Ohio Moms Blog

Columbus is for Runners

When I lived in my hometown of Chesaning, Michigan, I was an avid walker. When my 10-year-old twin daughters were small, I would bundle them up and toss them into the double stroller with a bag of Cheerios and a sippy cup and off we would go, bright and early in the morning. When my 6-year-old daughter was born, we bought a treadmill because it seemed just a bit more practical than a triple stroller that would accommodate two preschoolers and a baby. I put the baby in the sling and walked on the treadmill while the preschoolers played nearby. (Safety disclaimer: I do a lot of unsafe things with my kids that people shouldn't do. I don't think we're supposed to walk on the treadmill with a baby in a sling, so don't do that.) 

Shortly after we moved to Columbus in 2006, I grew bored of walking, so I started running. My first race was the Columbus Turkey Trot 5 Miler, which my Michigander friend Mechelle convinced me to run. She and her kids came down to Columbus and we ran it together. And by "together" I mean, she ran it twice as fast as I did, but that's ok because she won a pumpkin pie! And we had endorphins to help us cook the Thanksgiving meal! And the next year, we both won a pie! I was officially hooked on racing.

Attachment and Parenting

My sons are growing up-- one is 15 and the other is 11. Sometimes, when I think about it too much, I feel a teeny bit terrified about sending them out into the big ole world all on their own one day too soon.

I envision that mama bird who nudges her growing babies out of the nest so that they can learn to fly and it is an exciting yet scary image for me.

What if they fall? Will they ever return to the nest, just for a visit?

Yes, I tend to be an attached mom.

I've worked (and am still working) to let go, stop trying to fix it all and allow them to have their experiences...but it's so freaking hard at times!

We practiced attachment parenting when both the teen and the tween were babies. We shared sleep in shoved together futons for years and I breastfed both of them pretty much on demand for as many years as they each chose.

It was hard and precious work and I understand that this approach does not resonate for everyone. I don't regret these parenting choices.

However, it seems to me that somewhere along the line, I got confused. Attachment parenting does not mean that, as a mom, I get to attach myself to who and what they are and are becoming.

Do Germs Always Come with Indoor Play Areas?

Columbus, Ohio is truly dreadful at this moment in time with all the melting snow and icicles waiting to impale my children or my dogs. I could tolerate the snow more if there was sun, and if I knew that every time I took my children to a public play area they wouldn’t get sick. I carry the mommy pouch full of Clean Well spray and wipes, Purell, and the like, but nothing really helps keep the germs away as well as just staying home…but, that is impossible because I am not willing to go insane or gain twenty-five pounds from continuous baking. So, indoor play areas at the malls, COSI, Kingdom of Bounce, and other places will come to my family’s aid for some out-of-the-house fun.

There are plenty of free and cost options for indoor play in Columbus, and they are fun for the kids. The kids get to do the things they don’t get to do indoor at home: run, scream, ride on toys, meet new friends, and get a change of scenery. With that, they also bring home the latest germy gunk that is out there. As I keep a keen eye on my children, I watch other little cuties at play. Many of them are picking their noses, sneezing without covering their mouths, eating their boogers, wiping their boogers on their clothing or the nearest thing, coughing on each other, having a regular ol’ germ-filled good time. I know they can’t help it, and I am not judging them for sharing their mucus with everyone because I know they are simply kids; but, I can’t help thinking that kid’s booger was my ticket to another puke-filled night.

The Big Thrill of this Winter Olympics? The Commercials

With the exception of the occasional movie night, we don't watch much TV as a family. Ever since I instituted a daily 60-minute screen time limit, they've been choosing computer time over the television. But for these two weeks of winter Olympics, we've loosened the rules a bit to watch history in action as a family for thirty minutes before bedtime.

It's been an eye opening experience.

I'm not sure what I was expecting. It's difficult to be filled with patriotic fervor ensconced in the depths of the family couch, but I thought the kids would still experience some pride in seeing the American flags proudly waved around in a sea of crimson maple leaves. I also thought that witnessing these athletes propel themselves high into the air on skates, skis, and snowboards, sports they've just begun to learn, might also sow the seed of athletic ambition. But while we did erupt in cheers when Apolo Ohno won the gold, and while my son has started pestering me to take him skiing every day, that hasn't been the big excitement of these winter Olympics.

The thrill of these Olympics has been the commercials.

How Youth Sports Taught Me a Lesson

We gave our oldest son a choice in January: basketball or indoor soccer. He played basketball at our local YMCA last winter. It was his first experience with organized sports, though, if you've ever watched a youth sporting event, you will understand that I use the word organized lightly. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed t-ball last Spring even more. His choice for this year was soccer, brought about most likely by a love of the book Froggy Plays Soccer. (In fact, I think he'd do anything if Froggy did it.)

It's gone mostly well. We've been reinforcing the ideas that the point of the game is to learn about soccer and to have fun. He now understands that you kick the ball toward the goal in which the player has the other team's shirt color. He gets the point of the whistle. He listens to his coach. He's made a new friend or two. And he even gets back up when he's knocked down.

Which, of course, I'm having my own issues with because what Mom likes to watch her four year old son be knocked to the hardwood floor? Not this one.

Two games ago, he only hit the floor twice. I gave him the big thumbs up and he ran off after the ball. During the most recent game, he hit the floor seven times. Once or twice it was a foot tangle issue as he went after the ball with all the gusto he approaches any challenge he meets. The other five times were at the foot, shoulder, leg, other leg and hip of a child that I assume is on the upper end of the Under Six League. A Tall Drink for a young dude, he was good at what he was doing, whether it was running, kicking or knocking over my happy little son.

Turning off the Radio Never Got Easier

 Each weekday morning at 7:15 the girls & I get into the van and make the daily trek to school. The ride to drop off both the girls at their respective schools only takes me about 20 minutes roundtrip.  To fill the silence in the car (oh yes, there is silence because my girls are anti-morning people & I am happen to be a morning person) we listen to the radio.  

I can't stand their radio station with all the craziness in the morning. I don't like what they are saying & I really don't like the commercials they play.  The girls really don't care for the station that I listen to in the morning as they say it has too much talk.  We finally settled on WMJI, which boasts itself as playing 'Cleveland's greatest Hits.'  

It has news and weather (this is a must for my teenager, Giggles) and it has to have decent music (and thankfully my tween, The Chicken loves 'oldies'.) So we settled on Majic 105.7 as our radio station of choice in the morning hours.  Some days the music that it plays gives it staying power to last into the evening, that is, until this morning.

They started out with some local news, which lead into world news, which in turn they shared this story. 

The story is about an obese woman giving birth to a healthy baby girl in Romania yesterday via c-section. They went on to talk about how she required 4x the anesthetic than a 'normal' person would need for the same surgery.  Then it started to get ugly.

I got the job searchin' blues . . .

This job search thing is going to be the death of me.

I know searching for a job is easier in some ways than it's ever been. You don't have to hunt through the classifieds in the Sunday paper anymore and then spend the rest of the afternoon washing newsprint off your hands. You don't have to physically drive yourself to every potential employer in a 50-mile radius and ask if you can fill out an application. Networking with friends and colleagues can really pay off. You can do most everything electronically. And that's great.

But sometimes technology can be a real pain the ass.

One job search site I frequent keeps asking me if I want to work at Burberry. You know, the high-end fashion people who make all things beige-and-black plaid. Sure, I thought. I'd love to work at Burberry. I was a little surprised to find out they had a manufacturing facility here in Ohio -- I was certain they were a British company. But hey, Japanese cars are made in Kentucky -- why not British raincoats in Ohio?

Turns out the site has London, England, confused with London, Ohio.

As if.

Okay, scratch Burberry off the list.

Secretary of Agriculture Says It's a New USDA

In an exclusive call, the Silicon Valley Moms Group Bloggers recently spoke with Tom Vilsack, U.S. Secretary of Agriculture. He said it's a new USDA.

What do you have to say about their new initiatives to improve nutrition in school lunches and combat childhood obesity? He's listening to us.

Join the lively conversation over at Silicon Valley Moms Blog!

Saying No

I can't say no.  I try.

“Nnnnnnn...”

It just won't come out.

“Mom, I know you're allergic to all things with fur, but can we take in this SECOND stray cat?”

“Nnnnnnn... Nnnnnnaaaaa...”

Or, “I know I already have a pet rat, but we were just at the pet store, and they have a dumbo rat. A DUMMMBO rat!!! Mommmmmm, pleeeeeeease?”

“Nuh... Nnnnnnrrrr...”

And then there's, “Sharon, I know you're already a member of a gazillion organizations, but you should really join this one too because it only involves one thousand pounds of more work!”

“Nahwahhhhh!”

So I sneeze, go without sleep, stress (as a verb), cry, and drink (sometimes before noon).

Come Into My Office

I’ve wondered since having kids how any mom successfully works at home with more than one under the age of four.  (I’m guessing a little bit there, not having a four year old of my own!)  When I only had Sweetpea, I was working full time, but also taking masters classes in my “spare” time.  It was manageable to work during her naps on the weekends and after she went to bed during the week.  Now that I have two under the age of three, getting anything other than the minimum done seems like it takes a Herculean effort.  Granted, I have one under the age of 6 months, but I don’t see things getting any easier once she’s mobile. 

 I get wistful when I see tweets about moms sneaking out to Starbucks to get some work done on the computer.  With my husband’s work schedule, that just never happens.  With three deadlines staring me in the face, things are starting to look up, because I found Momtopia! (aka my new office) Where is this mythical place where mom can bring the kids along and get some work done?  Our local Chick Fil A!  As an added bonus, my oldest can burn some energy and play with kids her age – love it.