (to CMSV) becuz I’m getting my teeth out. Also, I have tickets to a concert at the playhouse. Next weekend I’m going to see Godspell, and I have a hockey game. You are so lucky that you live away from home! I swear, I walk around on the edge of a nervous breakdown all the time. I really can’t stand it! I’ve rejected everything about ma and pa and figured out that they’re their own best punishment. I don’t even think I’m going to go to college, at least not right away. I just want to live by myself for a while, get my head together, and grow up, before I continue my education. I don’t even want ma or pa to pay a single penny for tuition. You know, your philosophy about guys is a very good one! But, me and Kevin are more in love than ever, but I still can’t help checking out the good lookers. Did you hear I was runner up for Kick-Off queen? It was really nice. I got a corsage and had to ride around in a car at that football game. Corny, but it was fun.
Barf! I guess that whole “get my head together thing” hasn’t quite happened yet. More in love than ever! Yeah, that lasted about two months. Guess he didn’t like me checking out the good lookers.
Oct. 17, 1975
Dear Mayella, Too bad about Carlos, although its not really, just look at Lucy and Ricky Ricardo. You want to grow up like them? Your plans for the weekend sound really far-out… I hope I can come… I would definitely need to be home for the confirmation, seeing as how I’m Danette’s sponsor. Gram and Gramp Ted are coming, too. Mark will probably make me pay for gas - he’s so cheap, it’s incredible! Kevin hit another deer with his car. Then he hit a guardrail and dented it all up. What a ding bell. See ya!
Far-out? Did we actually used to say that? I don’t remember who Carlos was - but apparently he didn’t last long. Mark is our brother, and he’s still cheap! Kevin hit another deer - mostly cuz he was a drunk-driver.
Nov. 13, 1975
Dear Vicki,
Hi babes! How ya doin? Our hockey team beat two teams that were undefeated and we won the section 9 tournament! That’s the highest we can go, pretty good, huh?
I got a raise of 25 cents an hour at work, so now I’m making $2.75 an hour! I was really surprised and happy.
I made Tomahawk Queen finalist. We had the assembly yesterday, oh man, it was awful. I felt so dumb up there. I was so depressed the rest of the day! Perri, Terri, Cathy Wengert, Julie Hilton and Julie Loeble also made finalist.
Kevin and I aren’t doing too well. At least, I’m not with him.
Write soon. I miss you - sometimes.
OK, you’re getting the idea that academics was not exactly my strong point. But hey - I was a working girl! Good thing too since I wasn’t allowing my parents to pay a single penny of my college tuition. Guess I got by on my stellar athletic ability and good looks!
Oct. 14, 1976 (my Freshman year at Siena College)
Howdy! Que pasa at CMSV? When are you gonna come and visit me? How was your weekend with that guy (Frank) at his cottage? It was a good thing you went!! God, why in the hell did you call Ma to ask her? What did you expect her to say… yes?! I got in a fight with her about it. She doesn’t “know what she’s raising!” Anyway, tell me about it!
I just listened to 4 records of the entire play of Hamlet. Oh God, it took 4 hours. I don’t see any theme or meaning in it! There was a hypnotist/speaker here last night. He was so damn good! Everyone was spellbound! Behave yourself, and if you’re not gonna behave, for pete’s sake don’t call and ask Ma!
No point in actually reading the meaningless book when you can listen to the record!
Nov 3., 1976
HI! I’m writing this in my English class, tsk-tsk. Well, I’m sick of hearing about Odysseus - I don’t care if he ever gets back to Ithaca!
Got a B+ on my Spanish test, and I wanted an A!
I had so much fun at the Tomahawk dance! Franny is such a riot! Dolly Berry won, she looked really pretty - she loved it! I swear to God, she ate it up. Its probably the best thing that’ll ever happen to her. Anyway, after the dance we went out for a drink or two. Robin went to the dance with Ralph Vanacore. Those two and friends went to dinner at Salvucci’s first. They all got surf and turf! I couldn’t believe it! I haven’t had surf or turf in I don’t know how long!
I heard you have seen quite a bit of Mark and that he met Frank. Ma is going nuts because all her daughters are dating Italians… wait until she finds out we (Franny) plan to get married. She’ll have grandchildren named Vito, Dominick, and Micky Jr!
Karen Flynn came up last weekend. We had a great time! She’s in the tail-end of her therapy with two psychologists and is really a lot better! Give my love to the nuns!
Help me Jesus. I don’t even know where to begin on this one! Meeeeowww to the Dolly Berry ding. Robin is another sister, apparently well-fed. Karen was my best-friend all through high school. That could explain her intensive psycho-therapy needs.
Feb 15. Hi toots. How are you? Judging from your letter, you’re not suffering from boredom! What did Frank give you for Valentine’s Day - a whole damn rose garden? I called Franny, but he wasn’t home. My friends, apartment and Michael are all fine. Michael shaved his beard- are you thrilled? My classes aren’t too bad. Math and Accounting are real killers, English and History are dull, uninspiring. But Spanish I adore. I love the teacher and the course. I’m going to tutor kids in fundamentals. I love cooking for myself! Everything at Siena involves a beer party. Really, its disgusting.
Well, Franny wasn’t home but at least I had clean-shaven Michael to fall back on! Beer party - disgusting? Was I just kidding when I wrote that? Maybe it was cheap beer …
Ahh, yes! There’s more if you can stand it!
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Through the lens of Soren’s Camera
I’ve been thinking for awhile about how to capture the world through Soren’s eyes.
It was suggested by our reader Chris that he would like to see things from our kid’s point of view. (Where are you Chris?)
I wouldn’t want to project any of me into his perspective. It would just be silly to even think that I could imagine what the world looks like to him and so I’ve refrained from the projection.
But, I picked up my cell phone the other day and realized that he had expressed himself creatively through pictures with self portraits and still life. It was a series he had been working on for a couple of weeks while I cooked dinner. He would walk around the house saying “cheese” to chair legs and curtains and toys.
I haven’t photoshopped any of these by the way. They are all raw and taken by him.
And so without further ado I give you Soren’s first photographic images that I like to call “Home.”
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Hotties Then and Now
For all you people out there who think life is on a downhill slide when you reach 50 - think again!
Fellow celebrities (ha!) like Madonna, Prince, Michael Jackson, Annette Bening, Kevin Bacon, Jamie Lee Curtis, Andie MacDowell, Michelle Pfeiffer, Angela Bassett, Viggo Mortensen, Sharon Stone and Andrea Bocelli are all turning 50 this year.
That’s a pretty damn hot list!
Well, except for Michael Jackson. (But he did give the best concert I ever went to.)
Some of these celebs may be surgically enhanced - but good on ‘em if they are. They still look great and they still got “it”!
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A Real Treat
I have a big picture window in my kitchen that looks out into my back yard. I have a hill in my back yard that’s kind of rocky and woodsy.
About 7:30 last night I walked past the kitchen window and noticed yet another stray cat stalking through the yard.
“Dang it,” I thought. “There go another couple of birds!”
I looked again however and realized, “Holy cow! That ain’t no house cat! That’s a bob cat cub!”
Sure enough, it had the little black and white pointy ears, the tawny colored coat and a short stumpy black and white tail.
He (she?) sat on a rock about twenty feet away from the deck and looked at me. I stood there and looked back at him. This went on for several minutes until I snuck in the house to call Alex to come look. As he came quietly onto the back deck, the kitty’s brother (sister?) stole around the corner and sat next to his sibling.
All four of us just marveled at each other’s presence for quite some time, until the kitties stretched lazily and meandered back up the hill and out of sight.
How lucky are we? How blessed and what a privilege to see two beautiful wild animals in our very own back yard!
I’ll be on the lookout for them and next time I’ll try to have the camera ready.
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Wordless Wednesday
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Quick 1
Busy Busy Busy. As much as I’d love to compose my Ode to Jonas I just plain don’t have time right now.
I’m learning that when things get busy you have to learn to simplify. That was the theme of Jonas’ 1st birthday party last weekend. I did a picnic in the park so that I didn’t have to actually clean my own house and so the kids could run their butts off before naptime.
It basically consisted of sandwiches, fruit, potato salad and cake. The crowning glory and only showstopper was this cake I made for Joji Pie.
I KNOW awesome right??
Needless to say I’m proud enough of it to blog about it.
And here’s what happened to it.
I guess that’s ‘nuff said about that. I have intentions of catching our readers up on my busyness, as soon as things slow down.
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Weird Stuff
When there are teenagers in the vicinity, there are bound to be weird things that show up in your yard.
You remember this from when you were a kid. The world-famous toilet paper trees, the eggs, the shaving cream or whipped cream graffiti - yep, we’ve had it all.
For the most part it doesn’t bother me. I tell Alex to go clean it up and threaten his friends that I will call their parents and the cops if it happens again. This keeps the damage down.
Last week I awoke to two trees in the front yard decorated with Charmin. I had to laugh. I knew it was a girl who did it because there were only like four sheets of TP in each tree. Sure enough it was Christina the Criminal, as I now call her.
This morning though was odd. There was an old tire and a new basketball in the middle of the driveway. The basketball I’ll give to my nephews. The old tire is problematic because I have to pay to get rid of it. I told Alex to tell his friends they had until noon to cart it off or I’m calling the cops. This time I mean it. Really. I’m serious.
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The Money Pit
Holy cow.
I’m in shock.
Just when you think you’re getting close to the end of the parenthood road a huge speed bump rises up and smacks you sideways.
Alex passed his driving test with flying colors. Good for him! He was quite excited and I was happy that I never have to get in a car with him behind the wheel again. The State of Colorado has declared him road-ready.
So we spent lots of time on Monday at the DMV waiting to turn over the paperwork, have his picture taken, and pay money.
You know what’s really irritating, to put it mildly, about that? The fact that there are two people, two people!, working there and easily 45 people waiting for their number to be called. I’m not kidding. Lined up down the hallway. As a tax payer to the State of Colorado and someone who thinks she provides pretty good customer service to my customers, I find that level of service form the State extremely insulting. Downright disgusting actually. In fact, it pretty much pisses me off, and I hate using that word. I deserve better. You deserve better.
So anyway, Alex has had his eye on this car weeks before he even took his test. I balked. He begged. He pleaded his case with some very compelling arguments. I swore no way would I let my kid get this car. Yeah, right. So I refer to this car that is now parked in our driveway as quite possibly the worst parenting decision I have ever made. But he paid for the majority of it with money he has earned and saved for the last 16 years of his life. Drew his bank account down to nuthin’. Good for him!
Alex is in love with this car and that is very special to see. In fact, he was moaning yesterday because it rained and it got dirty.
I knew the insurance would be ridiculous. I told him I would pay for the insurance because with the money I’ll save on gas from not driving him where he needs to go, it will pretty much be a wash.
So I went to the insurance company and got that over with. Then on to the County Motor Vehicle office to pay the piper there. At least there was no waiting!
“That’ll be $456.93 today.”
“WHAT?! Are you kidding me? How much will it be tomorrow? I can wait.”
Well knock my stupid butt down with a feather. I forgot about “da man” sticking his hand in my pocket AGAIN! State sales tax, county sales tax and city sales tax. And I was stupid enough to record the actual price we paid for the car instead of knocking off a couple tax-free grand. You can bet I won’t make that mistake again. So arrest me now. Big deal. I can use the free meals.
Poor Alex. He’ll be working for the rest of his teen years to pay that off. Hey - if we become homeless, at least we’ll have relatively nice cars to live in.
Anybody need their lawns mowed? Hedges trimmed? Dishes washed?
Where’s that piece of cardboard and a marker?
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A new “other woman”
Saturday is my uber-husband’s birthday. He got his present early this year … with some assembly required.
So now along side the wobbly girl on the red Electra cruiser, you can see Bill on his stretch, chrome cruiser.
Stay off the sidewalks!
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More Birthday Bounty
In addition to the fantastic t-shirt Robin and Richie gave me, I got lots of other great birthday booty. I want to share two particularly special gifts this year.
The first is from my nephew Max. He presented me with a beautifully wrapped package that contained this:
Max is almost a bigger fireworks pyro-freak than I am, and he knows that Killer Bees are my favorite!
Not to be out done by his brother, my nephew Sam disappeared into his room and returned with a silver bag stuffed with blue tissue paper that contained these treasures:
Yes, two number two pencils, a bungee cord, a pair of genuine Las Vegas dice, a carabineer, a calculator and a Jet Blue Airlines sleep mask.
Am I lucky or what?
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Happy (Belated) Birthday Lynn!
Because we Haute Mamas can’t let a milestone like running the Rim Rock Run and turning 50 go by without appropriate recognition (OK, we’re a couple days late), Richie and I had a special gift made for our cohort mama, Lynn.
Lynn, you’re an inspiration.
And just think how great you’re going to look finishing the Rim Rock Run in your custom shirt!
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While I Was Still 49 …
Sunday, August 3 at 5:40 a.m. found me here, at the entrance to the Colorado National Monument.
After four months of training I was ready to take on the first 3.8 miles of the Rim Rock Run, the distance from the entry gate to the turn-off for Glade Park. An elevation gain of 1,290 feet !
I had no idea what to expect. I was just hoping I wouldn’t get hit by a car. Or a truck. Or by somebody riding a bike.
The day before I ran it, I drove the route making note of the turn-off points so Dan, my trusty side-kick and personal support vehicle driver, would know exactly where to stop and wait for me with a fresh water supply and words of encouragement.
I expected this climb to be tortuous and figured I’d be walking the majority of it, struck down by leg cramps or my heart falling out of my chest onto the road. I had been told by more than a few people that those first four miles are the worst of it but after those are out of the way, it’s only 18 more miles of running bliss.
Knowing that Dan was parked only a mile and a half up the road, I started plodding along and before you know it, I saw his car along with the first rays of sun peeping over the top of the Grand Mesa.
We agreed to meet next at mile 2.5 which is the top of Serpent’s Trail. That was a tough mile and I ran some of it facing backwards trying to fake myself out. But sure enough, soon I saw Dan with cold water and a “Good job, honey!”
Last check point was Cold Shivers. I told Dan to give me a few minutes and then drive to the Glade Park turn-off since there really wasn’t any place to pull over. A quick half mile later and I WAS THERE!!
Ohmigosh, I did it! I wasn’t fast, I wasn’t pretty, and although it was nowhere near as hard as I was expecting it wasn’t all that easy,
but when I saw this sign,
I was overwhelmed and burst into tears. It was the best feeling and I am not ashamed or too humble to say I was pretty damn proud of myself! It seemed providential that Joe Cocker’s rendition of Have a Little Faith In Me was playing on my iPod at that exact moment. The whole thing just so rocked! I have to say it was one of the best mornings of my life, ever.
I wish everybody could get a chance to experience what it’s like to be in surroundings so unearthly beautiful at sunrise. To experience the unique vertigo of running past Cold Shivers Point, fear of heights and all. To experience the 5:30 a.m. grumpiness of a man who so willingly supported me, and brought me back down to earth by pointing out this sign:
Hey, I’m working on those miles and I’ve got three months to go!
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The blog where I question my husband’s sexuality
We don’t go to the movies very often. It’s just too darn expensive.
But for a while Bill’s been dying to see one movie in particular. He got excited the first time he saw the trailer on TV and then every time he saw an ad or heard someone talking about this movie, he’d look at me with that glint of excitement in his eye, grab my arm and earnestly say, “I REALLY want to see that movie … at the theater.”
He extolled the virtues of seeing the movie on the big screen with much enthusiasm. I yawned and was noncommittal.
Then Sunday happened. I was tired and we’d just spend a whole poop-pot full of money on the dreaded back-to-school supplies and new school clothes. Instead of going home to our hot, dirty house, I suggested an afternoon at the movies.
I mumbled to Bill, “So do you want to go see that movie?”
Bill immediately started drooling, “Oh yes!”
We checked the time and drove to the theater telling Mar that we were not seeing Wall-E which would have been appropriate for an 8-year-old instead we were taking her to a PG-13 movie — because being appropriate has never really worked out for us in the past.
The theater was packed and we were squeezed into the middle of a row down front.
After the 20 minutes of trailers and reminders to turn off cell phones (which I neglected to do because I’m like that), the movie started.
I rolled me eyes.
I can’t believe we spent upwards of 40 bucks on this.
But once I got into it, the movie was entertaining.
Except for all the singing.
The singing that was done by the multitudes of women in the audience and by my husband.
Yes, people, we saw Mama Mia!
I took my machinist/musician/manly-man-who-has-killed-things husband to see a chick flick featuring music by Abba.
I wish I were kidding … or even exaggerating.
I am not.
The story I just told is true — so much so that I am embarrassed (kind of, but not really) to tell it.
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Pinching Pennies on Coffee Drinks
When you have kids in these times of economic slowness you have to cut back somewhere. Actually I’ve cut back a lot and now find myself with buyers remorse even over hamburger.
But, I do like me some frozen coffee this time of year, only I don’t want to pay $4-$6 bucks for it. So, I’ve been making my own at home for pennies. Frozen Coffee on the Rock or Blended.
1/2 cup strong coffee or 1 Tbsp. instant coffee 1/2 cup milk 1 tray of ice Either pour coffee milk over ice or add to blender and make into a blended drink. Top with canned whipped cream.
That’s the basic recipe. Now, you can get creative. Add chocolate chips, a dash of vanilla, some chocolate or caramel syrup, some ice cream even.
Yummy and super cheap!!
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The Agony of Letting Go
Tomorrow is a very big day for Alex and me.
He tests for his driver’s license.
Oh my goodness. I am very conflicted about this.
I know I should be a mature adult and see this as a successful and necessary step in his journey to becoming a mature adult. Then again, I’ve been behind the wheel with him.
Then again, he’s been behind the wheel with me.
On average, I’ve put his life at risk many more times than he has done the same to me. Statistically (and reflected in auto insurance rates) he is at far greater risk for accidents and injuries.
So, maybe we should both be riding bikes. Oh wait, bike accidents are increasing too as more people take to the roads on two wheels. Scooters? Umm, I need four “walls” around me. But wait, I’m avoiding the issue here.
He’s my baby! My sixteen year-old cutie-pie. When he gets his license, he’ll get a car. Then I won’t be able to drive him anywhere. Then I’ll NEVER see him again. He’ll go to college, he won’t call, or write (except maybe to ask for money?). He’ll graduate magna cum laude and forget to thank me when he makes his acceptance speech for the Nobel Prize for science. Before you know it he’ll marry some girl I don’t approve of and have children I’ll never see because he’ll live somewhere far away! How can he do this to me?!
OK, I’ve got to snap out of it. This is supposed to happen. This is why we raise our kids and sweat blood and bullets and tears over them. So they can grow up and have children who will pay into the social security system - I mean, become successful members of the planet.
Being a mom is way too hard. But so is being a teenager. And fine, I’ll be a mature adult here if I really have to and say, “Good luck on your test son. I love you. Please don’t forget about me.”
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Nursing Mothers At Work Celebrate in Colorado
Well, I’m not gonna bring Jonas in and let him suckle at my desk if that’s what you were thinking!
But, the Workplace Accommodations for Nursing Mothers Act will go into effect Aug. 7 which is great news for working moms. The new law in Colorado requires employers to provide reasonable break time and a suitable private space for women to pump breastmilk at work and not to discriminate against them for doing so.
The goal of the law is to boost the number of babies who are exclusively breastfed even after their mothers return to work. Children who are exclusively breastfed are smarter and healthier and mothers who have breastfed are at a reduced risk of cancer and other diseases.
The Colorado Breastfeeding Coalition says this law will actually help employers because breastfeeding reduces absenteeism due to sick children, increases company loyalty and morale and reduces the health care costs incurred by the family.
To celebrate, the coalition will have a Nursing Mothers at Work Celebration from 9-11 a.m. tomorrow at the Capital building in Denver. It will be a “bagel breakfast for breastfeeding” event. Lactating mothers are encouraged to attend.
I have LOTS of experience with the working and breastfeeding thing. Our regular readers would agree that I’m not a nursing Nazi but I choose personally to breastfeed. I’m the only lactating woman in the room so I guess I have an obligation to state an opinion.
Breastfeeding is hard in a way that non-lactating people wouldn’t understand. It’s hard because there is a schedule to follow whether you are near your baby or not. Deviation from the schedule is detrimental both to your engorged breasts (which hurts by the way) and to the hungry baby.
Nursing mothers give up breaks and lunch hours and overtime for their children. Often it sucks (no pun intended) and it’s wearisome. It takes stamina and support. And it is essential that support come from the workplace.
Boobs work on demand and they quit working if they don’t get used. So working women who want to continue to breastfeed MUST find a way to express milk. Preferably a clean place so that the milk remains as sterile and yummy as possible. Just like cow’s milk, it needs to go in a fridge or it will sour. I realize that the thought of breastmilk sitting next to someone’s lunch really grosses people out but babies need to eat too. Besides, it can’t be any worse than some of the moldy sandwiches we’ve found in the newsroom fridge. Now, that’s gross.
It’s unfortunate that the workplace is insensitive enough that we actually had to pass a law to protect breastfeeding, but the law is essential to the working mother. I think the key element here is “not to discriminate against.”
Breastfeeding is an essential element to the human experience on a most primal level. That in fact is what I think bothers people most of all. They don’t like to be reminded of their animal nature, but we are all indeed just another mammal.
More information available at www.coloradobreastfeeding.org. For employers, an updated comprehensive section outlining the new law will be available tomorrow at www.coworkforce.com.
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On being the stepmom
A recent conversation with my 17-year-old stepson, Sean:
Me: So, four months until you’re 18, eh?
Sean: (Pause, furrowed brow) Is that how long it is until my birthday?
Me: (Guttural belly laugh) Oh please! Like you don’t know how long it is until your birthday. (Followed by more laughter on my part.)
Sean was doing what he does a lot … acting cool. I can appreciate that. He’s a teenager and being cool is important.
But more importantly he was being social. He was hanging out. He was chatting.
With us.
His dad and stepmom.
Voluntarily.
Yes, it could be just because we’re selling him our extra car at a very deep discount. But I’m pretending like it’s because he just felt like sitting around talking to us.
I’ll be the first to admit that Sean’s teen years have been challenging. I worried about his untapped potential and about the bad decisions he was making for himself.
I really struggled with my role as stepmom. Ultimately, I had to step back and let his mom and dad figure out what to do. That was hard for me (understatement), but it was the right thing.
Now, Sean seems to be more thoughtful and considerate, more responsible and open.
It’s a good place for all of us.
As he gets ready for his last year of high school, we are getting ready to see this young man begin his life’s journey on his own.
Where that journey will take him, is still very much unknown. Sean’s not sure what he wants to do after graduation.
He’s being hounded relentlessly by the Army and Marines recruiters. (Honestly, that possibility terrifies me.) He’s considering the Coast Guard (despite the fact that there are no coasts to guard in Colorado).
And while I’ve always been a huge advocate for Sean going to college, I’ve come to terms with the fact that college might not be right for him now.
Really, what I want for him is to follow his dreams. Yes, that sounds cliche, but the fact is that we only get one chance at being young and unencumbered. Now is the time for him to take chances and try new things (within reason, of course — I’m still his stepmother) with the hope that he ends up happy and without (much) regret.
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Mama put her foot and a blanket down
It’s been a couple of weeks since I last reported the sleep situation. It’s a little better, slow going, but better.
I had to choose the cry-it-out method with Jonas. No matter what anybody says I really think it’s the only way. I tried everything, the holding, the patting, the gentle sound of my sleepy voice, the not-so-gentle sound of my commanding voice, and nothing works. I just can’t take it anymore. So now he cries himself to sleep. I turn on the swamp cooler or go outside. I don’t like to hear my child cry. I especially don’t like that he uses his first word to call out “Mama mama mama” like a baby goat separated from its mother. It’s a hard method, but it works.
I tweaked a couple of things in the bedtime routine. I stopped trying to get the boys to bed at the same time. I was spending close to an hour each night running from room to room to comfort one, get the other a drink of water, comfort the baby, spray the monster spray, until I was just ragged. I put Jonas to bed now at 8:15ish. Soren has an extra 45 minutes until it’s his turn. Oh, and thank God for Bob the Builder. Like an idiot I swore I’d never plop my kid in front of Nanny Tellie. Well, I do and I’ll admit it. I
When I asked for suggestions one of my coworkers told me (I know, she wouldn’t share it with the rest of you through a comment. We’ll have to talk to her about that :) anyway, she told me that she put a futon on the floor next to her bed so that her daughter could just flop on the floor without disturbing her. I thought about this arrangement for awhile. Anyone who has enjoyed sleeping with a two-year-old knows that they have sharp knees and elbows. They shout random words like “SNOWCONE” in their sleep. They know how to pinch with their toes. Their hands are mysteriously sticky. I thought, well, what the hell, it’s worth a try.
I made Soren a little bed out of blankets on the floor and told him that it was his very special big boy bed. If he needed to sleep in our room he was welcome to it. Around 2 a.m. the first night he toddled in and I laid down with him. The next night he smacked into my side of the bed and I reminded him of the bed on the floor. Now, he loves this arrangement and has taken up the offer nearly every night. Fine by me, fine by the hubby, and fine by the kid. We all are sleeping better because of that most helpful hint so thanks coworker girl!
The baby will sleep about at 3 1/2 to 4 hour stretch now. It requires me to get up two or three times a night. We’re still working on the weaning and I think the longer sleeping pattern will come as he lets go of his booby. I’m gently coaxing him into this idea.
Sleep is a good thing. I can feel myself regaining some mental strength. My hubby and I watched an unanimated movie without children. I read this book cover to cover. Its getting better all the way around.
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The Difference a Day and Thirty Degrees Makes
The alarm went off at 5:20 this morning and I was on the road by 5:40. New songs on my iPod, plenty of ice in my water bottle, and a new attitude.
I ran the hilly trails behind my house and finished 3.5 miles before the sun peeked over the Mesa. It was a refreshing 67 degrees and I felt an honest to goodness cool breeze! At the top of one hill I stood in the middle of the trail with my arms stretched out like Leonardo DiCaprio on the bow of the Titanic. It felt great, and while I didn’t shout out “I’m the king of the world!” I was tempted.
I didn’t get in all 9 miles but I did 6 before I was really pushing being way too late for work. I feel vindicated, revived and redeemed.
And really hungry. Where’s my breakfast burrito?
Permalink | Comments (2) | Post your comment | Categories: Lynn
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If the kids are happy I’m happy!
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