A(mommy)nous

Sharing Adventures in Parenting Since 2012

[amommynous]

Mother’s Day in the Life

Being a mom requires you to take the good with the bad and the ugly with the great. Today, I was greeted by a loving husband who let me sleep in and happy squeals of girls who couldn't wait to give me their Mother's Day gifts.

Our nap-deprived one-year-old took turns laughing and crying as we meandered around the zoo. At lunch, I took a bite of the sandwich she wouldn't eat and only after taking said bite, realized her runny nose had run onto it. It was hot, so we let the five-year-old jump in the fountain with all her clothes on, and then triaged a dramatic meltdown for the next hour when she was suddenly convinced that the chlorine in the fountain water would ruin her skirt. We walked back toward the parking lot with a toddler who refused to ride in her stroller and a sobbing five-year-old who sunk into the vacated stroller after insisting she couldn't walk a step more and only calmed down after her father gave her a chemistry lesson (not all chemicals are bad; even water is a chemical.)

We had root beer floats on our porch before dinner.

My husband asked our youngest, "What does Mama say?" And she replied, "Love you!"

As we tucked our oldest into bed, she asked me, "Mama, was this your best day ever of your whole life?" And I said, "Yes, you bet it was." Because this is motherhood, and this is real life, and I am so grateful for this season.

[amommynous]

To My 6-Month-Old Daughter

Rosalie, You are 6 months old! Here is what I know about you. You are the smiliest baby I have ever met, and you kick both legs up and down at the same time and flash me a big smile when you're in your SleepSack at night and I come in to feed you. You have two teeth and your smile is wide with twinkling eyes, and has a way of making everyone around you feel special. You are persistent, and will try to grab an object or roll over or master a toy again and again until you get it. You are patient, and will wait for us to tend to your needs, but will let us know on the rare occasion that something really needs fixing right this very minute. You are cuddly, and press your head into my shoulder for a hug when I get home from work. You like to be held, especially by people you know well. You like to know what's going on, and will crane your neck when you're in the baby carrier facing me in order to see what I'm up to. You adore your sister Maddie, and laugh crazy giggles with her when she makes funny faces at you or sings songs or dances for you. I'm so lucky to be your mama, sweetheart. Much love today and always.

[amommynous]

The Sofa

Today, a sofa arrived at my house.

It has a curved back, high arm rests, and a fabric that is completely unreasonable for a house with a four-year-old, a baby, and two shedding dogs prone to furniture-lounging marathons. It’s white with flowers and butterflies and stuffed with down feathers, with embroidery around each line in the pattern. An absolute lady in a sea of baby rattles, play mats, and a toy kitchen that has never quite found its way to the playroom. And I adore it.

The sofa had belonged to my grandmother before her passing. My grandparents had been antiques dealers in Illinois for many years before making their way down to Florida’s golf courses. While I remember them best among palm trees, there are memories, too, of magical Christmas mornings with our extended family at their home on the rocky shore of Lake Michigan. Of my grandfather, Papa we called him, chasing my older cousins around the house in an ocean of red and green wrapping paper, wearing red pants with a bold red silk stripe down the side. Of learning how to needlepoint in a house that featured so many of my grandmother’s needlepointings, from purses and belts to wall hangings and detailed rugs. And of the time our family basset hound, Chester, made the trip and spent most of his vacation taking a dry sauna underneath a draped side table which also housed a heat vent. In all of these memories and many more, the sofa was close by. 

After my grandmother, Nana, died, an odd thing happened. Behind the sofa had been a mirror that was nearly the height of the ceiling, propped solidly up against the wall. A few days after Nana passed away, my mother had returned to her apartment to find the mirror had, with no regard for the laws of physics, toppled over the back of the sofa and lay face-down and cracked, its top touching the carpet. We had decided it was Nana coming back one more time to check on her belongings, many of which were antiques she had liked too much to sell as part of their business. Though I can’t explain occurrences like these, I can’t dismiss them, either.

The sofa made its way here today after many months of sitting unsold in a vintage store, keeping company with an assortment of Staffordshire dogs and antique occasional tables. Knowing it was coming this afternoon, I felt an urge to clean house. I cleared off surfaces and arranged toys as neatly as possible. Though I appreciate things most for their utility, today I was excited that something extraordinary was coming to fill our 1990s suburban home. It was as if Nana were arriving any minute, often a conversation piece herself with her lively, entertaining, and frequently running commentary. When the moving guys – my dad, uncle, and understanding husband – carried the sofa into the sunny living room, I marveled at the improbability of its journey from Illinois to Florida to Minnesota and, finally, to my house. My 4-year-old daughter and I vacuumed dust from under the cushion, and agreed we would have to get the upholstery cleaned soon – a few coffee stains accompany the flowers and butterflies near the middle of the cushion, and a pen mark is visible on the left arm rest. But after we replaced the cushion, we sat down, and took a breath. I moved my younger daughter up from her play mat on the cushion, too, and we lay there, sprawled comfortably out in a way that Nana probably would have found too casual. And I took a breath. I thought of her. I looked at my smiling daughters. And I gave thanks for having this bit of family history, and for the promise of happy family memories that are yet to come.

[amommynous]

Easiest Birthday Party Ever

It's been a while and I have absolutely no excuses for you. I just have a husband and a house and two dogs and a new job that I ADORE (after 5-plus months on the unemployment docket). Oh. And a two-year-old. 

In the whirlwind of our existence, Madeleine's 2nd birthday arrived much too quickly. A house move had been the plan for 2013, but my jobless state left us in real estate limbo, so we're still basking in the luxuries of one bathroom approximately the size of a jet liner restroom. Not the ideal party locale.

For a while, I was trying to figure out where everything and everyone would fit. But it was like a mental Rubix cube, and I clearly wasn't winning. A backyard celebration would be roomier, but risky given Minnesota's temperamental weather patterns. So I thought, why not have the party at The Little Gym, where Maddie goes for class every week? It's inside, it's huge, and Maddie loves it there.

Best decision ever. Here's what happened.

About two weeks before, The Little Gym printed up customized invitations for us and I mailed them out. A week before, I ordered a pair of ladybug wings online for Maddie's ladybug girl costume. Three days before, I went to the bakery to order her cake, and came back two days later to pick it up. The day of the party, I picked up bubbles and paper crowns for party favors, and brought them with the cake. Done and done.

The rest of the party, from the games to the balloons, table settings and decor, was completely taken care of by two of the gym's teachers, leaving my husband and me to snap a few pictures and enjoy the party with Maddie and our guests. Heck, they even wrote down who gave Maddie which birthday presents. 

As a parent, I often find it difficult to live in the moment because everything revolves around nap schedules, household tasks and to-do lists. We work so hard to create safe, fun and carefree environments for our kids, but seldom do we get to live in them, too. We're always living in the future, anticipating what needs to be done next, and in what order.

But that day, I was right there in the moment, jumping on the bouncy air mat with the kids, watching my daughter take careful, exhilarating steps on the balance beam, and taking in the whole scene. It was simple, it was fun, and it was beautiful. The proof is in the pictures.

Checking out the beam.

Living in the moment.

Maddie and her friends jumping on the air mat.

In her wings and "wiggle skirt," a hand-me-down from my cousin's family.

The teachers were fantastic and led each game and activity.

The cake, featuring Maddie and our two basset hounds.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Maddie! The adventure continues.

[amommynous]

Hugs

Tonight, I hugged my one-year-old daughter and she whispered, "Again." So we hugged again. Some moments in time last forever.

[amommynous]

Why We Love the Zoo

"Madeleine..."

"Do you want to go to the zoo?"

Never fails. And yes, we did actually take her to the zoo directly after these photos were taken. Sometimes I think I like it even more than she does, if that is even possible. Those sea otters are the cutest things on the planet. Well, except for basset hounds.

[amommynous]

Meltdown at Macy's

I knew it was coming, and I dreaded it. Somehow, somewhere, I knew that one fateful day Maddie would decide she'd had enough of whatever we were out doing and I'd be on the receiving end of a full-blown meltdown. And on Sunday, in divine timing, it happened. 

My husband Patrick, Maddie and I went to Macy's for the very last day of their annual Flower Show. It's a huge hit with families because the gardens are beautiful and provide a colorful backdrop for photos. We happily took our place in line, and 25 minutes, two granola bars and an applesauce later, we caught our first glimpse of them. "Look, Madeleine! There's an elephant!" I said, pointing to a life-sized painted elephant that had been decked out in floral patterns. "Ah-ba! Ooh!" she said excitedly. That was my first mistake.

There were so many people taking pictures and so many people trying to stay out of other people's pictures, and if there's one thing you have to know about Minnesotans, it's that "Minnesota Nice" gets pretty aggressive with a crowd. It was basically like each camera was shooting out a fatal laser beam and so your life depended on avoiding it, resulting in what appeared to be the most awkwardly choreographed flash mob of all time. Because how dare you accidentally walk in front of a digital camera. It'll take them a whole two seconds to take another shot, and now they only have 97 percent battery life remaining! For shame.

So back to my mistake. All Maddie wanted to do was get as close as possible to the elephant. It seemed perfectly logical to her: she would just crawl through the garden and touch it. So when it became apparent to her that this would not be happening, she wasn't happy about it. Even worse, that one elephant at the entrance was the only animal figure in the whole place so there was nothing else for a one-and-a-half-year-old to look forward to. (Seriously, Macy's. Couldn't you just throw in a giraffe or a sloth or something? Anything!) 

Me, while Husband tries to get a decent photo: "Smile Maddie! Ooh, smell the tulips, mmmm, don't they smell pretty?" 

Maddie's expression: Ummm, where's the elephant? I can't see him, there are too many people around. This blows, I'm outta here!

And as quickly as her face had lit up upon seeing that elephant, it furrowed into the most terrifying expression I have witnessed to date. Oh no it's happening, I thought. The Meltdown is happening and we're stuck in the middle of this zen garden and people are being freakishly nice and she's doing that silent cry right before the really loud one and there's NO WAY OUT!! And I was exactly right. Maddie cried so loud that even the tulips turned in our direction to see what could possibly be the matter. And I'm pretty sure my face turned redder than the poppies. "We're done," I said to Patrick, who must have seen the fear in my eyes because he heroically weaved his way through the crowd, camera and stroller in hand as I carried our screaming child through the laser beams. 

You would think by this point that all I'd want to do was get out of there. But in a moment of what I can only describe as pure INSANITY, I thought, Well maybe I can get just one good picture of Maddie looking at the elephant before we leave. 

Madeleine did not agree. We walked back down the Hallway of Happy Families and made our escape.

To be honest, I did get a better picture of Maddie later on, when we discovered a smaller elephant with flowers on the skyway level. She's smiling and happy, and isn't sporting a mute plug. But this one captures the truth. And sometimes the truth is just more refreshing.

[amommynous]

I can't take credit for this photo. But it was just too funny not to share. Girls will be girls!

[amommynous]

Last weekend, our little family ventured out to the zoo. All of us enjoy seeing the animals, and that day was no exception. The snow monkeys were swinging on their jungle gym of branches, the Komodo dragon was warming himself on the heated rocks, and the otters were doing playful laps in their water habitat. Madeleine was content to observe one animal then the next, with equal interest devoted to the other children and babies around her.

But when we reached the aquarium, Madeleine stood transfixed, her forehead pressed up against the glass for a full two minutes. As anyone who's had a one-year-old knows, this kind of pause is a rare occurrence. To watch as her eyes explored this new underwater world and the beautiful creatures within it was pure magic. We can't wait to go back.

[amommynous]

Halloween at our house was, like most days with a one-year-old girl, lovely and pink. Maddie toddled around the bassets and grandparents to rave reviews, not only for her pink bunny costume (for which I will unabashedly take partial credit--thank you Amazon!), but also for the "bunny face" she made to go along with it (much credit due to my mother here. Thank you Nana!). Here's how our conversation went most of the evening.

Me: Madeleine, what does the bunny say? 

Maddie: [scrunches up nose and makes sniffing sounds]

Audience (varying mix of family, dogs and neighbors): [laughs, howls and/or applauds wildly]

It's the simple things in life, is it not? Here's to many more Happy Halloweens.

[amommynous]

ONE: It's a big number.

Madeleine will be ONE tomorrow. Am I ready for this?! Common sense tells me no. But my sense of adventure tells me, YES! FULL SPEED AHEAD! And common sense also tells me that either way, there's no turning back. This is going to be fun.

[amommynous]

Mid-Blowout Conversation

For most of the world, a "blowout" means a professional blow dry at a hair salon. For parents, it means something else entirely. The English language is funny like that...

Anyway, my husband and I were in the middle of tag-teaming a GIGANTIC blowout diaper change yesterday when the following conversation ensued:

Husband: (Trying to make the best of it holding Madeleine up while I attempt to wipe her) Well, they say you're not a parent until--

Me: (Showing him my freshly poop-encrusted nails) Until you've got (whispered) *shit* under your fingernails?

Husband: Really? Is that a real saying?

Me: No, I totally just made that up.

(Both of us laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Aaaannnnd, scene.)

But it's totally true. And no one talks about how difficult this is. So, to all of you fellow parents, I salute you for your steadfast "clean or bust" resolve, and your unwavering bravery in the face of many a poop storm. It is highly admirable and I commend you.

[amommynous]

5 Things I Never Did Before Becoming a Mom

My daughter is a whopping nine months old now. And it's safe to say that I am completely, unabashedly obsessed with her, to the point where public embarrassment is hard to come by. Here are a few things I never did before becoming Mommy.

Talk like a baby in the grocery checkout line. I'd like to say that I can still hold an adult conversation. But a conversation of "Dadadada bababablaahhh" holds my attention just as well, and I'm up for it anytime, anywhere. I'm waiting for the day I accidentally answer the phone by saying, "Heywoah?" It's going to happen.

Wait for places to open. No matter what time I go to bed, I know Madeleine will be up around 7 a.m. every morning, which means I've gotten better about going to bed earlier on the weekends. When I want to let my husband sleep in, I get up with Madeleine and we go on little adventures to parks, lakes, stores and malls. She loves riding in the Baby Bjørn and her stroller. The thing is, I tend to forget just how early 7 a.m. is for retail. I'm not the only one, either. You should have seen the families waiting in their cars in the Toys R Us parking lot. And how the minute it turned 9 a.m., they all headed for the entrance. 

Talk about poop. Until recently, Madeleine's bowel movements have been only once every 6 or 7 days. To my shock and horror, the pediatrician has assured me multiple times that this is completely normal. It also means that when she does poop, it's a big deal. After all, the poor girl hadn't pooped for 7 days! I feel no shame in declaring to the world (while strolling through Target talking to my husband on my cell phone) that she pooped and it was "gigantic." I do not hesitate before describing its color and consistency, and how it got all over my hands and hers when she decided to grab onto the wipe so I had to give her a second bath. 

Kiss constantly. I recently saw a GIF of a dad kissing his son on the head repeatedly. I cannot explain this parental urge, I can only succumb to it. There's nothing quite like kissing my little daughter on her head or her cheek. It's so constant that she's actually learned how to kiss me back! I ask her for a kiss and she'll open her mouth really wide and put it on my cheek like a suction cup. Sometimes she'll laugh afterwards. I'm happy that one of the first things she has learned is affection.

Not worry about what other people think. One of the first things I learned as a parent is that my child's safety and happiness come first. I know I'm doing a good job; I don't have to have other people's approval. That's why I laugh when we come home from a walk in the Bjørn and I notice one of her shoes has disappeared and she's had a piece of mango from earlier stuck to her eyebrow the entire time. What doesn't hurt her, doesn't hurt me. Besides, it's good to be original.

[amommynous]

It’s pretty much a universally-accepted truth that dads are just funny. Just take a look at Exhibit A, filmed right after an early evening walk around the neighborhood. Happy Father’s Day!

[amommynous]

After months of anticipation, dozens of teething rings, a few bottles of Baby Tylenol and a tube of Orajel, The Teeth have made their fashionably late appearance. And they are magnificent. They also have talents. They can bite many things, including blankets, cups, spoons, parents, guests, toys, stuffed animals and real animals -- namely, the ever-patient family basset hounds. But mainly, they are magnificent. 

[amommynous]

Today, our family journeyed over to explore the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden. It was a warm, windy day, and Madeleine loved the hundreds of wind chimes they’d suspended in the trees.

[amommynous]

Sleep Schmeep

I wish I could say that I'm one of those people who can run on happiness and Red Bull alone. Sadly, the opposite is true. I need my sleep. In fact, I've been an eight-hour girl for as long as I can remember.

But lately, we seem to be taking one step forward and two steps back on Madeleine's journey towards a full night's sleep, and I'm dragging. She used to wake up twice a night to eat, then fall right back to sleep. Now, she's waking up 6 and 7 times a night, and we often have to rock her back to sleep for 20 minutes or more each time. I'm starting to think of sleep not as a state of being, but as an elusive bliss that continues to taunt me with limited tastings. It's pretty much official: I've become a bit neurotic.

So what is causing this sudden sleeplessness? We're not on a houseboat, or in Seattle (although I do adore that movie). We put her to sleep on a consistent schedule. Could it be teething? Gas? Stomachache? A mere realization that being awake can be more fun than being asleep? Could she be having night terrors? I need some advice. My dear child is almost 8 months old and has never slept 8 hours straight. Or 7 for that matter. All options will be appreciated and considered. My husband and I can't wait for the day we get to hit the hay until we wake up the next morning. Just thinking about it makes me drool a little bit. Yep, neurotic.