The Deck of Cards 06/21/2010

Life is a deck of cards.  You never know which cards you will be dealt or how you will play them.  Regardless of how many times you attempt to reshuffle them, the cards, good and bad, are yours.

In the  hand of cards life had dealt me was the Joker.   The card called Infertility.  A word evoking many raw emotions that I never knew I possessed.   A word, which  threatened my dreams and made me vulnerable to a broken heart and a broken spirit before our journey ended.  

Our journey to parenthood began with hope and excitement that diminished rapidly with each and every negative pregnancy test and with the realization that our journey was not a simple coupling of egg meets sperm, but would much, much more. It would indeed become an odyssey crammed with victories and defeats, sirens, villains, and heroes.

And the biggest question in my life would be answered.  A question in the beginning of our adventure I would be unable to answer for the longest time. Questions that involved more than a simple yes or no and an answer nobody could give me. There would be a realization of a loss that would need to mourned, grieved, processed, and accepted.  A loss that would be monumental to nobody, but me. 

I have been asked how I write something so terribly difficult to put into words and remain whole and unbroken.  I’ve often wondered where these words come from.

Are these words in my heart or do they linger in the air hung over the silence between each moment just as the snow swirls in the air over the mountain ranges?  Are they the words I yearned to speak but at times, fear, anger, disappointment rendered me speechless? Or, are they the words spun in dreams that chased the shadows and the demons and carried the hope that lingered in my heart like a candle’s flicker.  Or, like a smoldering candle’s flame, did the words singe my heart and blister my spirit all those months of waiting only to return as a phoenix from the ashes?  Would I be a stronger woman?  Would I find strength to continue when all roads lead to failure?

 The words that fill these pages are words filled with loathing and anger and triumphant and hope. Words spoken to no one until now.  To say this is my story is unfair.  We both lived it.  We both experienced it. And, yet in the end, it was I, who found her voice.

The Strongest 06/21/2010

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest of souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” 

Kahlil Gibran

So, There’s This Boy… 05/24/2010

I remember the day I discovered I was pregnant. After months and months of hoping and praying, the test strip finally showed the most beautiful shade of positive.

However, I had no idea what was in store for me. Oh, I read all the books. I listened to all the advice; including my grandmother’s advice to boil my breast milk, and took such advice with a grain of salt. But, there are things you learn after you’ve been thrown into the perils and joys of motherhood. Each day of motherhood brings new challenges, hopes and the realization that my job isn’t simply to teach, but to learn.

 I wish I had known to buy stock in infant Mylicon. This little bottle of medicine prescribed by Zane’s pediatrician became my best friend. Just like pacifiers, I carried bottles in the diaper bag and I had bottles stashed in the nursery and in the family room. It was the one remedy worked on Zane’s sour stomach almost instantly. I still remember the dosage.

 I wish somebody had told me not to berate myself for allowing my colicky baby to sleep on top of my stomach and in my arms. After walking the floors with my cranky and sleepy infant for three days straight and finally lying down on my bed with my infant on top of my stomach only to slip into the best night’s sleep for both of us in seventy-two hours, I tried it the next time.

 I wish I had known early on to give up on fighting stains. No amount of stain treatment removes spit-up or Gerber carrot stains. Some stains just don’t come out regardless of how many stain sticks you use. I could have saved a ton of money and a lot of time, had I just gone ahead and discarded the ruined outfit.

 For those clothes and time, well, I wish I had understood that overnight clothes get smaller and in a matter of days, feet grow and shoes barely worn are too small. I wish I had realized that feet grow so quickly. I could have spared my little boy some discomfort.

I wish I had known that I would fall in love with my husband all over again. Not because our life was consumed with blissful romance but because of the way my husband swaddled our son so carefully, or the way he warmed the baby blankets and sleepers in the dryer during our son’s bath so they would be warm and toasty.

 I wish I had known then that my son would give up his pacifiers on his own time and not worry because he slept with one in his mouth and one in each hand that he rotated as he drifted into the land of milk and honey until he was three. He gave them up all on his own without any coaxing and cajoling from anyone. He simply climbed into his bunk beds one day at naptime and gave them to me. To this day, I still stumble across one, here and there. Pacifiers bring a wistful smile to my face for I realize he was still just a baby when he gave them up and I thought he was so big.

And, those stretch marks that I spent every night of my pregnancy massaging cream onto in hopes of preventing are now a badge of honor. They are a souvenir of a time when I could sleep past seven in the morning, eat before I fed someone else, or put my own needs before someone else’s.  But, they are also a reminder of a time when my life wasn’t complete and full.

I learned that stretch marks bring a friend with them. Her name is guilt. Guilt because I raised my voice before I took time to count to ten. Guilt because I fed my son cookies for breakfast one morning after listening to him for three hours scream and beg for them. Guilt because I spent time cleaning the house or working instead of playing with my little boy. Guilt is the arch-nemesis of motherhood.

I didn’t understand the smiles of the women I encountered, or even the smiles of my mother, my grandmothers and my aunts when I was pregnant like I do now. But, I learned I belonged to a secret and wonderful sorority. It’s a sorority filled with smiles of women who have walked in your shoes. The smile of a woman who knows why you have spit up on your shirt. A smile of a woman who understands the confused look on your face. The smile of the woman who at one time, forgot to apply her deodorant, too. The smiles are acknowledgement that pregnancy marks the launch of  a wonderful journey and adventure.

However, the greatest lesson of all was learning that my husband would accept another boy stealing my heart. That boy would call me, “Mommy.”

And, so each night, with a kiss goodnight and a warm, snuggly little body curled up next to mine, I whisper, “I love you to the moon and on.”  My little man whispers under a haze of peaceful slumber smelling faintly of milk and little boy goodness, “I love you to the moon and on and on.”

Beach Trips: The Local’s Way 05/24/2010

 If you close your eyes, you can almost smell it and hear it. The rich, intoxicating aroma of suntan lotion and salt mingling in the air with the tang of idling cars waiting somewhat patiently on scorching hot pavement while the rich fragrance of  our local baja-mex restuarant, Tower 7′s,  Baja Fish Tacos suspends delicately in the air like a spider’s intricate web. Muted music and conversations linger, leaving a faint caress of tranquility on the skin while the blistering and blinding sun shines down and wages war with anything unprotected. All of these are ingredients for the making of a good ole summertime. Complete with heat indexes that soar past the 100 mark and droves of tourists gawking at the many delights of our community, spending the summer in Wilmington as a local is like being on vacation all season long.            

 Last year, my son and I lived in our swimsuits. Just as our morning routine included brushing our teeth and washing our faces, so did applying thick layers of sun block to our skin and diving into our swimsuits before heading to the beach for the day and scouring for a parking space. Our beach chairs, beach umbrella and necessary beach paraphernalia, as well as my son’s entire collection of beach toys, lived in my minivan through the summer. Though I was unorganized the first couple of trips to the beach with my then three year old, after a week or so we were both old pros.  

 After the first couple of trips to the beach and standing in line at the parking machine not wanting to take my dollar bills, I decided to invest in a ParkByPhone Parking Pass. This pass made my life so much simpler. After finding a parking space, I sat in my car, called in my location and paid for a couple of hours. 

For starters, I knew I needed enough toys and activities to keep a short attention span owning three-year-old entertained for roughly four or five hours at the beach. But, I didn’t want to have to lug them from the parking lot to the beach every time. My rule simply became: “If you want it, you carry it.” This was a great way to keep my little one’s  hands busy and ward off the “I’m tired of walking so carry me” monologue that every mom has heard at some point. I had five hours to fill with activities that would inspire my son into wanting to stay at the beach and play. Some days we met friends at the beach, but for the days were we were solo I needed a bag of tricks up my sleeve that went beyond building sandcastles and hunting for seashells. So, in my bag, along with the other necessary beach items, went a plastic magnifying glass, a net and a pair of plastic tweezers. During each trip, we would scavenge the beach for critters and shells. 

We turned a walk along the beach into a search for the biggest seashell or sea glass. With our collection of seashells and sea glass, we took turns sorting them by size and by color. We used some basic math skills to line them up from smallest to largest. We counted the shells and we even used the shells to make letters and shapes. 

My son loved using the tweezers to pick up the various critters we found, mostly little sand crabs, and exploring them. He would place the crab in a plastic bucket and, using his magnifying glass, he would spend a long time examining the critter. Occasionally we used the net to catch the crabs in and sometimes, if we were lucky to find a tidal pool, we could catch little fish. During one of our excursions, we found a crab that had met his untimely end thanks to an overzealous seagull. Using his magnifying glass and tweezers, my son and I spent a lot of time discussing what we thought happened to the crab. It was a great way to lead into an open-ended discussion and explore higher order thinking questions. 

 Our departure from the beach was simple thanks to some preplanning on my part. After lugging everything off the beach and back to the car, I brushed the sand off  my son and myself with some baby powder. Baby powder is necessary for every bag; it removes sand quickly and effortlessly from hands and faces. Though, some parking lots have showers for quick rinse-offs, I have found that the showers are packed with waiting beach-goers, or the water blasts out of the faucet causing preschooler meltdowns in the parking lot. Because of this, I began toting along a camp shower. I fill the shower prior to leaving the house in the morning and leave it in my car. Holding five gallons of water, it was a great way to rinse off squirmy bodies and other sandy items!

As preschool ends and summer begins, we are ready to spend the day at the beach with coolers full of water and snacks and the beach cart filled to the brim with items to ensure fun in the sun!

Gut-Wrenching Heartache 05/24/2010

It’s there. Marked on the calendar. The day I’ve dreaded for the past five and half years. The day my little boy goes to kindergarten.

My heart aches with the thought that some other lady will have him all to herself for six hours a day. My heart stays in my throat these days. And, my eyes fill with tears at the mere thought that he won’t be with me.

Where did the time go? How did it fly by so quickly? Why did time vanish before my eyes?

I question whether or not I have been the very best mommy to him. I wonder if I have prepared him for this new journey we are both about to take. Have I done everything I can to show him how much I love him? How will my life change with him journeying to kindergarten? Will he ever be mine completely again?

The Day My Husband Gave Birth 05/17/2010

My husband of more than ten years has always been a surfer. From the first days of wedded bliss, my husband would leave our bed in the hours before the sun rose, slip into the laundry room and change into his wetsuit. After loading up the car with his boards, he would leave the house for the beach in search of the morning glass. After the morning session, he would make his way home bringing with him the scent of the morning tide, salt water, surf wax and a cup of hot coffee for me. It was our little routine.

When I had our son, my husband’s first goal was to have a surfboard made for him. He hung the longboard ( 7 feet) in our son’s nursery alongside the baby monitor. Everyone loved it.

At first, our little one hated the beach. He couldn’t stand the sand on his hands and wouldn’t go near the water. It broke my husband’s heart. Trips to the beach were few and far between despite the fact that the beach was a mere ten minutes from our home.

Then somewhere around the age of three and right at the end of the summer season, our little one began to embrace the beach and the sand and would occasionally go to the very edge of the water and rinse his hands. Wanting to keep the momentum going, we visited the beach throughout the winter (on the warm days) and played in the sand and chased sea gulls.

The following summer, our son began to actually wade into the water up to his ankles and fill his buckets with water. Occasionally, we could get him to walk in the water as we made our treks down the beach in search of sea glass or treasures from the ocean’s floor like the washed up star fish and sand dollars we would find at low tide.

We never pushed going surfing. We never demanded he go into the ocean water. We continued our swim lessons and playing in the pool as much as possible. We would take our son’s boogie board and foam surfboard to the beach and ask if he wanted to play on them. The answer was always, “No.”

This weekend it changed. Leave it to two wahines, a.k.a. girls,  to encourage our little man to take his boogie board and play in the white water washing up on the beach!  After listening to him laugh as he experienced again and again the feeling of the water rushing up under his boogie board, I approached him cautiously and asked him if he wanted his daddy to push him in on the waves. Hesitant at first, my son watched as the little wahines inched further and further into the water and before I knew it, my son was dragging his daddy into the water to push him in.

After four hours in the water riding in on the waves, our son was exhausted and my husband was grinning ear-to-ear. We assessed our little one’s boogie board and the Velcro wrist strap and after my husband looked at it, he deemed it beyond repair. (The Velcro kept slipping on our son’s wrist and coming loose while riding on the waves.) We took off to the local surf shop and purchased a new boogie board. My husband didn’t even blink an eye at the price tag and I could see the wheels turning in his head as he anticipated the next purchase-a new surfboard-for our son.

I watched as my husband’s surfing buddies patted him on the back and shook his hand and smiled at him. One kept saying, “It’s a good day, man. It’s a good day.”  Other friends called and replied to Facebook posts congratulating my husband. It was odd. It was as if my husband had given birth. I expected him to hand out cigars or better yet, surf wax. But, then I realized, he did give birth. Sorta.

He had given birth to a little surfer. My husband had a new surfing buddy to check out the morning glass with in search of finding the perfect wave. For my husband, the morning glass was better than ever!

Mommy’s Secret Guilty Pleasure 05/11/2010

Last summer a friend gave me the Twilight book. I started reading it while my child played in the sprinkler, pool and water-table  half-heartedly. Withing several pages, I was hooked. Reading the book became my guilty pleasure. I ran out to Target and purchased some new pool toys and water toys and brought them home, set them up, brought a cooler out on the deck filled with water, Gatorade, and snacks. I sat in the lounge-chair and watched my child in between turning pages on Edward Cullen’s and Bella Swann’s love story.  I finished the novel in a day and half, opting to read rather than sleep and opting to order dinner out than actually cook.

After finishing the complete saga and waiting in anticipation for each new movie to be released, another mommy friend told me about another vampire series on the  CW. The Vampire Diaries is now my new secret guilty pleasure. Thursday nights, hubby is on bath and bedtime patrol, while I curl up with a bowl of popcorn, a blanket and a glass of wine and watch Stefan and Damon and Elena’s love triangle weave itself around the town of Mystic Falls.

After indulging myself, I am ready to conquer my world by cleaning and scrubbing the bathroom on Friday morning!

Green Baby 05/04/2010

I have to admit.  We aren’t exactly a “green family.”  My friend last year gave me Green for Dummies. Funny, huh? I honestly saw “going green” as more work for me. I realized the importance of being “green” for our Earth and environment,  but the idea of adding something else to my already filled plate, was enough to give me indigestion. And, then I started my research. I realized there were many practical and economical ways for moms everywhere to go green!  It turned out we were greener than I thought!

What mom doesn’t say, “Turn off the lights!” or “Don’t forget to turn off the television!” to her child at least a dozen times a day? I am forever reminding our five-year-old to conserve energy and turn off the lights and the water in the bathroom after washing his hands. And, after every reminder, I am asked, “Why?” After beginning this article, I stopped telling him, “Because I said so” and started telling him we needed to help keep the Earth healthy.  Knowing I had teased his insatiable appetite for knowledge, I launched my first phase. 

We bought three green containers and labeled them for recycling bins. Our son had a great time decorating the labels and an even better time watching and waiting to put items in the bins. We began talking about the “Three R’s-Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.”  As we went through toys and clothes he had outgrown, we talked about how we would recycle these items to some younger friends so they could reuse them. We also took a trip to the local recycling center to learn about what items we could and couldn’t recycle. 

Next, we cut down on our son’s baths to help conserve water; unless, the little boy aroma of “wet dog” was too much to endure during cuddle time!  Our little water boy, loves to have lots of water in the tub so that he can “swim like a shark” and was disappointed he couldn’t “swim” every night.  After switching to every other night, we realized that not only were we helping the environment, but also our son’s skin.  I replaced his shampoos, soaps, and lotions with organic ones and his skin has felt softer every day.

Before I revealed my next phase, I called my son’s pediatrician. Knowing our son’s pediatrician  had always kept our son’s best interest in mind, I wanted his take on an “organic” menu. His doctor suggested I start with organic milk. “For a little bit more, you can give him milk that has fewer hormones, pesticides, and antibiotics.” As organic lifestyles are embraced by more and more families, his pediatrician suggested to me, “If you can afford it, go for it.  There are benefits; studies are being completed suggesting that an organic lifestyle has rewards.” 

Thanks to his pediatrician, I set off to purchase a few organic items from the grocery store and cook a few “organic meals” with peace of mind. Like most families, we are very budget-conscience. I knew “going organic” could raise my weekly grocery bill.  By how much I wasn’t sure. However, the real question would be, “Would our picky son eat anything I brought home?” Without telling him, I sneaked organic fruits, milk and a few snacks into the house. He never noticed. Our son drank the organic milk and ate the apples without even blinking an eye. And, the few extra dollars I spent on a more healthy diet, we didn’t miss.

My shopping trip included purchasing eco-friendly cleaning products. Purchasing and using for the first time, green cleaning products, I actually didn’t mind my son being underfoot while I cleaned. There were no harsh fumes or toxic smells. I didn’t feel the need to open a window for ventilation. It was a healthy change and one I liked. The bathroom still sparkled and the products did a great job.

In the end, I faced the dragon. I fought the battle with my self and “yes,” added one more thing to my already filled plate.  Is going green feasible? Small changes always tend to be so. But, I realized it wasn’t a question of whether or not I could handle it. It was a question of what I was willing to do for my child. And, just like in any other situation, I would move Heaven and Earth to make his world better. Why wouldn’t I want to start with our home? Why wouldn’t I want to model to our son lifestyle choices that would not only keep him healthy, but our environment as well?

Though the deck may appear to be stacked against those of us wanting to create healthier environments for our loved ones, with a little effort on our part we can raise green kids and it all starts with decisions we make in our home.

Emerging Literacy Skills 05/04/2010

Emergent literacy skills are the building blocks of a child learning to read and write. Here’s a list of tried and true activities to used by myself when I taught Kindergarten and  at home with my child in developing and encouraging literacy skills:  

 Concepts of Print: When reading to your child at home, ask your child to point out the title of the book, the author’s name, the front of the book and the back of the book. Have them also point to upper and lower-case letters. Encourage them to find where you begin reading the selected text and locate the different types of punctuation marks.

Tracking Print: As you read to your child, demonstrate how to track print with your finger. Model to your child how to track print by using your finger or theirs. You can also use a sharpened pencil dipped in glitter as a tracker.

Go For a Walk: Before reading a picture book with your child, take a walk through the book. Let your child make predictions about the story based on the pictures in the book. Encourage them to think of a question they want answered as they read the book. Ask them to find upper and lower-case letters by name and sound.

I Spy With My Little Eye: This is my son’s favorite game to play! His favorite place to play this game is in the grocery store. The concept is simple and the skill we are developing is essential to learning to read. I’ll say, “I spy with my little eye a…” and then I’ll give him a letter to find on the aisle we are shopping on. Sometimes I switch it up and tell him, “I spy with my little eye a letter that makes the…” and I’ll fill in the phonological sound. I sometimes challenge him to think of a word that starts with the same onset (beginning sound) or if he recognizes another sound in the word. Remember vowels have both a long sound and a short sound and when two vowels are paired together the first vowel makes the sound.

 

Practice Makes Perfect:  Practice does make perfect. Provide various media like shaving cream, pudding or sidewalk chalk for your child to practice writing his or her name.  As your child learns to write his or her name, encourage them to think of other words that begin the same onset (beginning sound) or rime (ending sound) as their name.

 Variety Is The Spice: Encourage your child to select different genres when choosing books at the library or the bookstore. Literature doesn’t consist of only picture books. Children should be exposed to a variety of genres including poetry, fiction, nonfiction and drama. Age-appropriate comic books and chapter books can be found and implemented. (We are huge fans of Magic Tree House chapter books!) Children should be read to and have an opportunity to read aloud themselves. Nothing is cuter than children reading to their pet or stuffed animal!

Research: Before purchasing programs or toys that promise to help teach your child to read, remember to look at them and study them. There are many wonderful products available for enriching your child’s learning and growth, but there are some programs and toys that may hinder your child’s progress and prevent them from reaching their zone of proximal development (ZPD). A ZPD is a zone where your child can master the skills presented to them while being challenged to the next level without being frustrated.

 

Don’t Drill…Drill Sergeant: We all want our children to succeed and be their best. But, as a parent, grandparent or babysitter, it is crucial to remember that children don’t have an attention span greater than their age. Be cognizant of this as you sit down with these various activities. Also, watch for clues from your child. Everybody has an off day. Don’t force-feed sounds and letters down your child’s throat. They will only balk and shut down!

 Happy Reading!

Guilt 05/01/2010

Guilt.

Along with those fabulous stretch marks and my post-baby body, came an uninvited guest who has yet to leave. Her name is guilt.  And, she’s a bitch.

Nobody mentioned this to me when I was preggie. Seems to be some evil little secret that moms everywhere around the world who actually care and love their children unconditionally, kept tucked away with the items in the back of the “I’m never putting that on again” drawer.

Why the guilt?

Because I love my child to the ends of the world and back and I feel so much guilt if I am not engaging him every minute. I want to be there every minute of his life-giving to him as much as he gives to me.

But, how do I balance my job as editor and writer for a magazine,  my husband, my child, the house, and my desire to finally finish my manuscript without someone feeling neglected and without me feeling guilty?