I was hoping that nobody at the middle school would realize that I was spying on my son. I’d just followed the junior kindergarten bus to school, and I was hiding next door at the middle school, watching my first-born, Nicholas, get off the bus.
Loser.
I didn’t want to be a helicopter mom, but if you knew how much hand-wringing I’d gone through before making the decision to put my son into junior kindergarten, our school system’s program for children who aren’t quite ready for the rigors of a competitive kindergarten (a.k.a. boys), you’d understand. He was the oldest kid in the program and, according to the principal, he really only needed half-a-year, but there was no such thing. As a result, the decision was much harder than I’d anticipated. (more…)
Ever since an e-mail came in from a PR person offering me a “prenatal music belt [that] offers a more modern, comfortable way to help your baby’s development with your favorite music,” I have been trying very hard to be nice. After all, the PR person was just doing her job, and, having been in her job before, I know that she doesn’t need to be raked across the coals by a cranky mom blogger.
But c’mon folks: “Any mom-to-be will tell you that stretching a headset across your belly is clumsy and hard to position.” Really?
Nope. Never tried it. But I did accidentally flip on the seat heaters in my mother’s new car the summer I was pregnant with my second son, and immediately assumed I had gone into labor.
Not that I expect a PR person with a million things on her plate to know everything I’ve ever written or produced. I can’t even remember everything I’ve written or produced. But I do think these sorts of baby-improving gadgets are not only silly, but they add unnecessary pressure to mothers-to-be who are busy enough trying to figure out how to switch off the seat heaters in their cars.
Moms-to-be have enough to worry about without having to strap on an iPod to their pregnant bellies so their babies can get a headstart on their Beethoven (or Devo or Lady GaGa) musical education. And though I know that quite a few prestigious parenting awards have been bestowed upon this particular device, I still wonder why it’s so darn important nowadays to make sure our not-even-born-yet babies listen to music in the womb, which the press release says, (unnamed) experts assert “encourages learning, language development and memory skills.”
But I assert that our babies spend the first 18-22 years of their lives learning, developing language and improving their memory skills. Can’t they just have a few months of peace and quiet? And who says that listening to their mothers sing along with “Jungleland” on the car radio doesn’t produce the same results (albeit out-of-tune)? Because that’s what I’m banking on getting my kids into the ivy league institution of their choice.
Or not.
Rather, I think it’s our children’s life lessons, from school work to piano lessons to lazy afternoons catching fish at the community lake, that I believe will make my kids well-rounded enough to succeed in life. And I know I’m not in the minority here. Not anymore. Too many of us are parenting a little less intensely these days, letting kids be kids (and fetuses be fetuses), so that they develop in their own way, and not through my iPod’s playlist. Whether you’re raising Free Range Kids or you’re simply slow parenting, you know what I mean. And you probably don’t have any plans to strap anything to your pregnant belly anytime soon.
But if you are, well, at least now you’re not alone. The press release promises: “And it’s a great way for daddy to get involved, let him pick the tunes for the iPod!” Might I suggest “Video Killed the Radio Star”? Aha! That’s next: MTV for the baby-to-be, because, I as learned today, “Your baby’s education should begin in the womb.”
Darn. I’m 13 years too late.
Share, share, that’s fair: So, what’s it going to be? “You go, girl” or “You’ve ruined your kids”? Tell us what you think.
When Lenore Skenazy suggested to the First Lady yesterday on her blog, Free Range Kids, that the battle against childhood obesity can’t be won without letting kids play, I agreed. But I bristle at the (anti Free Range) idea that we have to teach our kids how to play. Here’s what I wrote 18 months ago for Good Housekeeping:
All five boys in my backyard were complaining through my window at the same time. Something about “weapons” and “territory” and “He started it.” Apparently, one of the boys had violated the rules they’d set up about pilfering “weapons” (a.k.a. hockey sticks and wood) from the other group’s “fort” (a.k.a. a precarious lean-to in the woods.) But I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Then my phone rang.
“Go figure it out yourselves,” I shouted over the complaints and the ringing. “If you can’t get along, you can all go home.”
I didn’t hear from them again. One-by-one, they raced by my window, shouting orders to each other for the rest of the afternoon. I figured they’d worked it out – anything to get to play together.
Then an e-mail came to my computer about some books designed to teach children backyard games that “demand imagination and physical well-being.” In other words, they teach them how to play. (more…)
You found three mittens in the toy box – and they’re all lefties.
After a month of constant play, your kids’ Hokey Pokey Elmo can no longer put his whole self in.
You wrestle the baby’s snowsuit on, and then he fills his diaper.
You’re flipping through the TV channels, remote in one hand and credit card in the other, for a fundraiser to cure Cabin Fever.
You’ve spotted two of the missing right-handed mittens — on the neighbor’s snowman.
The sun goes down hours and hours before your kids do.
You wish the stroller had four-wheel-drive.
Don’t worry. The groceries stay nicely refrigerated in the car, right where you forgot them.
Your socks are now starring in a puppet show with no plot.
You’ve heard the two words that put fear in the hearts of all parents: Snow Day. Again…
Parts of this list appeared in Parenting magazine, back in the day, and yet it still applies.
Share, share, that’s fair: If there’s one word to describe MommaSaid’s fans, it’s “clever.” Please share your signs of winter and we’ll all giggle into our hot chocolates together.
Magazine editors always want me to end sweet. That’s why the original ending for yesterday’s “What I Miss Most…” post here on MommaBlog was “…having an entire day without kids – and not missing them terribly!”
Barf.
I guess it’s their way of atoning for letting me rake motherhood across the coals. Yet every once in a while, I wonder if they’re right. (more…)
What I miss most is…
…using my tweezers on my eyebrows, instead of using them to retrieve Barbie’s shoes from the heating grate.
…dreaming long enough to find out whether George Clooney wears boxers or briefs.
…having an entire conversation that has nothing to do with poop. Aw, geez! There it is again.
…accessorizing with jewelry and scarves, rather than marker and what appears to be butternut squash & corn.
…dashing out with my car keys and some Chapstick, instead of packing up like the traveling circus just to go to the mall.
…showering without someone opening the door and handing me the phone while saying, “Some lady wants to talk to you.”
…to read a book anywhere but my car, because the baby naps only in her car seat.
…reaching the bottom of the laundry pile. For days.
…my purse, which I haven’t seen since I bought the diaper bag.
…non-animated television programs.
…sauntering through parking lots, supermarkets and Target without having to shout, “Stay by Mommy!”
…sex.
…uninterrupted telephone conversations. And, did I say sex?
Share, share, that’s fair: Tell us–What do you miss, Mom?
Need more giggles like that? There’s plenty of them in Jen Singer’s Stop Second-Guessing Yourself parenting series. Filled with helpful and funny quotes by MommaSaid.net’s fans and loads of advice and humor by MommaSaid’s founder, Jen Singer, you’ll get what you need — just as soon as you can hide in the bathroom long enough to read a few pages.
For more information on where to buy them, visit My Books.
Momma went away. Momma went away without the kids, without the husband. Momma almost went away without the plane (or rather, vice versa), but I didn manage to make it to the gate on time nevertheless.
It’s not like I’d never traveled before, like I’d never been to Newark Airport. Excuse me, “Newark Liberty International Airport.” And yet, there I was, missing my turn for the off-site parking lot and heading toward Port Newark, which would have been handy only if I was planning to board a petroleum tanker. But they don’t sail to Kansas City, and that’s where I was trying to go last week. (more…)
Honestly, I don't know how I found time to launch this web site in the first place, but I'm glad I did. Thank you for continuing to visit. Hey, can you carry this?
Seven years ago today — tonight actually, because I hadn’t yet learned how to program HTML on my own and needed Pete to push the buttons – I posted MommaSaid.net for the very first time. It wasn’t really a blog then, but some funny stories, a few photos and the very first Housewife Award®, given to my neighbor Nancy for playing peekaboo every day at the school bus stop – behind the one and only tree. (more…)
Andrea Summerville of B'Cara Salon trying to make me look like my eyelashes are naturally long for Park Place Magazine.
“What other rooms would you like to shoot in?” the magazine photographer asked me this morning, sweeping her hand toward my family room.
“Uh, well, this is the room I cleaned,” I said, thinking about the little papers from my shredder strewn pretty much all over my office floor and the dining room filled with remnants of The Great Closet Clean-out of 2010.
When she finished taking my photo on the couch, I let her photograph my kids and me in the living room. I didn’t have to move the tape dispensers, which was nice, and nobody reading the magazine article about me and “Mom 2.0″ will see the Pee Wee Herman doll sitting on the coffee table. Not this time, anyhow. (more…)
