Rules (Were Made to be Broken)

Rules and structure are what keep us afloat- especially in my house.  We have daily schedules with pictures that make them easy and fun for the kids to follow.  We have a meal-planning schedule that makes it easy to know what to cook each night and what to buy at the grocery store.  The kids don’t complain about what’s for dinner, because it’s on the schedule.  In fact they are excited to check the schedule and know what to expect for dinner each night.

My most fundamental parenting rule has always been to do what ever is best for me and my child at any particular point in time.

Sometimes, I am so rooted in rules and structure that I forget my most fundamental rule.

Judah, age 15 months, still nurses anywhere from 2-4 times a day.  It was my plan to wean him by the time Shimmy and I leave for our long-awaited trip to Hawaii in March.  By that time Judah will be close to 17 months.  That seemed like a reasonable time to stop nursing.  I had a mental schedule of when to start cutting out nursing sessions.  But now that it’s time to start, I don’t want to.  And I doubt Jude wants to.  I think about it, struggle with it, every time I nurse him.  So I’ve decided to nix my schedule.  I’m going to let things happen organically and hope for the best.  I can reassess when the trip gets closer.  And when I get back from the trip, if I want to try to pick up nursing where I left off, and Jude does too, we can nurse indefinitely. 

Lilah, age almost 4, has been having some sleeping issues.  For weeks, she wakes in the middle of the night and cannot go back to sleep.  Which means, neither can I.  For the first week or so I did everything by the books.  I walked her back to her room; I reassured her; I made a chart for incentive to stay in her bed all night.  It wasn’t working.  Then I decided to break the rules.  I let her sleep with me two nights in a row when she woke up.  The next night we both slept in her bed when she woke up. A small part of me was worried about establishing bad habits and patterns, but a larger part of me just wanted to sleep.  It felt like the right decision.  This morning she woke only minutes before our established wake up time.  She finally got to put the first sticker on her chart!

For Sophie’s birthday this year we forwent the usual large birthday party.  We had a smaller party with just family.  I brought cupcakes to her classroom on her birthday.  The next day we broke the rules and let her skip school.  We got our nails done, went out to lunch, and went shopping at the mall.  It was fantastic to break with convention and avoid the big party. 

Rules are great, and most of the time, very necessary.  But rules can be broken, and sometimes that is very necessary too.

SAD

The trees are bare.
It is dark at 5pm.
It is bitterly cold outside.
Thanksgiving is over.
All three kids have bad colds; one has croup too.

Seasonal Affective Disorder has officially started to set in.

Time to decorate for Chanukah in a feudal attempt to keep the blues at bay.

114 days until Spring.

A Decidedly Divided Thanksgiving

One of the reasons I don't make more of an effort to blog more often is because I feel like I keep friends and family up to date on facebook, and I try to tweet my funny mom thoughts.  But something I have recently noticed on Facebook has inspired me to blog.

Over the past few days my Facebook newsfeed has been decidedly divided. Half of my friends are constantly updating their statuses, posting pictures, and sharing articles about the current war in Israel.  the other half of my friends are posting pictures of their children dressed up as turkeys and pilgrims, sharing Pinterest recipes, and updating their statuses to say what they are thankful for. I am also decidedly divided. My heart is in the East and am in the end of the West. I have spent the past few days marveling at the costumes and decor my girls have brought home from school.  I have perfected my menu (see below) and begun cooking.  I have reflected on what I am deeply thankful for.

I have been scared.  I have been sad.  I have contacted friends in targeted areas of Israel to make sure they are safe. I have "adopted" an IDF soldier. I imagine Yehudah Zalman ben Fayge Miriam in a protective bubble of all of the love, prayers, and positive energy I have been sending his way. I have donated money for warm clothes and food for the soldiers that keep Israel safe.

As I bake delicious pies, stuffing, and scones I am thankful to be in my warm, safe home preparing delicious food for my wonderful friends and family. But with every rocket launched (and blown up by the iron dome), news report I hear, and picture I see, I am thankful most of all for Israel, its courageous citizens, and the brave soldiers that keep the country, people, and spirit safe.  May God watch over them and keep them safe.

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone.  Stay safe, peaceful, and happy; surrounded by the people and things you love!
My Thanksgiving Weekend Menu:

Thanksgiving Dinner:

Oven-roasted turkey
Tofu stuffing
Cornbread butternut squash stuffing
Garlic mashed potatoes
Sesame string beans
Cranberry-apple crisp

Pumpkin pie
Pecan pie


Breakfast treats:

Raspberry white chocolate scones

Friday Night Dinner:

Challah
Roasted vegetable soup
Glazed chicken
Meatballs
Rice Pilaf with Edamame

Pumpkin pie
Pecan pie

Saturday Lunch:

Challah
Sweet and Sour Brisket
Thanksgiving Leftover Mini-Pies (individual pie shells filled with some of each leftover Thanksgiving Dinner dish such as turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberry-apple crisp, etc.- YUM!)

Happy Birthday, Judah Jack!

My beautiful boy is 1 :)

First Day of School

Before the first day of school this year I had a terrible case of nerves.  I worried all day. I couldn't sleep that night.  Not because I was nervous about school (though I do remember that feeling all too well).  Not even because I was worried about how the girls would fare.  I was anxious about how I was going to pull off the morning routine on my own.  I do not usually do the morning carpool.  That is left to Shimmy, who drops the girls off on his way to work.  My job is to get everyone up, dressed, fed, bags packed, and waiting by the door for their ride (aka Daddy).  While this is harder than the task of driving them to school, I can do it all in my pajamas with a big mug of coffee in my hand.  After I see them off, I clean up from breakfast, tend to Jude, and get on with my day.  I like the way this works.  Unfortunately, it was brought to my attention on Tuesday afternoon that I would have to do all of my usual morning jobs, plus get Sophie to school at 8:00am and attend Lilah's orientation with her at 9:00am.  And bring Jude along and keep him happy.  That is when the nerves set in.

And, yet, it was fine!  Despite my lack of sleep, the morning played out like a well-orchestrated symphony.  We even had time for our traditional first day of school picture:

I made it to school, with all three kids in tow, on time.  We took Sophie to her classroom, hugged her goodbye, and walked down the hall to the lobby, where we camped out for the next 45 minutes or so.  I fed Jude his breakfast, and then we all read books.  Someone took a picture of us and we made it onto the school's website:

We had a great time at Lilah's orientation doing crafts, having a tea party, and making new friends.  Then it was time to leave!

When we got home, I set Lilah up with a snack, and I put Jude down for his nap.  After surviving the morning I had so fretted over, my initial instinct was to change back into my pajamas and get back into bed.  Which is exactly what I used to do after the first day of school (and any other hard day) right up through graduate school.  I guess coping mechanisms die hard.

A couple of hours later, I changed back into my clothes to greet our old babysitter who is back from her year abroad!  I headed out to run errands I had been unable to run during the past two and a half weeks (no camp, no school, therefore no extended trips to the grocery store).  Then I picked up Sophie, who had a great first day!  Thankfully, I had a great first day too.  Although, the second day, with both girls in school from 8:00am-3:45pm was even better :)

Opposite Sides of the World

For a week this month, our family was divided on opposite sides of the world.  Shimmy and Sophie went to Israel for a week to celebrate our nephew's bar mitzvah.  Lilah, Judah, and I stayed home.  While Shimmy and Sophie were taking in views like these:

View of Jerusalem from the porch

The desert, on the way to the Dead Sea

We were going about our regular activities:

Lilah, joining my workout session

 Our family had never been divided this way before.  It was a little odd.  We missed each other.  We missed out on some of each other's milestones:

Sophie lost her first tooth

Jude turned 10 months

But, it was also nice in some ways.  Lilah began to see Jude as a playmate, which she had not really done before.  They interacted with each other and played nicely.  It was a great bonding experience for them.  My relationship with Lilah benefitted as well.  She was suddenly my oldest, so she became my helper, confidant, and buddy.  We really enjoyed each other's company.  Without the noise (both enthusiastic and argumentative) of the two girls, the house was a lot quieter.  It was peaceful and pleasant.  We had fun playing at home, and also went out on some fun outings.  We missed our other two-fifths a lot over Shabbat.  I had not spent shabbat apart from Shimmy in nearly ten years.  It was reported to me that Sophie had a hard time with the separation as well.  Early Tuesday morning we were all reunited and happy for our family to be in one place again!  We spent the day together catching up.

Reunited and enjoying a picnic in the playroom

People of Walmart

It's that wonderful time of year again- back to school.  While I am excited beyond words that school is resuming, I do not care much for the back to school shopping.  I understand the need for some extra items beyond what is supplied by school (notebooks, pencils, and the like), but I don't really understand why the school (or the state) cannot provide my children with boxes of tissues.  So, because each of my girls has a sizable supply list, and because we are in that horrible camp-is-over-but-school-hasn't-started-yet time period, I decided to take all three kids back to school shopping.  And because I already spend more on tuition for my kindergartener and preschooler than my parents spent on my college tuition (state school- GO TERPS!), I decided to forgo my usual store of choice (Target) and get me some bargains at Walmart.  Except, GOOD GOD, I hate that place.  The school supply aisle was a mob.  Halfway through our lists, we had to abandon our cart for a bathroom trip.  The bathroom was disgusting.  I won't describe it.  However, as a PSA: Please leave your stall the way you would want to find it.  And a friendly reminder: if an automatic flusher does not flush, there is usually a way to flush it manually so that the next person doesn't have to deal with your mess.  Ugh!  Then we resumed our shopping only to have to settle on items that were similar enough to the ones on the list.  These teachers are crazy specific.  I mean, do they even go to the stores first to make sure they sell the items they tell us to buy?  I refuse to go all over town to find a six pack of assorted colored dry erase markers that have low odor.  There was not one pack that met all of that criteria.  I ended up paying more for something like a 14 pack.  And the only 64-crayon box I could find was not Crayola brand (as specified on the supply list), so we bought an (gasp!) off brand.  Once we were making good headway, another bathroom trip was requested.  But this time we got there too late and I had to leave Sophie outside the bathroom with Jude and our cart, while I cleaned up Lilah.  We fought through the masses of people to finish up our shopping.  When we checked out, our cart full of items (school supplies and other things too) totaled less than $100.  That was more satisfying than I thought it would be.  I am fairly certain I would have spent double that at Target.  But it may have been worth it.

Trying Something New

My head is always filled with ideas for blog posts.  My draft box is always full of half-written posts.  I only ever seem to have time to share a sentence at a time.  I very much want to keep blogging.  But I also want to be able to share more thoughts more often.  So I'm going to try something new.  While you wait for me to have time to write complete and articulate blog posts here, you can read incomplete and inarticulate thoughts here.  See y'all on twitter! @LateNightFeedin

Scary Mommy

I recently attended an event for a limited number of guests where I was privileged to hear Jill Smokler, author and blogger, read from her book and answer questions about parenting: of which she makes clear that she is not an expert.  There was a pediatrician to give real answers.  Jill was there to make us moms feel better about doing what we have to do to survive mothering.  She is the gang leader of all of us scary moms.  And judging by the amount of time she spent hanging out with my friend Julie and I, she liked me best.  I almost want to invite her to my next night out with my friends since she lives just a few miles away.  Almost.  That might be too stalkerish.  The night was a blast.  Forty moms packed into a room with cocktails, hors devours, and the freedom to speak our minds.  If you aren't familiar with Jill's blog, you should go over there as soon as you finish reading this one.  She provides an honest and hilarious look at motherhood.  There is also a confessional, where one can anonymously leave confessions about personal experiences and observations.  What I love the very most about the blog and book is that almost everything I read I have also thought or said at one time.  In that way, the blog/book provides a confirmation and camaraderie that I really enjoy.  It's so nice to know that I'm not the only scary mommy out there.

Jill Smokler and me

The cover of Confessions of a Scary Mommy

My autographed copy

My scary mommy confessions:

1. I was the first guest to arrive to the above mentioned event.  That was because I couldn't stand to be in my house for one more minute.

2. If I ever get divorced, laundry and dishes will be the reasons.

3. I make my three-year-old sleep in a pull-up at night, even though she always wakes up dry, because it's one less thing I have to worry about at night.

4. I sometimes have passive-aggressive fights with my husband that he very possibly is not even aware of.

5.  I don't have a monitor in my baby's room because I don't want to wake up with every peep he makes. If he is really crying, I will hear him and get him.  Otherwise, I'd rather not be disturbed.

6. I would do almost anything to get a good night's sleep every night for the rest of my life.  Or at least for the foreseeable future.  I'd even settle for a week's worth of uninterrupted sleep.  How about just tonight?  Please?!

7. I am very strict about what my kids eat, but I have my own secret stash of treats for when I need them.

8. Sometimes I opt to drive myself or my kids places instead of carpooling because I cannot stand being late- especially when it's someone else's fault.

9. I often have a glass of wine or a cocktail while the kids are eating dinner.  Everyone's happier that way.

10. Now that I am a working mom, I am busier than I have probably ever been, but I'm also the most fulfilled.

Feel free to leave a confession of your own in the comments section!

Moms Can't Get Sick

The old saying dictates that moms can’t get sick.  It’s with good reason.  Things fall apart.  Everyone suffers.  Even- especially- the moms, who have even more work to do once they are healthy again.  When I became a mom and realized just how vital my role was, I took the saying that moms can’t get sick one step further and started to tell myself: moms don’t get sick.  I can’t get sick, therefore I won’t get sick.  Mind over matter.  For the most part, this does work.  If I feel a cold coming on, I drink more liquids and take Zicam religiously.  I do not let myself believe that I am getting sick.  Most of the time I do not get sick. 

Last Friday I had an exceptionally busy day.  I had been cooking up a storm the entire week and Friday was the last day of cooking before three straight days of entertaining large crowds.  It was also the day I sliced the place where my right index finger meets my palm on a tin can.  My first thought was that I did not have time to seek medical attention.  I wrapped that finger in paper towel after paper towel until it finally stopped bleeding 45 minutes later.  In the meantime I continued prepping food with my left hand, washed a bunch of dishes, and drove the afternoon carpool.  Mind over matter. 

Once in a while this mantra does not work, and I am forced to succumb to sickness.  Sometimes these bad situations have a silver lining.  A few months ago I was stricken with a stomach virus.  I was bed-ridden.  I ate nothing for four straight days.  I drank only a cocktail of gingerale and powerade.   Once everyone, including myself, accepted the fact that I was very sick, we all fell into a makeshift routine.  My sister came to help one afternoon.  Shimmy came home earlier than usual and took care of the kids.  I did what I could, which was nurse the baby, drive carpool when there were no other options, and sit on the porch steps of a friend, who was afflicted with the same plague, while we watched our kids play with bubbles pour bubble solution on the ground, each other, and themselves.  It sounds horrible, right?  And it was.  Except for the part where I was bed-ridden, couldn’t do anything, and couldn’t eat.  I watched the entire first season of Downtown Abbey (OMG IT’S THE BEST SHOW EVER).  I got a well-deserved break from my 24/7 mom job.  And I lost three pounds, which I have successfully kept off!  In some ways it was a best week ever. 

A few weeks ago something similar happened.  I had had a migraine for close to a week straight.  My doctor suggested I try a new strategy which was to take my prescription meds + an OTC pain reliever.  I didn’t have that particular pain reliever at home, so I left Shimmy in charge, and headed to the store.  There was road work being done, so it took an extra long time to get there.  Once I had bought the pain reliever, I also decided to treat myself to some dark chocolate-covered almonds.  I headed back to my car to sit and eat my snack and take my pills.  Then I decided to pop into the wine store to stock up for the weekend.  They happened to be having an in-store wine tasting, so I sat down and had a nice time tasting wines and talking to the staff.  I headed home, my migraine mitigated, and my spirits lifted.  A day that began in excruciating pain ended up becoming a delightful afternoon of me time.

So, while it is true that moms can’t get sick, and shouldn’t get sick; sometimes they do.  And when they do, they should milk it for all it’s worth.  Because, before they know it, the jig will be up and they’ll have to get out of bed to start the 20 loads of laundry and two sinks full of dirty dishes that await them.

Seventh Heaven

Jude is now seven months old. What?!  How is that possible?!  Craziness! He is at my very favorite baby stage.  He sleeps 12 straight hours at night.  He takes two amazing two-hour naps each day.  He happily eats any pureed food I feed him.  He can sit and play with his toys (or watch his sisters) for nice amounts of time.  He babbles.  He laughs.  He snuggles.  He is adorable.  This is the age that I want to hold onto.  This is the age that upon realizing I can’t hold onto, I usually console myself by saying there will be another.  This time I’m not sure there will be.  And I want to stay here in Seventh Heaven snuggling and giggling with this perfect little boy as long as I can.

Mini Vacation

I recently took a mini vacation.  It felt so bizarre.  Freeing, yet awkward.  Fun, yet involved.  When my hockey team (The Washington Capitals, the only way you wouldn’t know this is if you don’t know me in real life or on Facebook) made it to the second round of Stanley Cup Playoffs I was determined to get to a game, no matter what it took.  Somehow, all of the planets aligned and I was able to go!  It was thrilling, right from the start.  It was my first time on the dc metro in years. I first took the elevator in the wrong direction, because they had completely redone the metro station since I was last there.  I didn’t know if it was “peak of peak” time, so I paid the higher fare just in case. I brought a book (Scary Mommy by Jill Smokler, whom I recently met- that’s a post for a different time!), but I was too excited to read. I felt young and full of possibility. I picked up my date (husband) from his place (office) and headed out to drinks with a fun gay couple (my sister and partner), and then we went to the Caps game, where they ultimately lost in triple overtime.

I had such a fun evening!  But, I couldn’t help but be consumed by the thought that so much preparation went into attending (what should have been a) three hour game. When Shimmy decides he wants to go to a game all he has to do it walk a few blocks. Which he does, about once a week during hockey season in its long entirety.  I, on the other hand, had to arrange for us to spend the night at my parents house, pack us all up, take out garbage, prepare for the cleaning lady who would be coming early the next morning, pick up the girls early from school, drive down to Silver Spring, go over the kids’ detailed schedule with my mom, pack a separate purse (with a hand pump among other things), get a ride to the metro, return to my parents’ house after the game, pack up all up early the next morning, drive the girls to school, and go home exhausted.  Although I wouldn’t want to go through all of those steps too often, it is worth it once in a while.  Everyone needs a mini vacation every now and then!

Taking Pause

My children are growing up so fast. Too fast. Each observation I make about each child (of which there are many during the course of a day) could become an entire blog post in itself. I just can’t keep up. So I am forcing myself to take pause right now and record some observations.

Sophie:

I can’t believe that the Sophie I see now was once my tiny six pound baby. She is a big kid now. She is smart, mature, funny, caring, and helpful. If either Lilah or Jude (or both) is home with me, I prefer Sophie to stay home too. She can entertain and sooth Jude almost as well as a non-parent adult. In some ways she is like a third parent to him. He recognizes her. His face lights up when he sees or hears her, which, in turn, makes my face light up. She recently walked herself to a friend’s house. She had to cross one street that rarely sees a car and then walk a ways down. I could see her the whole time. I watched with a mixture of pride and disbelief as she proudly walked farther and farther away, until she skipped up her friend’s driveway. And my heart skipped a beat.

Lilah:

Lilah has always had a wonderful personality. She has always been sweet, smart, and easy-going. Her vocabulary has always blown listeners away. Her smile has always been contagious. Recently I have observed another quality: self assurance. When she walks into a crowd of people she throws her arms open and exclaims, “Lilah is here!” She knows she is well-liked. She lays on the charm- and it works. Sophie has picked up on this too, and often sends Lilah as an emissary to the parents when one is needed on behalf of the kids. She enjoys playing with both her sister and brother. She gets along with everyone. People often worry about “middle child syndrome” when there are three siblings, but I am not worried. The middle child in our family is laid-back, self-assured, and high-achieving.

Judah:

When people ask me what kind of a baby Jude is, I often say, “he doesn’t know he’s the third child.” I had expected my third child to follow in the footsteps of my second child, who seamlessly fit in with our existing family upon birth. I had hoped for a happy, quiet, and low-maintenance baby. He had other plans. I say he doesn’t know he is the third child, but maybe he does know. Maybe it is precisely because he is my third that he feels he needs to make himself heard. He doesn’t want to sit on the sidelines. He wants to be nursed, held, cuddled, and talked to. And why shouldn’t he be? Firstborn children get the benefit of undivided attention from their parents and research proves that it leads to higher IQ scores, greater success, and other advantages in life. Although Jude’s high demands often inconvenience me, I am proud of his determination and ambition. And I am grateful for the extra one-on-one time I am forced to have with him.

The Elusive Shower

I have always showered daily (or nightly). Always. First, because that’s how we did things in my family when I was growing up. Later, because it was ingrained in me. When I became a mother, because it was 20 minutes of peace that I did not feel guilty demanding. Plus, it seemed necessary with all of the sweat, milk, spit up, etc. I know not everyone showers daily. I know people have different reasons for choosing their shower schedules. I never fully understood why someone would choose not to shower daily (or so it seemed) - until now. I now know that some people intend to shower daily, and really want to, but it just doesn’t happen. These people are victims of the elusive shower. Sadly, I am one of these people from time to time. Here’s how it happens. I am typically a night showerer. However; I might, for some reason, take a shower one morning instead. That night, I’ll skip the shower because I just took one that morning. The next morning I become too busy (with kids, work, errands, appointments, etc.) to shower. I reason with myself that I will take a shower that night, which will put me back on my preferred nighttime shower schedule anyway. That night the kids may give me a difficult time going to bed and it might take until late at night to get all three asleep. I might decide to relax with a tv show. It might be so late at this point that I fall asleep. Without showering. The next morning I wake up and realize that it’s been too long since I’ve showered. But I might as well wait to shower until after I’ve worked out. Then- you guessed it- I get busy with the kids, work, errands, appointments, etc. At some point I realize it has been MORE THAN TWO DAYS SINCE I’VE SHOWERED. At which point I turn the tv on a kids’ show and leave all three kids, some or all of them crying, to their own devices while I shower. And that is how I, and many other well-meaning, hygiene-conscious people, am plagued by the elusive shower.

I Don't Know How She Does It

The first paragraph is the beginning of a post I started writing weeks, maybe months, ago, and just came across today.

A few years ago, my friend and I read the book, I Don't Know How She Does It. (Ironically, the movie based in the book came out a few months ago, but my friend and I gave up trying to find a way to see it.) Even though I think I only had one child at the time, the book really resonated with me. Being a mom is hard. Being a mom and trying to also be anything else is really hard. It can seem impossible at times. Now that I have three children and a new career I feel like I am floundering around in a sea of stress just one big wave away from drowning. I ask myself: How can I do it all? And I answer myself: I can't do it all. And what I can do, I don't always do well. But I do my best. And my best is pretty damn good. And I keep swimming.

________________________________________________________________________________

At some point I realize how far I’ve swam, even though it has been hard at times. I realize I haven’t flailed in a while (haven’t cried in a while!). I’m getting somewhere. I think I see some land ahead. I can swim on. I want to!

Every once in a while, like today, the swimming is easy, manageable, almost boring. It is the first day of Spring/Passover Break. I had not made plans for today, and worried we would all be bored and the girls would spend all day watching tv and fighting with each other. I had given up hopes of making it to a hockey game tonight, but given Shimmy my blessing to go ahead (not without feeling very jealous). I pictured a long, difficult day and night. And, yet, the opposite has happened. Sophie was invited out for a play date. Lilah, who has sadly been suffering from allergies all week, has been watching tv in a Benadryl coma. I gave her a mani/pedi and have been sitting with her, but she has required no real attention. Jude has been napping for the past three and a half hours (I keep checking on him- he’s fine!). I have finished all of my Passover preparations and I’m actually kind of bored (hence the blog post!). On days like today, the swimming is smooth indeed. “Doing it all” is doable. I’ll keep today in mind when a rough day of swimming is upon me again.