Monthly Archives: February 2012

Happy Leap Day, Fellow Leapers! And A Special Shout Out To My Little Guy. Happy 2nd Birthday, Sweetie!

“In 45 minutes, he’s going to be a Leap Day baby!”

I smiled at my mid-wife and said, “Yeah. That would be so co………..ARRRRRRRR!”

I was trying to say “That would be so cool!” but I had another contraction instead.

I had been pushing for almost 2 hours. In labor for 17. I was tired but still excited. And ready. Oh-so-ready to meet my little guy.

In what seemed like a minute I heard, “This is it. One final push.”

And he was here. Perfect and sweet and not crying. Aren’t they supposed to cry?

People started rushing into the room almost the second he arrived. Equipment wheeled in. People. So many people.

“There was no indication….” I heard my mid-wife say, her voice trailing off. The doctor seemed to scowl. He said something I didn’t understand and the room was turning white and starting to spin. My husband grabbed the nurse, alarmed and said something to me. I managed to squeak out, “Stay with him!” as they lowered an oxygen mask over my face.

The pregnancy was a surprise. And because of my age and infertile history, I was high risk. But quite honestly, except for the near constant morning sickness (that didn’t leave until month eight) I had a breezy, easy pregnancy. My blood pressure was always awesome. My blood sugar never spiked. He grew just the way he was supposed to. OK. So, he was almost 2 weeks late. And almost 10 pounds. He was just a healthy, growing boy who loved his momma. Still is.

Almost 2 hours later my husband came back into the room. Without him.

“He’s supposed to be with us,” I said. “We signed up for the rooming-in suite.”

“There were some problems,” my husband said, “But he’s fine now. They need to observe him for a little longer and then they’ll bring him to us.” He tried to hug me but I pushed him away.

“No,” I said. “He’s supposed to be with us. Where is he?”

“They’re taking good care of him. He’ll be fine. We’ll see him soon.”

I was tired. Confused. Exhausted. This was not what I had planned. My husband was going to cut the cord. (No time. The nurse did it.) They were going to lay him on me. We were going to take pictures. I was going to nurse, right then and there. (But they had to whisk him away.)

There was meconium in the amniotic fluid that didn’t present until the very end. I was busy pushing, breathing and focusing on my husband. My husband was watching the worried look of the nurse who left my mid-wife’s side to call in support. Our baby was blueish when he arrived. And not crying. Barely breathing. Everyone looked worried but in charge. My husband was terrified and when he saw me almost losing consciousness, petrified.

I had no idea anything was serious. I just remember not hearing him cry and then wanting everyone to just leave me alone and let me sleep. I fought with the nurse, tried to push her away in my half conscious state.

It was scary. It did not go as planned. And 6 hours later they brought my precious little bundle to me.

Born on Leap Day at 12:06am. 9 lbs. 12 oz.

The pediatrician on duty brought him to me. “Congratulations,” he smiled, “You’ve just given birth to a happy, healthy 2 month old.”

He was big. And he was healthy. A clean bill of health. After cleaning his precious little lungs and his precious little body. After x-rays, blood tests and observation. He was fine. He was ours.

Our precious little Leap Day baby.

Happy, happy 2nd Birthday, sweet boy! (Yes. I know you’re really 8. But you know how Mommy loves to tease!)

11 Comments

Filed under children, Holiday

Adding To My Netflix Queue While Watching The Oscars. Hey. That’s How Mothers Roll.

I have (at this moment, a little over an one hour into the Academy Awards) exactly 140 movies in my Netflix queue. One hundred and forty. If each movie is approximately 2 hours long, that’s 280 hours of popcorn munching and Coca-Cola sipping. If I take breaks to sleep, shower, potty, and prepare a quick meal, it would take me about a month to watch every single movie on my list.

I do love movies. I used to watch the Academy Awards and it was rare if I hadn’t seen all the movies nominated for Best Picture. Now, post kids, it’s rare if I’ve seen any of the pictures nominated. I have to TiVo them or put them on my Netflix list. Hence, the length of my list – which is now at 142, almost two hours into the Oscars. Yes. I am watching the Oscars, with my laptop on my lap and three tabs open: Netlix queue, WordPress and Pinterest. I’m the queen of multi-tasking.

I look forward to this night. A chance to see the stars in a different light. A chance to find out what I’ve missed in the entertainment world over the past year. Be it a song to add to my ipod or a movie to add to my Netflix queue.

But taking a look at my list, I’m having a hard time paring it down. So many items are documentaries or foreign films that will never make it to television. Waiting For Superman. Blame It On Fidel. Paperclips. Sarah’s Key. Or television that I have missed. Dexter, my favorite serial killer. Or the Mad Men series that I’d love to catch up on from the beginning.

I have a love/hate relationship with these award shows. Love the glamour, the pomp and circumstance. The gowns. (Didn’t you just love Penelope Cruz’s dress?) The heartfelt thanks and genuine surprise and awe. Hate the political (though rare) rants thinly disguised as acceptance speeches. You are actors. Who act. Your opinion on world affairs has nothing to do with  your craft or my enjoyment of your talents. So, please. Zip it.

And now, my queue has grown by two more. I’m at 144. Netflix is getting a workout tonight as they mention movies I was never able to see in the theaters. Either because my role as mother is more important than my role as armchair critic. Or because some of the most critically acclaimed movies don’t make it to my backward neck of the woods.  I depend on the Academy Awards to make my Netflix suggestions.

But I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open. Per usual. I am a mother now. Gone are the days of Oscar parties and ballots, Twizzlers and popcorn. I have lunches to prepare, another load of laundry to push into the dryer, book bags and shoes and jackets to place by the door.

Yawn.

I. Can’t. Make. It.

Must. Go. To. Sleep.

Let me know who wins Best Picture. That is, if you are able to stay up.

7 Comments

Filed under Completely Random, Uncategorized

No Ifs, Ands Or Butts. Jane Solves The Age Appropriate Clothing Dilemma.

A friend of mine has a pet peeve. It annoys me, too. But it annoys her more.

Women wearing clothes that are not age appropriate. 

You know the type. The one with kids approaching their teens but they still buy their own clothing in the junior section. Wearing the trendiest of trendy. Ripped jeans. Bikinis. Short shorts. Thongs. Body piercings. Micro mini dresses.

This friend of mine. The one with the pet peeve? She’s not envious. She could rock any of the above styles. She just believes that women should dress their age.

I’ve just never really given the topic much thought. It’s not something I notice unless it’s an in-your-face kind of offense.

When pushed for an opinion, however, I agree with her. I feel embarrassed for the offender. I’m not saying we should all don mom jeans or support hose (does anyone wear hose anymore?). But I don’t shop in the junior department. My jeans ride closer to my waist than my……well, you know what I mean. Bikinis have been replaced with tankinis. And shorts are at a length where everything is in its place. At all times.

Yes.

I said, shorts.

Because, apparently there is a debate about whether women over 40 (gasp!) should even wear shorts. I came across  this article and was aghast. Seriously? I’m going to have to get rid of my entire summer wardrobe. Because, Baby, I’m well over 40. I’m pushing the next decade. And I never gave wearing shorts a second thought. Which got me thinking……what IS age appropriate for me?

I did what I do whenever I’m wondering about something.

I Googled it.

And stumbled upon this article, “Forbidden Fashion For The Over 30s.”  I agreed with much of it. Body piercings, super low riding jeans, micro minis. Forbidden.

And then they listed things I don’t think anyone should wear: scrunchies, tube tops and Crocs.

But they also listed things that I’m guilty of wearing (at age almost-50): tie dye, collegiate sweats, and flip flops (but not all at the same time, of course.)

What is appropriate fashion for my age? What can I still rock and what should I drop?

I admire the Helen Mirrens, Diane Keatons and Christie Brinkleys of the world.

They exude style and class. No one questions what they wear out the door. (Except Mr. Blackwell, of course) They look put together. Fabulous. And can you believe Christie Brinkley is pushing 60?

But I don’t have a private stylist that helps me choose what I should wear and stops me when I try to leave the house in something that I shouldn’t.

After Googling and reading and scanning countless pictures I’ve come to only one conclusion: If it feels comfortable, if it looks at least somewhat put together, if it is properly cleaned and mended and ironed and covers the important bits – who gives a flying flip what I wear out the door? I’m going to be comfortable. I’m going to feel good when I put something on. And it will be age-appropriate because I say it is.

No ifs, ands or buts.

Unless, of course, my butt is peeking out of my low rider jeans. Then, please. Stop me. And send me back to change.

Because no one should ever be subjected to that.

21 Comments

Filed under Because I'm Curious, Self Image, Soapbox

Latest YouTube Trend Smacks Of Bullying. And It Must Be Stopped.

This latest YouTube trend must be stopped. Mothers of daughters (and sons — because I’m sure an off-shoot or similar video is on its way), please be aware of what your child is posting online.

Read this article here about teens posting videos of themselves and then asking viewers to comment if they are ugly, pretty, fat or thin. You can imagine the majority of the comments are not very nice. It smacks of anonymous bullying to me. It must be stopped. But how?

I have no answers. Just posting this to make other parents aware.

Even if it just opens dialogue between you and your child. At least that’s a start.

Addendum: I just saw this article online about boys and anorexia, which apparently, doctors are seeing more of. This is so depressing. Excuse me while I turn off the computer for awhile.

10 Comments

Filed under Be-Causes

The Exercise Braggarts On Facebook. Tell Me Again. Why Are We ‘Friends’?

Who are these people that I’m friends with on Facebook? All of my Facebook friends are people I either went to school with, taught, is a neighbor, etc. In other words, people I have encountered in real life. No friends of a friend of a friend of a friend. Real people I’ve interacted with in real time.

In real time they seemed…..normal.

On Facebook? Aliens. Not from my world.

“So glad I got to the gym at 5am this morning. I’m leaving at 6 and there are 3 people fighting over the cardio machine. Ha!”

“Last run before the big race. An easy 5K in 23:12. Now my left calf hurts, left knee. But I feel great!”

“Just finished a great 18 mile run. The 30mph winds? Not so great.”

“It’s cardio time! What are YOU up to?”

Me? Wow. It’s so sweet of you to care.

I’m more of an introspective and private exerciser. I love my quiet yoga time. Walks with my dog. Sometimes we walk with my neighbor and her dog. And swimming, of course. My therapy. Lap after lap.  But apart from broadcasting my exercise exploits here (for the purpose of this post, of course) I don’t feel the need to shout my daily (OK, sometimes every other day) sporting accomplishments from the rooftops.

Who are these people?

And why am I friends with them again?

18 Comments

Filed under Because I'm Curious, Observations

A Jail For All The Clutter? Great Idea! Hmmmm. But Wait…

Check out this great idea from imom.com. All of the clutter that ends up around the house goes to jail until a chore is completed from a randomly drawn Clutter Jail Community Chest card.

Sure. This is a GREAT idea.

But then I’d never leave the house because  my purse or my car keys or my favorite pair of shoes would be stuck in Clutter Jail.

At least my house would be clean.

11 Comments

Filed under All In A Day's Work

Valentine’s Day. The Aftermath.

My thoughts.

In bullets.

Because someone should just shoot me now.

  • Between Halloween and Valentine’s Day our teeth are bathed in chocolate. And cookies. And other tasty candies. Note to self: schedule all dental appointments in April (plenty of time to floss out the goo) and sometime in October, before the 31st. For obvious reasons.
  • Never believe your 8-year-old son when he says, “I don’t need a Valentine box. My teacher said we didn’t need one.” Because you’ll be scrambling on Valentine’s morning, 30 seconds before you need to get him out the door (when 8-year-old son decides he actually needs a Valentine box), scrounging the house for something, anything that can serve as a proper Valentines receptacle. This year #1son took a Target bag to school. (Hey. At least is was red and white.)
  • Who are all you mothers out there taping candy to your kids’ Valentines? Or buying bags of candy to place in fancy, decorated shoe-boxes (Over-achievers? I hate you.) or aforementioned Target bags? My kids insisted that they send Valentines that had candy attached to them. I said, No. There would be enough candy at the school party. They pouted. I told them, moms across America were saying the exact same thing to their kids this evening. No one will be putting even more candy into your Valentines boxes (or Target bags). Thanks, Moms. For hanging me out to dry.
  • And to my husband who completely ignored Valentine’s Day last year. Who raced out last minute to purchase wilted grocery store flowers and picked over cards in previous years. Yes. You. This is the year I decided to just get you a card. Then you blow me away with the most amazing Valentine’s Day gift you’ve ever given me. So, I was the one scrambling away at the last minute. Thanks for my heart attack. And the gift. (Romantic dinner at the restaurant where we had our first date, a night at the opera (Don Giovanni) and luxury hotel for the evening. He even took care of overnight babysitting for the kids.) Amazing. But then, so are you. xoxo

11 Comments

Filed under Holiday