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Monday, January 16, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Mean Girls
Did anyone watch Rene Syler on Anderson Cooper the other day? It was a piece about how a new study has found that mothers who work outside of the home are much happier than moms who stay home with their children.
What struck me about it was how venomous all the moms were. Two of the working moms said they thought stay-at-home moms were lazy, lacked discipline, were escaping responsibility and didn't take care of themselves. I had to turn it off after this because I had too many things to do, plus I was hugely frustrated by it (I taped it for when I have more tolerance). So I didn't see how the at-home moms replied but I do know that some more passionate at-home moms think working moms are, in essence, abandoning their children.
Oh the venom! I cannot figure out why people care so much what the other side has chosen. Maybe they're trying to feel better about themselves and their choices? As a stay-at-home mom for now, I have good days where I'm productive, satisfied and happy and other days where I'm less productive, exhausted or bored.
I have lots of friends who work because they have to. I have some friends who work because they believe it makes them a better mother. And I have plenty of friends who stay home and feel the same way I do: There are good days and bad days--which is pretty much how I felt or operated when I had a traditional job.
Ugh. My point is, everybody does what they have to or what they think is right or what's right for them. It would be awesome if there was far less judgement all around.
What struck me about it was how venomous all the moms were. Two of the working moms said they thought stay-at-home moms were lazy, lacked discipline, were escaping responsibility and didn't take care of themselves. I had to turn it off after this because I had too many things to do, plus I was hugely frustrated by it (I taped it for when I have more tolerance). So I didn't see how the at-home moms replied but I do know that some more passionate at-home moms think working moms are, in essence, abandoning their children.
Oh the venom! I cannot figure out why people care so much what the other side has chosen. Maybe they're trying to feel better about themselves and their choices? As a stay-at-home mom for now, I have good days where I'm productive, satisfied and happy and other days where I'm less productive, exhausted or bored.
I have lots of friends who work because they have to. I have some friends who work because they believe it makes them a better mother. And I have plenty of friends who stay home and feel the same way I do: There are good days and bad days--which is pretty much how I felt or operated when I had a traditional job.
Ugh. My point is, everybody does what they have to or what they think is right or what's right for them. It would be awesome if there was far less judgement all around.
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| via Observando.net |
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
What's in a Name?
So now that we know this bun in my large oven is a girl, we can more seriously consider what to name her.
Baby Center just released (or-re-released) a list of the top 100 baby names of 2011. At the top of the boys' list is Aiden, Jackson, Mason and Liam. Ruling the girls' list for now is Sophia, Emma, Isabella and Olivia.
I like all of these. I do. But for some reason, I want something a little different--not too different, though. I mean, Blue IV or Blue Ivy (I could deal with Ivy Blue)? Really?
But hey, names are personal. Not everyone is going to like what you choose and you're not going to fall in love with what your friends might decide to name their children. You just have to pick something you love. And that hopefully your child will love, or grow to love, too.
Here's what we're thinking at the moment:
Esme Lady (Esme is French and means "to love." Lady is Kadin's mom's nickname.)
Loucette Lady (Loucette, a variation of Lucette, is also French and means "little light.")
Zadie Alice (We just like the name Zadie and Alice is a variation of Kadin's mom's name.)
We also like: Willa, Indra, Izola, Isla, Estee, Vida and Zola.
What do you like? Should a name have meaning or just be something you like? Do you prefer something different or more traditional?
Baby Center just released (or-re-released) a list of the top 100 baby names of 2011. At the top of the boys' list is Aiden, Jackson, Mason and Liam. Ruling the girls' list for now is Sophia, Emma, Isabella and Olivia.
I like all of these. I do. But for some reason, I want something a little different--not too different, though. I mean, Blue IV or Blue Ivy (I could deal with Ivy Blue)? Really?
But hey, names are personal. Not everyone is going to like what you choose and you're not going to fall in love with what your friends might decide to name their children. You just have to pick something you love. And that hopefully your child will love, or grow to love, too.
Here's what we're thinking at the moment:
Esme Lady (Esme is French and means "to love." Lady is Kadin's mom's nickname.)
Loucette Lady (Loucette, a variation of Lucette, is also French and means "little light.")
Zadie Alice (We just like the name Zadie and Alice is a variation of Kadin's mom's name.)
We also like: Willa, Indra, Izola, Isla, Estee, Vida and Zola.
What do you like? Should a name have meaning or just be something you like? Do you prefer something different or more traditional?
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| via Observando.net |
Old Navy
I usually only shop for Sabine at Old Navy. But lately, they have some really cute women's stuff. The affordability of these pieces makes them that much more adorable.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
I Need More Time
I'm finding it difficult to sit down and write anything. I have so many other things weighing on me:
I'm considering trying to take on a few freelance stories before this baby comes as I want my own money.
There's a ridiculous amount of laundry that needs to be folded.
I'm thinking of firing our cleaning lady because she recently really pissed me off and I could use the extra money (please don't judge the fact that I've a cleaning lady) which means, well, now I need to clean things.
I'm exhausted. Constantly. It's almost impossible for me to not lay down while Sabine takes a nap instead of doing all of the above.
In other boring and narcissistic news:
It's getting harder and harder to sleep comfortably with this tiny human growing in my belly.
Heartburn sucks. A lot.
How insane is Kim from the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills? Certifiable nutbar. And that new boyfriend of hers seems a lot less than stable, too.
I love Chelsea Handler.
Sabine bit me yesterday. I told you she was a tiny monster.
Tiny monster also suddenly loves baths instead of acting like we are dipping her in hot lava.
We saw the movie Young Adult over the holidays. A sad waste of twenty bucks and almost two hours. In my unprofessional opinion, Diablo Cody is slipping.
I need to write something about seeing my cousins and uncles on Christmas...how I see my mother's face in all of their faces, which is heartbreaking and comforting all at the same time.
I also need to write about how nobody in my immediate family talks to my brother anymore. And he lives only a mile or two from my father. It's so strange how the family can crumble after a mother dies.
And about how Sabine never wants to take a nap or go to sleep at night because she loves playing and cuddling and singing and dancing and being and life so much that she never wants to stop. And sometimes, all I can think about is sleep.
But right now, I need to stop writing and get Sabine from her crib.
Happy Tuesday.
I'm considering trying to take on a few freelance stories before this baby comes as I want my own money.
There's a ridiculous amount of laundry that needs to be folded.
I'm thinking of firing our cleaning lady because she recently really pissed me off and I could use the extra money (please don't judge the fact that I've a cleaning lady) which means, well, now I need to clean things.
I'm exhausted. Constantly. It's almost impossible for me to not lay down while Sabine takes a nap instead of doing all of the above.
In other boring and narcissistic news:
It's getting harder and harder to sleep comfortably with this tiny human growing in my belly.
Heartburn sucks. A lot.
How insane is Kim from the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills? Certifiable nutbar. And that new boyfriend of hers seems a lot less than stable, too.
I love Chelsea Handler.
Sabine bit me yesterday. I told you she was a tiny monster.
Tiny monster also suddenly loves baths instead of acting like we are dipping her in hot lava.
We saw the movie Young Adult over the holidays. A sad waste of twenty bucks and almost two hours. In my unprofessional opinion, Diablo Cody is slipping.
I need to write something about seeing my cousins and uncles on Christmas...how I see my mother's face in all of their faces, which is heartbreaking and comforting all at the same time.
I also need to write about how nobody in my immediate family talks to my brother anymore. And he lives only a mile or two from my father. It's so strange how the family can crumble after a mother dies.
And about how Sabine never wants to take a nap or go to sleep at night because she loves playing and cuddling and singing and dancing and being and life so much that she never wants to stop. And sometimes, all I can think about is sleep.
But right now, I need to stop writing and get Sabine from her crib.
Happy Tuesday.
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| via Observando.net |
Harajuku Mini
Harajuku Mini, Gwen Stefani's line of clothing for infants, toddlers and youths, is available at Target. It's the second batch, which is much cuter than the first I think. Important tip: I found pieces in the store that I didn't see online. The in-store selection is much more varied and adorable.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Back to Normal
I know the holidays were over last week, but ours have only just ended. My in-laws have returned to Connecticut which means that today, Kadin goes back to work and I go back to my daily routine with Sabine.
Our Christmas was close to perfect in the way of spending time with family, eating the most delicious food and gift giving. But it was also completely exhausting. Sabine was excited but overwhelmed by so many gifts. We drove all over southern California and seemingly spent most of Christmas eve cooking and baking. And I feel twenty pounds heavier. Pregnancy plus the holidays equals total loss of self control. I made my mom's famous sugar cookies and ate half of them all by myself. I also ate far too many tamales. I cannot even look at another tamale until next Christmas.
New Year's was much quieter. We spent it in Newport Beach, where it was at least eighty degrees and sickeningly sunny. We sat in the sand, played in the water, built sand castles and shared a picnic lunch. It made me think that this is either our quiet before the storm that will be two small children to care for or it's a sign of good things to come. I don't really believe in signs though. As I've learned, there are good times and bad times. You can't have one without the other. This past New Year's Day, alone at the beach with Sabine and Kadin, was just one of my simply good times. I won't forget it.
Our Christmas was close to perfect in the way of spending time with family, eating the most delicious food and gift giving. But it was also completely exhausting. Sabine was excited but overwhelmed by so many gifts. We drove all over southern California and seemingly spent most of Christmas eve cooking and baking. And I feel twenty pounds heavier. Pregnancy plus the holidays equals total loss of self control. I made my mom's famous sugar cookies and ate half of them all by myself. I also ate far too many tamales. I cannot even look at another tamale until next Christmas.
New Year's was much quieter. We spent it in Newport Beach, where it was at least eighty degrees and sickeningly sunny. We sat in the sand, played in the water, built sand castles and shared a picnic lunch. It made me think that this is either our quiet before the storm that will be two small children to care for or it's a sign of good things to come. I don't really believe in signs though. As I've learned, there are good times and bad times. You can't have one without the other. This past New Year's Day, alone at the beach with Sabine and Kadin, was just one of my simply good times. I won't forget it.
Happy New Year...
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Oops, I Lied.
Sorry...I need a little more time...still swamped and whirling from holidays. Be back soon!
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| via Observando |
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
A Short Vacation
I'm taking a couple of days off. Family in town and still whirling from the holidays. Be back tomorrow (Wednesday).
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| via Observando |
Friday, December 23, 2011
Last Words
Just a few things before the weekend carries us away...
a) I took Sabine to see Santa this evening. She covered her eyes and repeatedly said, "Go home, mama. Go home." She was traumatized. Terrified. She sobbed, shook, couldn't catch her breath and clung to me like a wet kitten. She never sat on his lap, but I thought about how weird it was that he shouted, "I love you," to her as we walked away. There was something creepy about him and it's creepy to tell a kid you don't even know that you love them. How about "Merry Christmas" instead? And there was certainly no way I was going to sit her on creepy santa's lap. Who knows where that lap has been? I don't want to know.
b) Every night before I put Sabine to bed, we turn off the lights then say goodnight to mama, dada, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandpas and grandmas, including my mom, who has died. It kills me on a regular basis that my mom never got to meet Sabine and that Sabine doesn't get to know the best grandma a little girl could ever have. But tonight as we moved down the line of relatives, before I could say their names, Sabine said, "An gama Becky an ganpa Tom." My heart sank. My mom's favorite time of year was Christmas. I think she's Sabine's very own angel.
c) I was thinking last night as I rushed around to complete last minute errands and after I watched Shrek the Halls with Sabine that I haven't really sat with or had one of my long talks with Kadin. I've been too busy buying and wrapping crap, planning meals and getting our home ready for guests. But it's not about the marshmallows on the sweet potatoes or the right ribbon on a package or if I fold the last load of laundry. It's about laughing, talking, thinking and catching up with the ones I love. In ten years, I'm not going to give a rat's ass about the marshmallows. In ten years, I'm going to be looking back at this time that I'm in right now, thinking about how quickly it went by and wishing that I had more of it. So I'm done focusing on the small, meaningless tasks. And now I'm soaking up as much time with my husband, my tiny monster, my pops, my sisters and my sister-like friends.
Happy happiest holidays to everyone...regardless of what day(s) you celebrate or what you believe in...I hope you enjoy your family and/or friends and this chilly, cozy and hopefully merry season.
a) I took Sabine to see Santa this evening. She covered her eyes and repeatedly said, "Go home, mama. Go home." She was traumatized. Terrified. She sobbed, shook, couldn't catch her breath and clung to me like a wet kitten. She never sat on his lap, but I thought about how weird it was that he shouted, "I love you," to her as we walked away. There was something creepy about him and it's creepy to tell a kid you don't even know that you love them. How about "Merry Christmas" instead? And there was certainly no way I was going to sit her on creepy santa's lap. Who knows where that lap has been? I don't want to know.
b) Every night before I put Sabine to bed, we turn off the lights then say goodnight to mama, dada, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandpas and grandmas, including my mom, who has died. It kills me on a regular basis that my mom never got to meet Sabine and that Sabine doesn't get to know the best grandma a little girl could ever have. But tonight as we moved down the line of relatives, before I could say their names, Sabine said, "An gama Becky an ganpa Tom." My heart sank. My mom's favorite time of year was Christmas. I think she's Sabine's very own angel.
c) I was thinking last night as I rushed around to complete last minute errands and after I watched Shrek the Halls with Sabine that I haven't really sat with or had one of my long talks with Kadin. I've been too busy buying and wrapping crap, planning meals and getting our home ready for guests. But it's not about the marshmallows on the sweet potatoes or the right ribbon on a package or if I fold the last load of laundry. It's about laughing, talking, thinking and catching up with the ones I love. In ten years, I'm not going to give a rat's ass about the marshmallows. In ten years, I'm going to be looking back at this time that I'm in right now, thinking about how quickly it went by and wishing that I had more of it. So I'm done focusing on the small, meaningless tasks. And now I'm soaking up as much time with my husband, my tiny monster, my pops, my sisters and my sister-like friends.
Happy happiest holidays to everyone...regardless of what day(s) you celebrate or what you believe in...I hope you enjoy your family and/or friends and this chilly, cozy and hopefully merry season.
 |
| via Observando |
Thursday, December 22, 2011
The Sex
Just found out: It's a girl. I'm having a girl.
A) Apparently I have zero intuition because I was sure it was a boy.
B) Before we found out, Kadin said he didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. But when I told him it's definitely a baby girl, you woulda thought he'd won the lottery. So sweet.
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| via Observando |
The Christmas Gift That Couldn't Wait
I don't know what it is about umbrellas but Sabine is obsessed with them. So I let her open one of her Christmas gifts way before Christmas. I've never seen her more happy. She uses it every day whether it's raining or not.
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| Image by Jenna Park via Momfilter |
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Mean Sabine
She is killing me these days. It takes us an hour and a half to get out the door each morning because she throws a tantrum when I brush her teeth--which has resulted in Kadin holding her down while I try to attack her chompers without her biting me. She throws a second tantrum when I try to do her hair (please let the next one be a boy so I don't have to do two heads of hair each day). When it's time to get dressed, anything I pull out of her drawer, she refuses to wear. She dives head first into her dirty laundry basket and insists on wearing some dirty dress she wore the day before. Another tantrum ensues when I tell her no.
Once I've gotten her dressed, she usually decides to poop. In her diaper even though she's capable of using the toilet. Somehow she escapes and runs away from me each morning as I'm changing her and shit ends up all over some piece of furniture or bed sheets or her clothes.
So I change her carefully negotiated outfit. And then I change it again when she's dumped a cup of yogurt on herself or has insisted on washing her hands by herself which somehow means washing her fully clothed torso in the bathroom sink.
Now, for those of you who are thinking that I should wait to get her dressed until after she eats or takes a dump, I challenge you to pluck her from her crib in the morning, when her the first words out of her mouth are not, "good morning or I love you, mama," but "shirt off!" (Insert another tantrum here if I leave her pajamas on.)
She hates wearing a jacket even though it's freezing outside and she insists on taking anywhere from three to five stuffed animals, a purse and a tea set with her every time we leave the house.
And bath time in the evening? That's a tantrum times seventeen--with every window in the house closed so the neighbors don't mistakenly call CPS. You'd think we were dipping her in hot lava instead of a warm tub filled with bubbles and toys.
Her will and her attitude are wearing me down to the point that I cannot believe I am growing another tiny monster who will perhaps torture me all over again. I actually lay in bed last night not wanting to fall asleep because I knew I was going to have to wake up and be tortured all over again. When she's good, she's delicious. When she's like this, she's completely evil. Dad, if you're reading this, I know what you're thinking: payback or that the Sabine apple does not fall far from the Laura tree. But I wasn't this bad, was I? If so, I'm really, really sorry.
I used to watch Super Nanny and think that the parents who needed her help were ridiculous for needing her help. Now, I think the super nanny obviously does not live with toddlers day in and day out. She's a nanny, not a mom--two very different things. She gets to go home and have a glass of wine amidst dead silence after bossing those families around. She doesn't have to live with this crap on a daily basis. Putting your kid in timeout on a bean bag or a carpet scrap in the living room so they can laugh at you as they get up over and over again, while you spend hours retrieving them and putting them back is my definition of Guantanamo Bay-style torture. I suddenly want to kick super nanny off of her British know-it-all soapbox.
My sister asked me once about whether or not I'm afraid that Sabine will read this blog one day and feel hurt by some of what I say. I thought about deleting certain posts as time goes on, but I also think it's important to be honest. The truth is is that nothing is perfect or perfectly enchanting all the time. I want my readers who don't have children to know this in case they do some day. I want my readers who do have children to not feel bad or guilty or crazy when they feel like locking themselves in a padded room. I want Sabine to know this in case she has children some day, when I will also tell her that all the tantrums paled in comparison to how happy she made me.
If I pretended that motherhood is this romantic, dreamy experience all the time, then I'd have to be locked up or get all Sylvia Plath from the barrel of lies I'd be feeding myself and the world around me.
Once I've gotten her dressed, she usually decides to poop. In her diaper even though she's capable of using the toilet. Somehow she escapes and runs away from me each morning as I'm changing her and shit ends up all over some piece of furniture or bed sheets or her clothes.
So I change her carefully negotiated outfit. And then I change it again when she's dumped a cup of yogurt on herself or has insisted on washing her hands by herself which somehow means washing her fully clothed torso in the bathroom sink.
Now, for those of you who are thinking that I should wait to get her dressed until after she eats or takes a dump, I challenge you to pluck her from her crib in the morning, when her the first words out of her mouth are not, "good morning or I love you, mama," but "shirt off!" (Insert another tantrum here if I leave her pajamas on.)
She hates wearing a jacket even though it's freezing outside and she insists on taking anywhere from three to five stuffed animals, a purse and a tea set with her every time we leave the house.
And bath time in the evening? That's a tantrum times seventeen--with every window in the house closed so the neighbors don't mistakenly call CPS. You'd think we were dipping her in hot lava instead of a warm tub filled with bubbles and toys.
Her will and her attitude are wearing me down to the point that I cannot believe I am growing another tiny monster who will perhaps torture me all over again. I actually lay in bed last night not wanting to fall asleep because I knew I was going to have to wake up and be tortured all over again. When she's good, she's delicious. When she's like this, she's completely evil. Dad, if you're reading this, I know what you're thinking: payback or that the Sabine apple does not fall far from the Laura tree. But I wasn't this bad, was I? If so, I'm really, really sorry.
I used to watch Super Nanny and think that the parents who needed her help were ridiculous for needing her help. Now, I think the super nanny obviously does not live with toddlers day in and day out. She's a nanny, not a mom--two very different things. She gets to go home and have a glass of wine amidst dead silence after bossing those families around. She doesn't have to live with this crap on a daily basis. Putting your kid in timeout on a bean bag or a carpet scrap in the living room so they can laugh at you as they get up over and over again, while you spend hours retrieving them and putting them back is my definition of Guantanamo Bay-style torture. I suddenly want to kick super nanny off of her British know-it-all soapbox.
My sister asked me once about whether or not I'm afraid that Sabine will read this blog one day and feel hurt by some of what I say. I thought about deleting certain posts as time goes on, but I also think it's important to be honest. The truth is is that nothing is perfect or perfectly enchanting all the time. I want my readers who don't have children to know this in case they do some day. I want my readers who do have children to not feel bad or guilty or crazy when they feel like locking themselves in a padded room. I want Sabine to know this in case she has children some day, when I will also tell her that all the tantrums paled in comparison to how happy she made me.
If I pretended that motherhood is this romantic, dreamy experience all the time, then I'd have to be locked up or get all Sylvia Plath from the barrel of lies I'd be feeding myself and the world around me.
 |
| via Observando |
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