Chicago Moms Blog

Shear Genius Goes Springer

This Bravo devotee has to ask- what happened last night? Is it me or did things slip into a funk since Meredith left? I admit the show is not as structured as Project Runway or Top Chef, but putting a squid in someone's hair? Last season the stylists were able to showcase actual talent but I am not sure if this season was designed to highlight talent or character flaws.

Remember when Bravo had shows about culture, art and talent? Disappointed with the way network television tries to dumb down society with its laugh tracks and pratfalls, I saw Bravo paving the way for new television entertainment when they started Runway years ago. I don't watch a lot of TV but when I do, I want to see something that makes me think. Take it from a gal that had never watched any reality TV, Runway & Top Chef had something that I was intrigued to see each week that was presented to some extent... dare I say... kind of classy?

Did Bravo give up on Shear Genius?

Confession: I Have Never Pumped

Most people would assume that in the combined total of four and a half years that I've breastfed my children, I would have done some serious pumping in my day. But, I've never even once pumped. I don't even own a pump. And truthfully, those pump things kinda scare me.

I've always just kept my babies and toddlers close by, and since I stay at home, I have found that it's just easier (lazier?) to put them to the breast than offer a bottle. And bottles... we've never owned one of those either. Sometimes I've thought it would be very wise to at least keep some formula and a bottle here for an emergency, but I just have never done it. Thankfully we've never had a crisis come up. But anyway- back to this pump thing. I'm not asking for a pat on the back because I've never needed one. I am actually in awe of those of you that do pump day in and day out. Now that is devotion. And the things I hear that your pump says to you while you do it... this fascinates me.

How To Save Your Marriage

Because my partner/husband/dog walker suffered a devastating episode of Depression some years ago - almost tanking our marriage. I wrote about it, madly, at the time. So it's not too surprising that I get a lot of hits on my blog from search strings like "how does relationship survive?" and "I don't want a divorce."

It breaks my heart, sometimes. I know the economy is driving up depressions and pressures on relationships. I want to crawl through the wires and just hold them tight. Whoever 'them' is, wherever 'them' may be. I'm listening, and I'm pulling for you.

The best I can do is offer the wisdom that worked for us. When one of us was utterly incapacitated in so many ways (him) and the other one of us was doing the work of two people (me), we were lucky enough to have bright, kind, generous people (including a divorce lawyer) who took the time to help us make it.

This is what worked for us. And, still does. 

War Games

... cross posted from our sister site, Deep South Moms Blog.
As a mom of three boys, I am no stranger to loud, noisy games. Having grown up with all sisters and a more quiet (albeit high-drama) style of play, I have finally adjusted to the ways that boys play. They don't just drive toy cars, they slam them into each other and send them sailing down the stairs to perform death-defying stunts. They don't paint with brushes when they can dip their entire hand in the jar of paint and slam it down on the paper, sending splatters all around the room. They don't walk anywhere - they run, shove, jostle, and slam. Anything with a smooth surface that will raise them a foot or two off the ground will be adopted as a step stool to reach something inappropriate that has been purposely stored out of their reach. Any food item with accompanying liquid is fair game for a science experiment of some sort. And so on and so on. But today the boys introduced me to a newer, more violent form of play - a little game they call "Let the Bad Guys Beat Each Other Up".

Click HERE to continue reading at Deep South Moms Blog.

Leggo-palooza? Lollapa-Lego!

I'm officially old.  My friend Christina said to get a gauge of your age in culture years, take a look at the Lollapalooza line-up and count how many bands you have heard of.  Just heard the name, not own records from or can identify songs.  I got about seven.  According the inverse property, that makes me...uh, carry the nine...Old.

But on a outing with my two daughters to the new Lego Discovery Center, I found that we had a kind of a rock festival experience of our own.

Who wants to think about Christmas?

I just had one of those "I have to blog this" moments.  It was the morning rush at the Starbucks drive-thru, which gave me a lot of time to sit in my car and stare at a poster in the window of the Hallmark store next door. 

The sign indicated that the 2008 Hallmark keepsake ornaments debuted July 12. 

July?!!!

When Mother Nature Grounds You

Like most people we were astonished to hear tornado sirens (for the first time) Monday. Michelle, our neighbor who watched the house, stopped by to catch up and our mouths dropped when we heard the deep trumpeting sound. Uh, I guess we'll head to the basement now. We agreed to text when we got there with the kids.

As soon as we reached the last step we understood that the sound of rushing water wasn't just outside, it was in the basement! The soaked walls sprung leaks like fountains as Andy and I scooted all the goodies for my yard sale to dry areas. Meanwhile the kids used our emergency flashlights to create a strobe light effect in the dark dungeon. This gives new meaning to Panic at the Disco!

Leave it to my little one to add a little light hearted humor to the situation. As we all tried to avoid the newly forming rivers beneath our feet, Chaz just navigated back and forth with the blue cooler calmly. When Jack asked him what he was doing, he simply replied "I just came back from the harbor." What? The courses of pure laughter settled our nerves and put things into perspective. Despite the flurry of activity, we were all safe and stuff is just stuff, right?

Nordstrom personal shopping service- good for any old mom

She had me at “You look like a size six.” And when she headed straight for the sales rack, I was in love. Maybe it wasn't love exactly, but the blend of profound admiration and gratitude as one feels for a parent, tutor or therapist- all of which she was to me in our brief time together.

I never would have thought to engage the services of a Nordstrom personal shopper on my own. Indeed, my blog buddies Devra and Pamela taught me that Nordstrom's free personal shopping service was not just for the rich and powerful or divalicious types who don’t mind shelling out thousands of dollars in a single shopping spree. It's also for shlubs like you and me (or at least me)!

My mom nearly choked when I told her I had an appointment with a Nordstrom shopper. I'm a fashion-backward type who doesn't make it out of the house much beyond carpools and, well, carpools. I hate, HATE shopping. In fact, the last time I stepped foot in Nordstrom was to have a mammogram.

If I Only Knew

... cross posted from our sister site, NJ Moms Blog.

Summer is winding down, and so too is the last weeks of summer camp for my son.  But this year is different, because this summer is the last summer of my son being a little boy.

He starts Kindergarten next month.  My baby is a big boy now.

As a mother, we all know how fast time accelerates.  One day we are knee-deep in diapers, praying for the day potty training is behind us.  Or we wonder if our babies will EVER give up that sippy cup or their treasured blanket.  We clap with glee when they transition to a big boy/big girl bed.  We marvel when they dress themselves (alone) for the first time.

And in an instant a young boy or girl emerges.  With personality and independence, they start to make their way on their own.

Click HERE to continue reading at NJ Moms Blog.

He starts Kindergarten next month.  My baby is a big boy now.

As a mother, we all know how fast time accelerates.  One day we are knee-deep in diapers, praying for the day potty training is behind us.  Or we wonder if our babies will EVER give up that sippy cup or their treasured blanket.  We clap with glee when they transition to a big boy/big girl bed.  We marvel when they dress themselves (alone) for the first time.

And in an instant a young boy or girl emerges.  With personality and independence, they start to make their way on their own.

Click HERE to continue reading at NJ Moms Blog.

Nostalgia

I had plenty of plans for the summer and all of them revolved around nesting for the new babe.

Clean the attic, the garage, the basement. Paint the woodwork, strip the front porch, freecycle all of the clutter, and take all the loose pennies under the couch to the bank.

Did I get any of it done?

Well, some. But I would have rather been at the beach.

Flashbacks

Yesterday, my husband downloaded some pictures from his phone. Keep in mind that he has had this phone for, oh, 2 years now, and has never done this. You can then imagine the emotional hour I spent, rifling through the dozens of random shots my husband felt compelled to keep all this time. Mostly blurry pictures, with our eyes shut (the timing of the camera phone is a bit off). Mostly when we weren't expecting him to snap a picture...

This shot made me smile wistfully...

This Week's Hot Posts

With so many amazing pieces to choose from, it's always so hard to choose a post from each blog each week. This week's Hot Posts is highlighting some moving posts including a tribute to Vicki Forman's son by Kari and the return of Karen's children from their camp for deaf children. Cindy reflects on how parenting never becomes easier. We also have two posts about struggles with the environment: Aimee about being exposed to a smoker, and Emily about struggling to eliminate dangerous toxins. And finally, we also have some humorous posts about Sandbox Politics by Rebecca, about playing Simon Cowell gently by Amy, and about Marsha's dangerous procrastination. Enjoy!

• Cindy from 50-Something Moms Blog realizes that letting go never becomes easier in Hard Won Advice from an Older Mom.
• Karen from Chicago Moms Blog mourns the end of camp along with her children in Camp is Over, It's Back to the Real World.
• Aimee from DC Metro Moms Blog realizes smoking wreaks more damage than she thought in It Might Be Second Hand Smoke, but It's First Hand Modeling.
• Amy from Deep South Moms Blog shows world-class tact in The Painful Truth.
• Marsha from LA Moms Blog is nearly burned by procrastination in That's the Ticket!
• Emily from NJ Moms Blog gets overwhelmed in It's Not Easy Going Green.
• Rebecca from New York City Moms Blog turns into THAT mom in Sandbox Rules.
• Kari from Silicon Valley Moms Blog joins a beautiful movement to honor Evan Kamida, son of Vicki Forman in The Journey of Evan's Flowers.

Camp is Over, It's Back to the Real World

Camp week is over--the kids are back home.  We've plowed through the mountain of laundry and emptied the gritty stuff from the bottom of the duffle bags.

My daughter is moping around the house.  "You know, Mom, if I was back at camp, I'd be cheerful and happy," she announces.

I sigh. 

I know the letdown.  I used to be a camp counselor at the very same camp that all three of my kids attended last week.  I remember the feeling of wanting camp to go on forever.

I Should Not be Allowed to Own Electronics

My old Mac laptop from my single days crapped out a few months ago, leaving all forms of un-backed-up electronic media locked inside its defunct little walls.  (Yes, I know there are ways to recover these things.  No, I haven't done anything about that.) 

I realized yesterday that it was time for a replacement.  Husband was headed out of town with our other laptop, leaving my only computing option to be our desktop computer in the basement.  Now, while this is technically our newest, best computer, it is also located in our basement, home of all the boxes we never unpacked when we moved, umm, a year ago.  Being down there stresses me out.  I certianly didn't want to be trapped down there during my telecommuting day this week. 

The Business Plan of Happiness

... cross posted from our sister site, DC Metro Moms Blog.

I've never been one for timing.

I graduated from college in the tech boom of the late '90s and immediately started to work my tail off in the San Francisco Bay Area...for peanuts as a federal government employee. I watched my fellow sorority sisters and classmates secure jobs at Cisco and Intel and startups. As they became worth millions "on paper" and rose to Internet stardom and power, I plugged away writing press advisories and attending town hall meetings and helping constiuents, with a second job in the evenings at a store. I was happy and fulfilled...and poor.

Click HERE to continue reading at DC Metro Moms Blog.

Options and Opting-Out

I was having a rough evening. Kevin's been working non-stop the last week, preparing for the upcoming week at a conference in Utah, where he'll be giving many hours of lecture. So he's been completely off baby-duty and household-duty, except when I really was at my wits' end. I've mostly been managing okay this past week, in part because Kavi's been in a reasonably good mood (no bad teething, sickness, etc.), and in part because Jarmila's been coming in the mornings, and in part because I haven't tried to get any writing done -- just household stuff, teaching, and baby-watching. Most of today was good too -- until about 4.
That was when I made a critical error, which was compounded by the dog making her own error (although she doesn't think so). Error mine: I decided Kevin should have a good meal before he left town, so I spent two and a half hours cooking (while watching baby, which is doubly exhausting). Rice, three somewhat time-consuming and labor-intensive curries. I thought I was fine at the start of it, but by 6:30, I was crashing with exhaustion. I had promised I'd take the dog for a walk, though, and the weather was beautiful, so I figured maybe a short walk and visit to the park would rejuvenate me. But no. No, no, a thousand times no.

Because yes, the weather was perfect, and yes, the park was lovely, and Ellie got to run around with two other dogs, and Kavi delightedly walked up and down the path, laughing, and I was feeling reasonably pleased with the world, if still tired, when we came back home. Only to discover, in the elevator going up, that Ellie had rubbed a big piece of dog shit all over herself and the elevator floor. Argh.

Boo, Lollapalooza

This weekend my family had grand plans to celebrate my Mom's birthday downtown, going to our favorite spots and letting the kids run around Millennium Park and Buckingham Fountain and all that jazz. I mentioned this to someone at BlogHer last week and they gently reminded me that, um, this weekend is Lollapalooza. Ugh.

Am I officially a granny now? All thirty-one years of me? Sure- if I had tickets and no kids I'd be super excited to attend that huge music fest (hello, Radiohead!) And yeah, they do offer a great option for those with kids at Kidzapalooza. That Perry Farrell is a genius and once, many years ago, I met him and he was super nice and he also wanted to trade pants with me- but that's a story for another time.

I brought my babies to Lollapalooza

Just because you can bring your kids to Lollapalooza doesn't mean you should. Yes, there is Kidzapalooza and it is wonderful (more on that in a minute), but you don't need 75,000 grungy boys and bikini-topped babes in 90 degree heat before 8 stages of very loud music and row after row of ripe-smelling port-a-potties to expose your kids to your favorite music.

Here's what we loved (all free):
- Body painting "tattooz" and freshly silk-screened t-shirts and tote bags by artists from Small Paul.
- Playing with the real rock band instruments in the School of Rock Petting Zoo
- Designing a CD cover with the nice folks from Crazy Kids Chicago and Art & Soul
- The Paul Green School of Rock All-Stars. I didn't spy any pre-pubescent guitar protegies, but the world-touring band of teens did some great covers of rock and roll classics.

Here's what we hated:

Do I Really Want a Full-Time Job?

... cross posted from our sister site, NYC Moms Blog. It's been almost four months since my husband's epiphany that going to a job he loathed, just clocking in his hours until he could finally retire was not the way he wanted to spend the next 15 years of his life. And so, being that he's attempting to redefine his career goals-- or what he wants to be when he grows up, I've felt compelled to break out of my comfortable but not so well-paying freelance writing career and hit the pavement in search of a full-time job. While I've gone on some interviews, I have to be honest, being that I live on Staten Island, my commute into Manhattan is at least and hour and then some each day-- which means leaving before my kids sit down to breakfast and getting home when they're ready to be tucked into bed. It's the dilemma every working mom faces-- the fact that when you're working full-time-you're probably going to get very little face-time with your kids. I know I'm hardly the first or last mom to feel this way, and maybe if I had gone back to work full-time after my kids were born, this would be a non-issue for me but the fact is I'm having a really hard time making that shift to full-time worker bee. Click HERE to continue reading at NYC Moms Blog.

When Did the Library Become Barnes and Noble

I spent part of yesterday at the library studying for a certification exam.  It was after I had attended the all day training class and my brain was a wee bit fried - okay it was past fried.  I found a cubicle at the library and started taking some practice tests only to get through 10 of them before there was a ruckus.

It wasn't so much the toddler that was screaming for her mommy because little kids don't always know to be quiet in the library.  Nope - it was the grown up patron shouting across the room to the library asking where a book was.  On top of that, the library shouted back to the patron several times on where the book in question was.  I was shocked and annoyed and couldn't figure out why the library couldn't get of her lazy duff and attend to the patron or why the person couldn't walk 10 feet over to the desk where the librarian was sitting.

What's So Great About Work?

I quit my job as a newspaper reporter in 2006 to stay home with the kids. When I recently did a freelance job for my former employer, I was reminded of the highs and lows of work outside the home.

Actually, most of the lows of working at a company don't set in when you do a quick three-day job. They're the insidious things that accumulate day after day: the boredom of routine; the culture of untruth that seems mandatory at practically any corporation; the fluorescent lighting; the feeling of inertia resulting from inflexible office cultures; being forced to spend time on things you know you're not good at or interested in; involvement in long-term dysfunctional work relationships; loss of a sense of self-direction and, ultimately, for me, a diminished sense of self.

That's why it puzzles me when I hear mothers say that they need to work outside the home to maintain their identity.

Now, I'm no anti-feminist who thinks all mothers should make the same choice I made. Please -- I know there are a million good reasons that parents of both sexes work outside the home. I just have a hard time understanding what people find so fulfilling about working for the man.

I also know that women pay a heavy price for being, disproportionately, the ones who take time out to raise families. I've been known to quote chapter and verse from Ann Crittenden's "The Price of Motherhood." I'm aware that by barely earning anything for half a decade or more means I am piling up financial risk for myself in the form of an anemic 401(k).

Yet I am so grateful that I got the opportunity to take a career break. And not because of all that quality time I've spent with my daughters. Maybe in spite of all that quality time.

The MPG of an Ice Cream Cone

... cross posted from our sister site, New Jersey Moms Blog.

At the beginning of this summer, I had a plan. I even wrote it down. The kids and I would go to our pool co-op twice a week, grocery shopping once a week, to Six Flags once a week, and one special place like the Philadelphia Zoo or the New Jersey State Aquarium once a week. Rainy days could include a trip to the mall to stretch our legs or a trip to a bookstore. Days off would be spent around the house, on our new patio, and catching up on housework. Gas prices crushed that summer dream. Even as I make the five mile trip to the grocery store, I'm obsessed with watching the miles tick higher on my tripometer, and watching the fuel gauge skydive to the red. Even innocent trips to Rita's Water Ice with the kids turns into a calculation of MPG per ice cream cone. I know the cost to drive to Six Flags, which is only 15 minutes away, and add that to the cost of our annual passes. I don't like living like this, and because of it, my daughter's summer is suffering. Heat wave on top of heat wave in New Jersey makes it difficult for her to even go outside and play, so we are trapped in our air conditioned home.

Click HERE to continue reading at NJ Moms Blog.

News of "the Arm"

Consider this: Jeff's summer camp offers unlimited one-way emailing AND the camp website posts at least two hundred photographs daily, plus a daily newsletter. When I first heard about these services, I scoffed. My parents got a few letters during my annual camp stay and they never complained!

My derision has come back to haunt me. I have become a web junkie, eagerly checking the site every afternoon to check out the pictures. The same faces, day after day. I feel like I know those kids, but none of the photos are of MY KID.

I cannot expect Jeff to write home. I supplied him with four self-addressed, stamped postcards to fulfill the weekly letter-writing obligation. Two are addressed to me and two to his brother. Not only that, but I composed the text, too, so that he would only have to fill in the blanks for such statements as "My counselor's name is __________." "My favorite camp activity is _________."

Signs of a happy summer

There are several ways to evaluate the happiness of your child's summer. The criteria is simple:

1. How many nights did they catch lightning bugs and/or stay up late to see the stars come out? It's a simple, timeless activity. Free of charge but not often indulged upon by over-scheduled parents and kids. A child must have a lazy, long day available the following day for a late night of chasing bugs as they flit about your yard.

Do I deserve a break today?

I need a break.  But I don't feel like I deserve one. 

Here's why I don't feel deserving.  First off, we just went on vacation two weeks ago.  I felt relaxed then, or at least as relaxed as a you can be on a plane-based vacation with a toddler.  You can't argue that you need a break two weeks after getting back from vacation, right? 

Second, I think maybe there's a part of me that doesn't think I have a right to complain at all, ever.  I know I have a cushy life with my cleaning lady and grocery delivery.  I have a supportive husband and I only have one child, for crying out loud.