Category: Parenting Joys

Getting ready for the school year is easy for me. The long list of supplies, buying new uniforms and shoes, stocking the fridge with lunch items, scoping out the new teacher… These are just items to tick off my to-do list. Certainly nothing to get weepy and emotional about.

Then yesterday morning as I chided my son to eat faster so he won’t be late for camp… as I always do, it hit me.

He’s going to be in Kindergarten. My BABY is going to be in Kindergarten!

Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was peering into a bassinet at the little person I just bore from my body?

Weak, dizzy, and in pain from my emergency c-section, I realized things are never going to go perfectly according to my plans ever again, but one thing was for certain. I love this tiny being so much that I would commit murder to protect him. Five years later, I’m somehow supposed to let him just grow up and leave me?

It’s such a paradox. You raise your children (hopefully) to be self-sufficient and independent adults. You expect that one day they will  lead lives of their very own, apart and away from you. Yet, in practice there’s a well of self-doubt making you want to rush in and take over at every step along the way.

It’s not like he hasn’t been gradually working up to Kindergarten. We both have. For the past two years, he’s been in preschool. It started with two half-days a week. By the end of this past school year, he was attending three full-days a week. This summer, I signed him up for camp five days a week, which was conveniently held at his school and offered swim lessons, sports, and field trips. Some of his friends and teachers from preschool would even be there, too. Zero transition angst, right? I thought I won the working mom jackpot until we walked into the first day and realized it was nothing like I expected…

It wasn’t the cozy, touchy-feely sandbox of preschool. It was CAMP… with big kids who were used to being pushed (rather than gently transitioned) from one activity to the next. It’s wasn’t snacks, circle time, and making sure he eats all of his lunch. It was games he could keep up with, rejection from kids who weren’t that interested in hanging out with a “little kid”, and answering to camp counselors who didn’t necessarily understand his little five-year-old idiosyncrasies.

By the second week, he made such a scene at morning drop-off that the camp director told me I couldn’t leave him if he was being hysterical. I realized this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought, but I had to work, I had meetings, I had OTHER stuff scheduled during this tiny sliver of time…

Reluctantly, I became THAT mom who writes letters to the teacher, demanding the special treatment and changes to the rules. He was quickly reassigned to a class called “Kindergarten Readiness”, ensuring that he was with the kids his own age all day. After that we had a rather pleasant summer, but what if I had  not intervened?

Our mornings were filled with much tears and anguish, so of course, I had to intervene. But  it’s a keen reminder that I’m not always going to be there to mediate, assess, and solve all of his world’s problems.  At some point, he has to do this one his own and I’m going to have to learn to let him.

Incidentally, I’ve decided to keep him home from his final days of camp so I can make googly eyes at him and randomly attack him with hugs and kisses. It’s my little way of  squeezing  every last drop of summer vacation, and possibly making sure he FULLY appreciates his hours of independence and self-sufficiency.

Remember: Leave a comment on this post for an additional entry into our Fill the Backpack giveaway. Each member of Splash Creative Media is offering a backpack overstuffed with over $750 worth of  Back to School merchandise.  Enter to win on any or on all of our blogs. 

Disclosure: This post is sponsored by Splash Creative Media as part of the Fill the Backpack Campaign. The thoughts and opinions expressed in this post are those of my own. 

My girl has been a “bink baby” since the day she was born, and I make no apologize for it.

Because, like me, she finds something she likes and sticks with it, she’s partial to the one type.  And because I am also lazy, I’ve never tried to break her of the habit.

The bink’s become a regular feature in our family photos and we make no apologize for that either.

Mike and I talked about maybe… when she’s two… perhaps we’ll try to get her to stop with the bink, but with her LOUD willful cries and its magical ability to soothe her instantly, it was easy to put it off. Then, sometimes opportunity presents itself and one simply cannot resist that either.

Earlier this week, I came home from BlogHer’11. Mike took the days off to stay home with the kids, so it was with an appreciative tone that I asked him, “Great googly-moogly! What the frying hash browns happened to the house while I was gone?” (expletives omitted). I had to get past the smell to which my family had scarily become accustomed in order to get to the mess.

Add to that several bags full of dirty laundry and swag.

It’s taken me three days to unpack my bags on to the living room… bedroom… hallway…  The house is very much still a disaster. Then, this afternoon, we lost the bink! 

So Lou went without her nap, and was completely undone by mid-afternoon. “Where bink, Mommy? Where bink?” she kept asking.

In desperation (or perhaps it was in madness), I crafted a fib so bold and so daring. In the most upbeat and effervescent tone that I could muster three-days post-conference, I casually suggested that, “The Bink Fairy must have taken it and given it to another baby.”

Lou paused. “A baby?”

“Yeah, because you’re a big girl! Not a baby anymore… oh, and she probably left you presents! Yeah, presents!”

“Is that really true, Mommy? Or you just making it up?” Scout asked.

My mouth said, “No, it’s very true. Just like the tooth fairy!” but my eyes in the rear view mirror were saying, “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

We were in the car and on our way home when I decided to fabricate my little deceit. It was nearing dinner time and there’s no way I could slip out before bedtime to find thoughtful and clever “presents from the bink fairy” that neither of them had seen before.  You would think with the amount of swag I brought home there would be something… but good little blogging fodder that they are, my children were ransacking my bags before we could step out of the airport terminal.

Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.

Just as I was pulling into our drive way, I noticed a box by our front door. Is it? Could it be? IT WAS! 

It was the box that I had shipped home from BlogHer, containing all of the swag that did not fit in my bags. Most of it was from the THIRTY pounds of toys, books, and games that I received from The Big Toy Book’s Sweet Suite party at BlogHer. Not all of it came home with me. Some items were shared with my roommates, the Nap Warden and the Five Dollar Shake, who also have adorable girls and one very charming boy waiting at home for them. From what I’ve heard, it’s made for some happy squeals!

As my kids ate dinner in another room, I tore open the box and found the PERFECT items.

Tonight, the “Bink Fairy” will be leaving my daughter the following items by her bedside:

Seen in photo: LadyBug Girl and the Bumble Bee Boy and LadyBug Girl doll and an I Spy Wonder Tube

She was also so kind as to provide a little hush present for Scout, too…

Seen in photo: (clock- wise) HexBugs Glow in the Dark Starter set, KRE-O Transformers Optimus Prime Construction Set, GrowUms “Taco Garden” kit, and Jungle Speed

 Thank you, The Big Toy Book and KidVuz, for the fantastic party at BlogHer 2011 and definitely for helping me save face.

Disclosure: I received an amazing collection of toys from  The Big Toy Book and KidVuz at the The Big Toy Book Sweet Suite party at BlogHer 2011. Not all of them made it home with me. The views and options expressed here are my own and do not reflect those of  the Bink Fairy or anyone else. 

At around 1:30 am every night, I hear Lou scream in her sleep, “No Mommy. No Mommy. I not want you. I want DADDY!”

Because it’s not enough for her to hate me when she’s awake, she dreams about it too.

The last few days, she’s taken to screaming fits like that ones that used to consume most of her day (and mine) when she was just a wee little infant. It’s the same never-ending, blood-curling, inconsolable howl that drove me into post-partum depression and thoughts of driving into a highway divider. (Yes, I am serious. No, not with the kids. Of course, I got help.)

Once a tenacious foodie, she now turns her nose at anything that doesn’t come in a pouch or resemble a peanut butter sandwich. And by “turn her nose”, I mean chunk  it across the table, wiggle her way out of her booster chair to stand on top of it, and yell, “NO, MOMMY! I not want that!”

Oh! And then there’s the attitude… loads of it!

Although her second birthday isn’t until Friday, I’ve been calling it  two-year-old angst. Her teacher at daycare warned me that this was coming.

“It happens to all of the kids. They turn two and suddenly… they just change.”

“No, not my Baby Girl,” I answer in disbelief. Hugging Lou a little closer, I asked her for reassurance, “You’re not going to change, are you, Love?”

With that she flung her lunch bag at me and said, “Mommy, (deep, dramatic sigh) let go.” I guess that was my answer.

It’s moments like these that I  forget how much I wanted her; how much I ached for a second baby, not knowing if I was ever going to have one. Now, I can’t imagine life without her. She is more sass and spark than I was prepare to handle, and more “me” than I care to admit.

I know it’s not right to label your children or attribute your traits to them, but I can’t help but notice that she is every bit my carbon copy– from the shape of her derriere to her “you’re dead to me” stare when she stands corrected. So even though she’s been insane to deal with recently, I understand her completely. I can’t help but pity and love her at the same time for having inherited the best and worst of me.

If you try to show her the proper way to use a fork, she will shut down completely, chucking her plates (again) and refusing to speak to you. I had a similar tantrum when Mike refused to order the take-out dishes I requested.

“Why are you making this so difficult?! Fine, let’s just not EAT dinner!”

Perhaps choosing to freak out about money and quibble about an $8 entree at the specific moment when all I wanted was Pad Thai from Ginger Cafe was not the best move, but he and I got it sorted it quickly. My temper may run white hot, but it cools just as fast.

Let’s just hope Lou will be coming around soon too. I don’t know how many more nights I can listen to this. Because of all the things my daughter and I may have in common, impatience and difficulty accepting criticism are tied for first.

When it comes to potty training, my faithful, tried, and true advice remains:

It doesn’t matter when your toddler is ready for potty training. If you’ve even considered starting it, they probably are. It’s a matter of when YOU are ready to deal with the messy floors and messy pants.

When my daughter chose the Fourth of July to declare her independence (from diapers), I did not flinch an inch. It all started because she refused to wear a diaper. For all I know, this could have been because she’s almost two and trying to push her agenda any way that she can. Or, she really could be done with diapers. Either way, I just went with it.

She was so enthusiastic when I suggested we try using the potty instead; how could I not go along with it, right?

This reaction, by the way, is typical for me. I’m more likely to ask “why not?” instead of “why”.  I’m also not one to go halfway… on anything. So, when Lou decided she was done with diapers, I didn’t hesitate to put her in a *clean* pair of Thomas the Tank Engine undies, a hand-me-down from her big brother.

(Don’t judge. It’s what I had available, okay! We can discuss whether or not that is gross later.)

My husband, on the other hand, proceeded to panic in the face of something new and different, because that response is typical of him.

Aaaaaand because Lou isn’t even TWO years old yet and may not have been entirely clear on the concept of “going potty”, it took her less than an hour to wet her pants.

“Not bad for a first time,” I thought. Meanwhile, Mike had already mustered himself into a full freak-out…

“No! No! No! That was baaaaad. Very bad, Lou. You made a mess. Now I have to clean up this MESS. Bad! Hiss. Hiss,” he yelled in exactly the way one is NOT supposed to approach potty training.

We tried again and again, but after an single day of false starts and more freaking out, two things became quite evident:

1. Lou may have been ready (or not). I was very ready, but Mike was definitely NOT ready…

2. I could kiss my visions and subsequent savings of a diaper-free life “Bu-bye” for now…

So, how fortuitous that I was recently asked to review the newly re-launched line of MomtoMom® diapers and training pants from Safeway.

What can one really say about a diaper? When it works and you don’t have to think about it, it’s great. When it doesn’t, that’s when you have plenty to say about it…

According to the press materials provided, MomtoMom® diapers “offer better leakage control, perfect fit waistband and tabs, an ultra absorbent core, and a super soft hypoallergenic liner with Aloe, Vitamin E, and organic botanicals.” The training pants were similar except they offered “easy open sides”, so you can pull the dirties off quicker.

That’s all good and well, but bottom line (pun intended) for me is, “Do they work?”

While Lou may not be able to give me a thorough critique of her new nappies, she does seem to find them far less objectionable than her previous ones. There have been no leaks, rashes, or accidents. In fact, I haven’t given them much thought, which is precisely what I look for in a diaper.

However, one detail the press materials left off was that the MomtoMom® diapers are also cheaper than the ones we were previously buying. So while I may not have found potty training success in a single day, I did find a less expensive alternative to the “name brand” we were using. I count that to be a win, too.

So here is the Giveaway…

TWO (2) lucky readers of FormerlyGracie.com will each win a $25 gift card to Safeway courtesy of MomtoMom®

(The gift cards can also be used at any of these affiliates including: Tom Thumb, Vons, Dominick’s, Genuardis, Randalls, and Pavillions)

TO ENTER: Leave a comment sharing your best potty training tip, tale, or horror story! Be sure to include your email and/or Twitter handle in your entry to be valid.

DEADLINE: Drawing held at midnight PST on Wednesday, July 20th. Please see fine print below for more rules.

For extra entries you must complete the above comment and do any or all of the following

Like Formerly Gracie Blog on Facebook

Tweet this daily and leave the link in the comments: @graceduffy is giving away two $25 @Safeway giftcards from#momtomom #diapers. Enter to win:http://ow.ly/5CWJ3 (Pl RT)

Subscribe to Formerly Gracie via RSS Feed and let me know you’ve done so in the comments.

Follow @graceduffy on Twitter.

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Fine print: One winner will be randomly selected by Random.org on July 20, 2011 and contacted via email or Twitter.  If winner comment does not meet the aforementioned criteria by containing the necessary contact information, another winner will be selected.  Winner must provide name and US mailing address for direct shipment of gift card within 24 hours of being contacted or an alternate winner will be selected.  Grace Duffy, Safeway, and MomtoMom are not responsible for items lost or delayed in shipping.

Additional disclosures: By entering this giveaway you, agree to the following. You release of Facebook of any responsibility and acknowledgment that the promotion is in no way sponsored, endorsed or administered by, or associated with, Facebook.  Any information you provide is shared with Grace Duffy, Formerly Gracie.com, and Safeway only, and not to Facebook.

It is very fitting that our rowdy and rebellious daughter chose today to declare her independence from diapers. The rest of us are just going with it…

Also, please do not send hate mail. Being home-bound and tracking piddle is not my idea of celebrating freedom and liberty. This is all her!