Chicago Moms Blog

What I would do for a drive-thru

Our city life affords us lots of opportunities to walk.

When the weather is nice, we frequently leave the car in the garage and hoof it around our neighborhood. I put the baby in a stroller, the kids hop in their bikes, and we are off to take care of business. We can walk to the market, dry cleaners, park, bank, post office, drug store and (most importantly) the corner gelato shop.

But I have to confess that there are other times when I positively long for the convenience of a drive-thru. I'm not talking about the "golden arches." The city needs more helpful drive-thru windows -- drive-thru banks, drive-thru non-fast-food spots, drive-thru pharmacies, and of course, a drive-thru Starbucks.

Summer Camp Opt-Out

Seems like everyone in Chicago offers some sort of summer camp. There is zoo camp, nature camp, drama camp, dance camp -- even pirate and cheerleading camps.

Of course, there are the fancy-schmancy camps that pick your kid up from your house in a mini-bus. And then there are the much-sought-after (and more affordable) Chicago Park District day camps.

Sign-up for some of these summer experiences starts in February when I am in no mood to think about such things (how am I supposed to know what we are doing the second week in July when we still have three months of winter left?).

Still, every year parents all around me are frantically registering for this and putting down deposits for that. Everyone seems to be enthusiastically planning the perfect summer for their kiddos

This year, I decided to ignore summer camp sign up hoopla entirely, Friends would ask what I had planned for my kids for the summer and I would just reply, "I don't really know. Just taking it easy, I think."

And then one day I woke up with a mom butt

I've noticed that my physical aging isn't taking place in a linear, predictable, consistent manner. For the most part, the changes are subtle and occur slowly over time. An ever-so-slightly deeper wrinkle here. A barely perceptible sag there. But other changes seem to literally take place overnight -- and I'm sorry to say that seems to be the case with my poor rear end.

I swear that my backside was fine (or at least fine-ish) just a week or so ago. But today I noticed that there has been a significant, impossible-to-deny change. I now have the butt of a middle-aged mother. It is wider. It's flabbier. And it seems to have lost all of its natural perk.

I am in my mid-thirties and I've born three babes in fairly rapid succession so it isn't like I am expecting to have the rear end of a college co-ed or anything. I am just surprised at how fast things went south in this department.

Food Allergy Etiquette

Earlier this week, my two-and-a-half year-old nephew was diagnosed with a whole slew of food allergies. This little guy's diet is now seriously limited. His mom and dad are understandably reeling from the news and working to get educated about how to best manage their child's new dietary limitations.

My kids see their cousin nearly every day. We frequently have "kids' dinner" where we just feed all six of our little ones together. We play (and snack) together on a near daily basis.

I love this little guy like he is my own. I want to do whatever I can to make sure this difficult transition easier for both he and his parents. Because this is my first up-close experience with a child with food allergies, I am unsure how to best handle some of the situations that are inevitably going to arise.

Because my nephew is only two-and-a-half, he can't be expected to understand why other kids can have things that he can no longer eat himself. So it seems to me that the best policy is to avoid those potential melt downs when possible -- at least for right now. For example, when all of our kids are playing together, it certainly makes sense to limit the snacks that are around to ones that my nephew is allowed to eat too.

Embracing Failure - For my kid's sake and my own

I recently attended a blogger event at the Dyson U.S. headquarters here in Chicago. In between eating catered meals, networking, and catching up with some blogging buddies, I learned a lot about how the engineers at Dyson created their innovative vacuums.

During a presentation from a charming British engineer named Andy, he mentioned how the founder of the company went through 5,127 different iterations in his attempt to invent the cyclone that is now used in Dyson's vacuums. Andy told us that the key to the success of his invention was having the courage to look past the conventions of every day life and think about problems in new ways -- even if that meant many failed attempts. Then he said, "We have to learn to think about failure differently. An experience is not a failure if you learn something from it."

And that statement has been running through my mind ever since.

Why do kids' birthday parties have to be so complicated?

In my opinion, a child's birthday celebration should be just that -- a celebration of the child and all of the ways that he or she has grown and changed over the past year.

But in my community, birthday celebrations are expensive and elaborate productions that seem to be more about a great party than the actual kid.

As I plan birthday parties for my soon-to-be six and four year-old kids, I am overwhelmed by options. Have a big bash or limit it to just family? Invite the whole class (plus siblings) or just a few friends? Do the whole thing at home or "outsource" to the party professionals? Goody bags or no goody bags? Or maybe we could even skip the party entirely and plan a family outing to a Cubs game instead?

An apology from one extended breastfeeder to another

My nearly fourteen-month-old baby is still breastfeeding -- like a newborn. This little guy is serious about his milk. I believe that we have entered "extended breastfeeding" territory -- at least by American standards.

When we passed the one-year mark, I started looking for signs that he was ready to step things down. I imagined that once he was walking, a leisurely twenty-minute nursing session mid-morning just wouldn't have the same appeal. I reasoned that I would get him onto a morning-and-night-only schedule and nurse him through cold and flu season and then call the whole thing off.

That hasn't happened yet. In fact, he seems more committed than ever. He nurses at least six times a day -- sometimes just for comfort, but mostly for his milk fix.

I need a vacation from technology

Last week, my little family had the opportunity to escape cold and dreary Chicago for warm and sunny Florida. In preparation for winter getaway, I packed up our swim suits, shorts and flip flops. I gathered up the necessary toiletries and threw in a few books and toys for my kids.

And then I packed the following dizzying array of technical devices:

My Macbook Pro (with power cord obviously)
My iPhone (with charger)
An iPod
A portable DVD player for the kiddos on the plane (unfortunately I forget the headphones so that was a bust)
My Canon EOS complete with 28-135 mm lense (and of course an extra battery and a USB cord in the event that I wanted to upload any photos to aformentioned Macbook Pro)
A Flipcam
My brand new Kindle that I got for Christmas (again with the charging cord)

At the end of the day

I regret to say that I am not at my best during the dinnertime and bedtime hours. Come five o'clock, I am tired. And so are my kids. After a long day, we all begin to unravel as hunger and fatigue set in. We crash and tumble towards our beds. It is often a bumpy ride.

I certainly don't want to end our otherwise happy days this way. But too often, I find myself overwhelmed, exhausted, and cranky as I tuck my little ones into bed.

Today was a good example. After school, my kids played together to unwind from the day. My baby toddled around the kitchen. I scrambled to get dinner together. Our Daddy had to work late so I was managing the night time routine solo. The evening was moving along swimmingly. Until.

It usually starts with a small disagreement over a toy. Or a dinner plate refused. Buttons are pushed. Fuses are short.

Why do adults have to ruin Santa for kids?

My five year-old came home from school last week with lots of questions about the existence of Santa. And who can blame her. Only a few weeks into the official holiday season, she has already seen at least three different "Santas" -- and all of them looked and acted very differently.

My daughter has some astute observations about fake beards, absent sleighs, and the practicality of parking a team of reindeer in the city. How can Santa bring presents to kids all over the world all in one night, she wonders?

She may only be five years-old, but she is no dummy.