Found my groove

Now I've just got to start living in it.
A lot of my motivation in starting this blog was to not so much write about my kid (though bragging is my right - and yours) but to write about ME. My experiences as a mom, compared to your experiences as a mom, with the end goal that we all feel a little less alone and more sane.
I, like a lot of Warner Robins women, live far away from my mom, and while I used to call her four or five times a day ("Is this normal?" and "You won't believe what he's doing now!") I need someone local to tell me - "hey, this restaurant has the best play area." Or, "stay away from this park - there's a massive bee's hive." So while I share my experiences, I also want to know that I am not the only one who's four-year-old is too busy playing to stop and go potty, and I'm not the first mom to pull a nutty when her kid locks his bedroom door and stands on the other side giggling as she threatens his young life unless "you unlock this door NOW, mister!"
So I started writing. It's something I did before I was a mom, and it's something I enjoy. So in my quest to get my groove back as a woman, I am doing more things that are less "mom" and more "Misty." That includes painting my toenails, indulging my obsession with rings, and writing. And you know what? I'm better able to deal with the constant needs of my son when I've met a few of my own needs.
Because they're not luxuries, these little parts of me, they are necessities. A happier, more relaxed mom is a better wife, a better friend, a better mom. And while that's not a revelation to any of us, the first time you make the time to put that thought into practice, I bet you'll be as shocked as I was.
--Misty

Mom's little helper

I forget sometimes how much Daniel is learning every day. So much is still new to him!
This weekend I decided to tackle the side yard. Our new house is great, but I think no one so much as mowed for the last two years. Certainly no weeding or cutting back has been done. And since our neighborhood has basically been carved out of a forest, there are a lot of trees and underbrush that need to be constantly monitored, lest they creep over the house itself! So far I have reclaimed the front yard, planting the things I want and getting rid of a number of other things. The side yard was a bigger challenge; the space between my and my neighbor's property had been taken over by vines, ivy, and a number of large bushes - "volunteers," if you will.
So I got what I could with the mower, then started pulling and hauling by hand. And here comes Daniel. "I want to carry sticks," he announced, holding out his arms. "Okay," I picked up the dead shoots I'd been pulling, avoiding the ones with thorns, and loaded him up. While they weigh less than paper, most of the shoots were taller than I am! But he dragged them out to the curb, added them to the pile I had going, and came back for more. Five or six trips later, we were done! So my little helper got a long ride on the tire swing as a reward, I learned I might have a gardener on my hands.
--Misty

Swimming lessons

I was plesantly surprised to discover how reasonable swimming lessons through the rec department are. $28 will get me a two-week "mommy and me" session, which will hopefully teach Daniel the basics. The best part: there are a number of sessions throughout the summer, so we can take more than one. Plus, that's two hours of guaranteed "mom and boy" time.
--Misty

The Meanest Mother

Whenever Daniel is pouting "I don't want to" or sulking because I won't let him do something, I remember this poem my mom has on her wall:

I had the meanest Mother in the world.  While other kids had candy for breakfast, I had to eat cereal, eggs and toast.  While other kids had cakes and candy for lunch, I had  a sandwich.  As you can guess, my dinner was different from other kids' dinners, too.
My mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times.  You'd thind we werre on a chain gang or something.  She had to know who our friends were and what we were doing.
I am ashamed to admit it, but she actually had the nerve to break the child labor law.  Sh made us work.  We had to wash dishes, make the beds and learn how to cook.  That woman must have stayed awake nights thinking up things for us kids to do.  And she insisted that we tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
By the time we were teenagers, she was much wiser and our llife became more unbearable.  None of this tooting the car horn for us to come running; she embarrassed us to no end by insisting that friends come to the door to get us.
I forgot to mention that most of our firends were allowed to date at the mature age of 12 or 13, but our old fashioned Mother refused to let us date until we were 15.  She really raised a bunch of squares.  None of us was ever arrested for shoplifting or busted for dope.  And who do we have to thank for this?  You're right, our mean mother.
I am trying to raise my children to stand a little straighter and taller and I am secretly tickled to pieces when my children call me mean.  I thank God for giving me the meanest Mother in the world.  Our country doesn't need a five-cent cigar.  It needs more mean Mothers like mine
Blessings on that wonderful woman.
 
Author Unknown
--Misty

Wardrobe wars and the my "seen" Barbie

My first wardrobe wars with my daugther came about the same time Faith was learning to dress herself. She'd pick out sleeveless shirts in January and Sunday dresses when she was planning to ride her jeep. Now she wants to change several times in one day.
About a month ago, I came home with an armful of bargains from one of my favorite biannual consignment sales. Faith had a field day. She would take an outfit into the bathroom - which was doubling as her dressing room - close the door, change and come out to model. She will likely have a very long, lean body like her Daddy. Pants that fit at the waist are too short and pants that are long enough are way too big in the waist.She likes her skirts long, so I understood when she pulled one down on her hips.Sure, that lengthened the hem, but also exposed her navel. I told her to pull up the skirt to her waist because her belly button was showing. She wanted her belly button to show, she said.
I had already been struggling with the adult-looking attire I was seeing in the stores for toddlers, now I have a 5-year-old who is not the least bit modest about her midriff. It's frightening.Where in the world did she develop an affinity for exposure? Then I saw the new "My Scene" Barbie dolls. "My Seen" is more like it with their halter tops and hip huggers and micro-minis. How can people sew teeny tiny clothes that skimpy? I realize Mattel is marketing to tweens and teens with their Bling Bling Barbie and "my seen" fashions, but what's a mother of a little girl to do? How do you make modesty cool?
- Liz

Busted

Busted

I knew writing this blog would come back to haunt me, but I didn't know how soon. It was about a year ago that I first noticed my daughter's shyness whenever I was talking about her. She was reluctant to hear me retelling the cute things she had done and said. Her face would flush and she'd try to hide.
Before signing on with Misty for the Moms Blog, I had a talk with Faith.I wanted to ask her permission to write about her because I didn't want her one day resenting her somewhat public upbringing. She gave me her approval and was really excited when I told her a photographer was coming to take our picture.
Faith enjoys looking at the paper and having the "funny papers" read to her. A couple of weeks ago on the way out the door, I grabbed the excerpts from our blogs that were printed in the paper and read it to Faith.
"Mommy, why did you want to tell everybody that?" she asked.It was obvious she was embarrassed. I'm back to square one, but at least I have some time until she can read it for herself.
- Liz

The Little Big Book

It's spring, and that means babies. At least, it seems to be that way in my world. So what do you get a mom-to-be or a new adoptive mom? Try "The Little Big Book for Moms" published by Welcome Enterprises. If you can get your hands on this little gem, you'll find a full-color, 350-page resource on fairy tales, nursery rhymes, songs and poetry that will bring back memories from your own childhood. Plus, finger games like "Where is Thumbkin," recipes for things from peanut butter sandwiches to homemade play-doh, how to make a hat or sailboat out of a sheet of newspaper, and so much more. With so many of us living far away from grandma and great grandma, this is the book that will get us through those precious first years and instill in our children's memories the same songs and games we remember playing with our moms in those quiet minutes before bedtime or on rainy days. The book is the right size (about 5 inches square) to hold in your lap so baby can see and touch the illustrations and is hardbound, made to last and last. I plan on passing mine down someday.
--Misty

Comfort zones

I was having a hard time getting Daniel to actually play with the new neighbor children. He'd want to go visit, but when we got to their house, he'd just stand next to me, clinging tightly to my hand. Sunday, they were all out riding bikes, and Daniel wouldn't get on one of theirs. So we walked home, got his bike (which it seems a winter growth spurt has made too small) and went back. Bingo! As soon as Daniel had something of "his own," he was tearing around with the rest of them, having a great time. Who knows, maybe he felt he had to bring something to the party, or maybe he just needed the comfort of something he called "his" before he could take part in the fun. Doesn't mean he had to be playing with it, because once he started playing, all the toys were fair game. He just had to have it there.
--Misty

feeling less than groovy

You already know I'm reading "The Girlfriends' Guide to Getting Your Groove Back," and I'm ready to act of some of Vickyy's advice (it's impossible to think of her as Mrs. Iovine after reading her writing). Then along comes that virus that has been making its way through the city and it lays me flat. I'm pretty sure that, from 6 p.m. Tuesday through 6 a.m. Thursday, I was conscious about four hours. Long enough to take Daniel to daycare, take care of some prepwork so someone else could do my job for the day, and dose and redose with Theraflu. Of course, my husband got it the same day. Why not? Fortunately, young Daniel has the constitution of a horse and has shown no signs of the misery we went through. And bless his little independent spirit, he spent yesterday afternoon and evening playing happily in the greenhouse with the dog. He calls it his rock room, because the floor is gravel. Just means I have to double-check all his pockets before doing laundry!
--Misty

male priorities

So we're watching "Jurrasic Park" the other night, and Daniel fixes, of course, on the cars. Yeah, dinosaurs are cool, but he's a wheels guy. So I shouldn't have been surprised when, as the Tyrannosaurus Rex attacks the jeep with the kids in it, my boy cries out "oh no, the car!" Shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. But then, this is the offspring of the man who refuses to watch the scene in "Double Jeopardy" where Ashley Judd drops Tommy Lee Jones' 1964 Galaxie into the Puget Sound.
--Misty

Getting my groove back

For some time now, my physical fitness has been measured not by what size jeans I wear, but by whether I can keep up with my life. Can I mow the front yard without collapsing? Can I chase the dog and the kid without getting winded? And the big one - can I go all day at an amusement park without needing "a break?" And since the answer has been yes, I haven't worried about the rest of it. But I'm in the middle of a funny, frank book by Vicki Iovine, called "The Girlfriends' Guide to Getting Your Groove Back." Iovine helped me before, with "The Girlfriends' Guide to Pregnancy" and "The Gilrfriends' Guide to Surviving the First Year." She'll tell you like it is, and make you laugh while she's doing it. I mean, "What to Expect While You're Expecting" is OK, but don't you feel like it left some pretty big things out? Ditto with the Guide to the First Year and the Guide to the Toddler Years. Better than "What to Expect," but still pretty basic. But here's what Iovine kicked my butt for this morning:
"Getting some pounds off doesn't do a thing for giving you any more agility than the rusty Tin Woodsman, nore does it provide the weight-bearing exercises that have been proven to ward off osteoporosis or give you enough stamina to hold your own in a three-legged race with your seven-year-old. That's where some kind of fitness program comes in. ... This is a very important part of getting your groove back, Girlfriends: Since there are very few moments in a day carved out for pure enjoyment, we've all decided to pick an activity that tones up our bodies while we're distracted by the fun we're having...." And she goes on, but that's for another posting.
So I'm shopping for an exercise I don't hate, and since I used to love my bellydancing class and still have the tapes, I think I'm going to dust off my bells and check out the classes offered here in Warner Robins. We'll see how it goes.
--Misty

Staying out of trouble

One of my side hobbies is cake decorating. Not so much slap a little icing on a cake with those multicolored sprinkles and call it decorated as the kind of cake decorating you see in "Brides" magazine. So when I get in the kitchen, it's often serious business.
Of course, Daniel wants to help. And being his father's son, he wants to taste and touch and eat some more.
This week, I've been putting my new kitchen to the test by making cake to feed 200 - Daniel's great-great-grandmother turns 90 tomorrow. To help keep little fingers out of trouble, when I baked the first of seven cakes, I set some batter aside and made cupcakes. As I was icing and ddecorating, Daniel got to play with (and eat) those cupcakes. Like all kids, he learned fast to lick the icing off, get his sugar high, and abandon the cupcake for the dog. So it's been a fun week.
--Misty

When Daniel sleeps in

Since we moved into the house, I haven't set the alarm once. Daniel has been quite faithful about getting me up by seven. In fact, I had to get curtains up in his room fast, because he was up with the sun - even on Saturday! Then he threw me. Tuesday, he didn't get up until ten to eight! So much for getting to work by eight... But more important, what did we do different Monday to get him to sleep in?!?!
--Misty

"I like being us"

During our weekly mother and daughter night, my little Faith said
something profound.
"I like being us," she said as we were finishing up supper after her
daddy left to go to his weekly Bible study.
Once again, her simple thought grabbed me in a powerful way. Because I work nights, our time together is precious.The most difficult part of my job is only being able to see her at breakfast and dinner. Just the night before,she told me how much fun it would be if I could sit with her by the bathtub and "just talk." My, how grown up my girl is, I thought. As we cleared off the supper table, I told her it was time for her bath. Although she protested and groaned at first, I told her I wanted to sit with her and talk.
"All right," she exclaimed and scampered off to the tub.
I hope she'll always want to come clean with her mother.
- Liz

a prayer for moms of seniors

I have a couple of coworkers whose daughters or granddaughters are high school Seniors this year, and I'm watching these ladies help their girls pick out prom dresses. It's a careful negotiation, matching mom's taste (and budget) with the kids' ideas of what's fashionable. I remember the negotiations over my own prom: our school system did after-prom lock-ins at the YMCA. The after party was actually cooler than the dance event: they gave away everything from mini-fridges (useful in dorm rooms) to a car (not a new one by any means). Then, of course, breakfast at the IHOP before returning home. Thet's when all my careful negotiations fell apart: while my friends went home and curled up in their beds, I wound up mowing and raking the yard. "Hoot with the owls, scream with the eagles" was dad's reply to my protests. So I worked, but I was really cranky about it. Bless the moms of Middle Georgia as they go through this rite of passage. Last spring break, last high school dance, last awards ceremony, all in preparation for the biggest day of all: graduation. Time flies when you're having fun, stock up on film and camera batteries now.
--Misty

Making rainbows with Daniel

As much as Daniel loves his new house and his new room, he's happiest when both mom and dad are there with him. He keeps track of the dog, and the cat, and when dad gets home from work there's always a little celebration. But when I went out with a friend last night, he was a little sad. So we spent time playing "Daniel games" when we got home: Spin the boy, chase the dog, swing like a hammock, and "catch me!" But the most fun is the bedtime wind-down, drawing with chalk on his easel. He's in a rainbow phase, and while he's proud of the rainbow he drew on the driveway, he wants to fall asleep looking at one mom or dad drew. Sweet dreams, little man.
--Misty

Tip of the day

$19 eyeglasses.com
Without this site, I think I would have blown a gasket the first (and second) time Daniel broke his glasses. Yes, I got the cool titanium, bendable frames. But I also got two spare pairs, from the Internet. Was I skeptical? You bet. Did I take them to the eye doctor with us for fitting and confirming the Rx? You bet. But now that everything has checked out, I'll be buying all our replacements there. The optometrist agreed, after seeing what Daniel did to the "good" frames. Then he offered the kid a job as a tester for future "indestructable" products. Ha!
--Misty

MOPS consignment sale

Coming to the Rumford Center at the Methodist Children's Home: The semi-annual Mothers of Preschoolers consignment sale. March 24-25, of course sellers come by March 21-22 and get to takew part in the pre-sale March 23. This sale has been amazing in the past, but they are always looking to grow. Some hard to find items: older kids' clothes - they'd love to see sellers with sizes 4T to 14. High-quality, very good prices. Sellers contact Christy at 477-6420.
--Misty

Summer camp?

It's time to start thinking about what the kiddies are going to do all summer. What age is best to start summer camp? It depends. Certainly, if your kids have been Vacation Bible Schooling since birth, any time is good to start a short day camp. With Daniel turning 4 this summer, he's headed for swimming lessons, but not a camp. Day camps are good experiences for most children, and is seems around here there's one for every interest. Sports, computers, art, you name it. Overnight camps might be better for older kids, depending on the individual child's level of self-control. If your kid is doing his chores without prompting, cleans up after herself, and generally takes direction well, it's probably time for overnight camp. Your best bet: gather a bunch of brochures from the camps YOU approve and let your child pick the "final" two or three options.
--Misty

Mr. Clingy

As excited about his new house as Daniel is, and as much as he loves his new red bed, the move has left him a little insecure. He winds up in bed with us at some point during the night, and clings to me when I drop him off at day care. Bless his little heart.
To try to ease his concern, I have unpacked his room first. And oh, how happy he was when I broke open that first box of toys! Hopefully, having all his familliar things and keeping to our daily routine will get him back on track in a hurry.
--Misty