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May 22, 2008

A Birthday Party Quandary

May 22, 2008 By

In a perfect world, we would be celebrating Mira’s first birthday today, the 21st. But the little diva decided that she wasn’t going to comply with some arbitrary due date, and instead waited another six days to make her appearance.

And while her actual birthday is next Tuesday, we’re having her party this Saturday, because adult schedules don’t always match up with baby birthdays. This will be the first party where Cordy is not a focus or THE focus of the celebration.

We’ve been dealing with some jealousy again from Cordy. Cordy’s recent hugs look more like take downs. Mira is practicing standing and taking her first tentative steps, but any cheer to encourage her ends with Cordy doing something to get the focus on her. Like pretending to fall down and “hurt” herself. Or just tripping Mira and laughing wildly.

And while I understand that she wants attention too, that doesn’t mean I’m going to completely ignore my younger daughter. I think she expects us to be all oh, Cordy, you’re the only one we care about! This other kid? Eh, just kick her if she gets in the way. She’s a big bore to be around anyway – can’t even walk yet! Don’t worry, we’ll only cheer YOUR accomplishments!

It’s getting old.

So when planning this party, my mother suggested, “I’m going to bring a gift for Cordy. You might consider getting her some gifts, too.”

“But it’s not her birthday, mom. She’ll get lots of attention when it’s her birthday. Isn’t Mira allowed to have her own day?”

“Cordy needs to know that she’s special, too.”

I can see her position, sort of. I mean, Cordy got presents when Mira was born. Sort of a peace offering of here, this little screaming being is about to usurp your power and guarantee you’re not the center of attention 100% of the time from here on out, but here’s a cute little stuffed animal and t-shirt to make it all better, so go give your new sister a kiss. She’s had to deal with a lot of change since then, and seeing everyone spend a day lavishing attention and gifts on Mira could cause some hurt feelings, or a rebellion that I really don’t want to deal with.

But at the same time, I want Mira to have her own special time, too. I’ve heard the stories of younger siblings who felt like they never got enough attention because they always had another sibling to deal with. Cordy had nearly three years all by herself – two birthdays and three sets of Christmas, Hanukkah, and Easter to be the solo golden child. Mira will never have that. Shouldn’t her birthday be that one day where it’s all about her?

I was an only child, so I never had to deal with this issue. Well, I did, but not in the same way. My birthday and my mom’s birthday are a day apart on the calendar, so I never had a family birthday party that wasn’t a joint party. I never even had my own cake – it was always a shared cake.

So I need your help, oh friends in my little electronic box: do we give Cordy a present? Should we help ease her sibling jealousy and show her that even though the party is for Mira, she gets cake, presents, and attention too? Or do we tell her to suck it up and get over herself, because life’s not fair and occasionally you have to step into the shadow and let someone else have their moment?

What do I do? Should I find some way to recognize Cordy at Mira’s birthday party? Or do we put the focus on Mira alone?

Filed Under: Cordy, growing up, Mira, sisterhood


May 20, 2008

Complicated Workout Equipment Isn’t For Me

May 20, 2008 By

CityMama is giving away a Wii Fit (and a Wii), but the condition is you have to tell your most embarrassing fitness story to win. Despite my best attempts, I wasn’t able to get in on the pre-sale of the Wii Fit, and I want one baaaaad, so if I must share my shame with you to have a chance at one, I will.

OK, Spring, 1995. The second half of my freshman year in college. My university had just opened a state-of-the-art rec center. It was the only workout facility for the entire campus population. It was enormous. The cardio workout room alone took up the entire second floor of the east wing, with 75+ machines and workout stations available for use.

What you need to know ahead of time was that this was a very image conscious university. Lots of perfect people, filling the rec center all hours of the day and night, working out obsessively to maintain that beautiful image. (And the women in this group always cleared out the salad bar at every dining hall. Try a burger, ladies!)

And then there was me. Not perfect. Not even close, really. I’ll admit to being intimidated by all of those pretty people. But a friend of mine was also a fitness nut, and knowing that I wanted to fit in, convinced me to join her three days a week at the rec center. It also helped that a guy we were friends with would be there, too, and I had a serious thing for him.

So there we were, 7pm on a weeknight, and as usual the place was packed. Elliptical machines were all the rage at the time, and the sign-up sheet to use one of them was filled for the night. The treadmills were also taken, and when I suggested the bikes my friend rolled her eyes and told me that stationary bikes would never give me the real workout I needed.

Our guy friend found us at this point. I was ready to suggest walking the indoor track – you know, a nice low-impact, lazy, scaredy-cat easy workout, but he surveyed the room (he practically lived at the rec center, and knew every machine in this place) and said, “If you want an awesome workout, you should try the NordicTrack.”

For those who aren’t aware, this is the NordicTrack:


Only the one at the rec looked bigger and more complicated. The woman, however, looks NOTHING like me.

I should also add that not only was I overweight at this point in my life, I wasn’t exactly known for my coordination, either. I had sprained my foot earlier in the school year by falling down one step. But at the urging of my two friends – one of which I was trying to impress – I examined the machine. It looked a little scary. Treadmills I had figured out in high school, and I had been on an elliptical once without any injury. But this looked like some medieval torture device. I wasn’t even sure what body part went where, other than my feet.

My guy friend jumped on one of the NordicTrack machines (which, in a room full of occupied machines, these were conspicuously empty of able-bodied fitness nuts) and in a few swooshing motions, showed me how to use it. I tried to play it cool, saying, “Oh yeah, I remember now! I used one of these back in high school. Piece of cake!”

He jumped off the machine in one graceful movement, wandering off to say hi to one of his buddies staffing the towel desk nearby. My female friend turned to me: “Well, let’s get going. We should get in some kind of a workout before this place closes for the night.”

“It closes at midnight, Jen. I think we have time.”

“Yeah, I know. I was planning on being here for a few hours. No pain, no gain, right?” she said with a smile. I wondered at that point how I missed the sadistic streak in her earlier.

I hesitated, looking at the NordicTrack ski machine, realizing I really had no idea how to use it. But I watched my guy friend use it – he made it look effortless. I glanced around at all of the beautiful people around me, happily gliding through the motions of their particular machines, all as graceful as figure skaters. I can do this, I thought, I’ll just get on and glide. This might be so easy that I won’t even feel like I’m getting a workout!

Taking a deep breath for confidence, I climbed onto the machine. I carefully put my feet into the toe holds, maintaining my balance so I didn’t move either ski. My friend took the machine next to me.

I shuffled my feet back and forth slowly, not more than a few inches each way, to test the skiing motion. It seemed pretty easy. Eh, this is easy, I thought. Oh, how cocky and unknowing I was in that moment.

The next events were only a few seconds and play in slow motion in my mind. I reached for the hand grip for my right hand (refer to picture for what I’m talking about), and when I did that, my weight shifted and my right foot suddenly shot out behind me on the right ski. That, of course, forced the left one forward and my upper half pitched forward onto the belly rest to keep my balance.

At that point I aborted grabbing for the right hand grip and tried to regain my balance by bringing my legs back together, but I didn’t anticipate just how easily those skis moved. As I summoned the strength to pull my legs back together, I overcompensated and in one swift motion they shot the other direction – the right going forward, the left going back. Only this time, I had been holding my upper body upright, and now it was moving backwards too.

The force of this sudden, uncontrolled motion sent me flying backwards off the machine. I remember looking briefly over at my friend and saw the confused expression on her face as I fell. I don’t remember the rest of the fall, although I heard a yelp. I was so outside of my own body at that point that I didn’t realize the screech was mine. Before I knew it I was staring at the lights hanging from the ceiling, followed by my two friends and one of the rec center workers standing over me. My guy friend looked horrified, but Jen could barely contain her laughter.

“What the hell?” she asked, trying to stifle her giggles. “Are you OK?”

“I…yeah, I think I’m fine. Can we please leave? I don’t want everyone to stare at me.” I started to sit up, realizing one foot was still on the instrument of my flight. I gently extracted my foot from the machine.

She couldn’t help but laugh at that point. “It’s a little late for that!”

I looked up, and saw several of those beautiful faces staring at me. Everyone on that end of the workout room heard me yell and saw my subsequent tumble from the NordicTrack, and now their eyes were all fixed on me. (Although I should point out that very few of them stopped their workout – most were still going, just with their heads turned in my direction. Priorities, people.) Some looked concerned, but most looked at me like I was a puppy chasing my tail – amusing and pathetic at the same time.

My guy friend helped me up. “Maybe you should try something a little…safer…like walking the track.” He was trying to be helpful, but I felt humiliated.

“Yeah, I’ll do that…” I mumbled.

The guys at the towel desk were still smirking, and applauded me as I walked past. “Nice dismount,” one laughed. “You totally made tonight more interesting.” My already red face burned hot as I hurried towards the locker room.

I didn’t go back to the rec center until the next school year, and even then I stuck to the track for the first several months. I had never made such a fool of myself in front of 100+ people before, and the bruises healed far faster than my embarrassment.

See? This is why I need a Wii Fit. The balance board is less complicated, and if I do fall off it, at least there’s no one around to stare and laugh.

Filed Under: clearly insane, me me me, memories


May 19, 2008

Family Time

May 19, 2008 By

Thanks to gas prices and a three year old who had spent the week suffering behavior regressions and tantrums, we found ourselves without plans for the entire weekend. Realizing this was a rare opportunity, Aaron and I both (mostly) avoided our computers and spent the entire weekend focused on the girls.

It was relaxing. And fun. And sorely needed. I think Cordy’s behavior last week was a combination of eating something that she had a reaction to, and having her schedule thrown off because Aaron is busy directing a play and hasn’t been home for bedtime most evenings. Whatever the reason, she had a short fuse and while I shouldn’t need to clarify that I love my daughter, I didn’t want to be around her much last week. Everyone was tired, frustrated, and in need of a lot of attention.

So Saturday, Aaron decided to make up for the missed bedtimes by having a daddy-Cordy day. After lunch, they went to a playground for awhile, and then he took her out for ice cream. Just the two of them – no attention-seeking little sister to get in the way.

When they came home, Cordy wanted to play in the backyard, so we gladly took the suggestion, and spent the remainder of the day digging in the sand table, kicking a soccer ball around, and having fun as a family.

Sunday was spent indoors, and not only did we have more family time, we also managed to get some cleaning done. You know I hate cleaning, and I’ll tell you that Aaron might just hate it even more than me. Cordy and Mira also think of toys strewn over the floor as an interior decorating choice, rarely helping to put them away. As a result, you can clearly see the clutter in many of our pictures, doing the equivalent of the drunk guy in the background of a news report waving and making faces.

But now? Did you know we have a floor under all of that clutter?

Next project – finding new rugs to replace the fugly ones my mom insisted we use.

Amazing, isn’t it? A lot of toys were culled from the herd, and the large plastic monstrosities (Jumperoo, etc.) were shipped off to a resale shop, never to be seen in our living room again. We did far more cleaning after that picture, too. We’re not exactly ready for a real-estate showing or anything like that, but it looks good.

After the girls were in bed last night, we found our way back to our internet lives and our multiple jobs. Aaron and I looked at our clean floor, reflecting on the generally positive weekend, and made a vow that we need to do this more often.

Oh, you said put things away? Sorry, uhm, where would you like this water bottle?
Filed Under: Aaron, Cordy, family time, Mira


May 19, 2008

The Best Gifts From Grandparents

May 19, 2008 By

As a child, I got some pretty awesome gifts from my grandmothers. Remember the first year for Cabbage Patch Kids? Remember the chaos that ensued from parents and grandparents elbowing each other to try to get their hands on one of those hot little dolls? Yeah, my grandmother was one of those people, standing in the toy store crowd before Christmas as the nervous stock boys threw boxes into the crowd. And that Christmas I squealed with joy as I unwrapped my curly headed Madeline Eva.

Years later, my other grandmother gave me one of the best surprises ever. I received a small Casio keyboard when I was in elementary school, along with a “Teach Yourself Piano” book, and I worked hard to learn how to play. That hard work paid off, and in middle school there was a knock at our door on a cold, snowy December night. I opened the door to find a couple of large guys standing on our porch, telling me they had a piano to deliver. My jaw nearly hit the ground as they brought in a gorgeous upright piano and positioned it in our living room. My mom then told me that my grandmother bought it for me for Christmas, so I could play something with more than two and a half octaves.

Cordy will learn to play on the same piano.

My mom must have taken notes on good gifts, because she always picks the right thing for our girls. She has been kind to my ears and rarely bought loud electronic toys – actually, she rarely buys toys for the girls, unless it is something that is educational in some way. She’s more likely to give them clothing (OK, they may hate that in another year or two) or pay for an activity, like a soccer class or swim lessons.

Aaron’s parents sometimes give cash, and sometimes give gifts. The cash goes to savings accounts for each girl, and the gifts are generally toys. Both are generally well-received.

But the gift that the grandparents give the most is their time. Cordy practically vibrates when she sees her grandmother and g.g. (my grandmother, her great-grandmother), and she begs to go “fishing” at her grandpa and bubbie’s house (they have a small goldfish pond in their backyard, where she feeds the fish and spends time playing with them). The time spent with their grandparents will give them memories to last their lifetimes.

Do your kids receive good gifts from their grandparents?

This post is a part of the Parent Blogger Network blog blast, sponsored by the Grandkids Gift Guide. They’re giving away Kushies Zolo Toys and a $50 Starbucks gift card. There’s still time to enter – just get your post in before midnight tonight! Read the full details at their blog.

Filed Under: family time, memories, shameless promotion


May 16, 2008

You Think I’m Strict?

May 16, 2008 By

I’ve been accused of being a strict parent before. Other parents have rolled their eyes at me and told me it was no big deal if my daughter didn’t say “please” and “thank you” at this age, and told me I was too harsh for dropping everything and leaving a playground if rules were broken. I was accused of being a helicopter mom because I wouldn’t let my three year old play in the front yard by herself.

But I’d like to think that setting boundaries now will make my job easier when Cordy wants to wear makeup at eight years old, or begs for a tattoo at fifteen. Hopefully, she’ll know the rules well enough to not even ask about those things. (Oh please oh please!) I don’t think I’m being too harsh, though – I give Cordy plenty of freedom within the boundaries of the rules.

Now I can say that a celebrity mom agrees with me. Actually, she’s more strict, and she knows far more than me about how to properly raise kids. Read my review of the book Mama Rock’s Rules to find out more about the parenting advice offered by Chris Rock’s mother.

Filed Under: reviews Tagged With: