DC Metro Moms

He Has a Point About Father's Day

I asked my husband what he wanted to do for Father's Day this year and he stated with a smirk, "A hike." I looked at him oddly and asked why he said it so sarcastically.  He explained, "Every year we go on a hike.  Every Father's Day it is all about being out as a family.  It's always the same."

Huh.

Except last we went to a nearby Potomac Nationals game.  He went on a bit more and said, "Mother's Day is all about rest and relaxation. There are spa treatments, Mom doesn't cook. She's pampered and left alone. Father's Day is all about being up in Dad's face."  OK, I might have paraphrased a bit in that last line, but it's precisely what he meant.  He doesn't go off alone to play golf, hang with other Dad's who just want to sip a good pinot noir and watch the sunset or get a massage.

DC Soda Tax Goes Flat. Healthy School Act in Jeopardy.

Earlier this month the DC Council disapproved the penny per ounce soda tax proposed by Ward 3 Councilwoman Mary Cheh.  This tax, which would include not just soda but sports drinks and sugary juice drinks, was proposed to assist in the funding of the $6 million a year Healthy School Act.  Currently the city does not have the funds to pay for this already passed act. 

When I heard the news that the soda tax had been shot down I was disappointed.  While I don't live directly in the District I do live in the surrounding area and wouldn't mind if the tax went nationwide.  Do I drink soda?  Yes.  Often?  No. My husband does (he thinks I don't know about his stash in the trunk of his car) and so do many other people I know. The subject of the soda tax doesn't bother them.  It might deter them from buying as much soda as before they stated but that wouldn't be a bad thing.  If the tax money went to fund programs like the Healthy School Act they have no problem with it either.  Naturally, no matter what the tax money goes towards beverage companies do not like this proposal.  Ads paid for by the soda companies against the tax have been running for quite some time stating that to tax these drinks would hurt the local economy, low-income families and take business away from the District. 

Poop and the Board of Environmental Health

I put down the phone and said, "I feel like a traitor. The bad guy.  The terrible friend."  Let me go back a bit and explain.  A month ago I was speaking at an event for women and greening your life.  Before it was my turn to speak another woman from the Prince William County Public Works got up to speak.  She mentioned that one of our county's biggest problems is animal waste that runs off into our rivers and streams creating all sorts of health issues for the community.  When I heard this I immediately perked up. 

Animal waste?  I know all about that. In fact, one of my neighbors does too.  They have a large dog and haven't picked up after it since oh, last fall. That was the last time they mowed their lawn too. Since then the  waste has piled up.  It's rancid and polluting not just their yard but running off into mine.  Yes, they have a fenced in yard, as do I.  However, when it rains, or snow melts like it did so much this past spring, the run-off goes into my yard making a smelly swamp that cannot be described.  Top off this mountain of poo with the trash bags that same dog broke into last fall and they never cleaned up or the lawn that is never cut and it all creates an enormous mess.  Now that the weather has turned warmer that mess smells.  My family and the one next door cannot enjoy our own back yards and decks due to this situation.  It's a nightmare. 

I Miss Our Humdrum Life

I'm sitting at my desk in yet another hotel room, my fifth this month, and I have a wonderful view of the hotel pool.  It's a gorgeous sunny day, a presentation looms before me and all I can do is look at the mother playing in that pool with her two little girls.  I wish it were me.  I saw them this morning at breakfast too.  Each girl still messy with bed head, bare feet and in their pajamas.  I wanted to hug a strangers kid because I miss my own so badly.

I've been traveling for work since the beginning of the month.  In fact, I normally freelance from home and this sudden influx, while not typical, has caused some flack to be blown my way. I'm a mother torn between work and home life once again.  That decades old battle.  It has been fun getting out into a more public work environment again I find myself missing our old routine. Wake up, write a bit, get the girls started on their day, school run, lunch, errands, nap time, work time, play time outside with the girls, making the meals, bath time and bedtime rituals.  It's exhausting, fun and often harried.  Some days I yearn for some freedom, a bit of alone time to eat my lunch without having to wipe applesauce off a window or pick up 52 green peas that have been dumped and squished onto the kitchen floor.  I've enjoyed my break from the laundry monster, grocery shopping, meal planning and cooking to be sure, but I desperately miss story time, soccer practice, hugs, giggles and the general flow that makes up our days.

A, B, C, D-cup

"Flat as a board." "Pirates nightmare- a sunken chest." "P.N.", that's Pirates Nightmare for short.  Those are just a few of the names I was called growing up a flat-chested girl.  I knew I would be small-breasted as my mother was and it is hereditary for the most part.  What I didn't know was that even freshman year of college I still hadn't gone through puberty.  It took being put on birth control to jump start everything and suddenly I was going from a barely there A-cup to a blossoming B-cup. Six months later I was the proud owner of a set of C's, no surgery required.  Friends and family were shocked to see me come home from my first year of college four inches taller and with a rack. 

Over the years with pregnancies and breast-feeding my cup size has changed over and over. It seemed to finally settle in and level off to a size I was comfortable with and that suited me.  Then baby number three happened and just the other day I looked in the mirror and the bra that had gotten me through my biggest "growth spurt" last pregnancy was literally spilling over.  The tops, the sides, it wasn't pretty. I had the dreaded four-boob going on.  I looked at my husband and said, "I think...I think...I need to buy a new bra.  A D-cup bra." He laughed and replied, "I bet you never would have thought you would ever say that back in your A-cup days." 

Uh no.  Most certainly not.

Wanted: Peace of Mind

It was a typical spring day.  I loaded the kids into the car and headed out to run errands when I saw red and blue flashing lights.  There at the end of my main road was a police cruiser blocking the intersection.  As I turned left I saw two more police cars.  Further down the road I encountered three more with officers canvasing the the area along the road.  They wore gloves and had the classic German Shepherd police dogs with them.  Driving out of my neighborhood I encountered more of the same.  I looked furtively around me as I noticed the police helicopter circling over head.  I prayed a child wasn't missing.  What in the world was happening on my quiet street?

Later that day I conferred with my neighbors and we all wondered aloud at the police presence we suddenly had in our area.  Parked at corners, along walking paths and walking on foot with walkie talkies the police popped up throughout our streets for two days.  One day later we had our answer.  A woman had been attacked at knife point the previous day as she took her dog for a morning run.  Through description of the attack and of the attacker it sounded like the East Coast rapist was back in our area. 

Our Circus Hits The Big Top

It was our first nice weekend.  The skies were blue. The birds were singing and even the sun decided to warm us with its rays.  Everyone on our block was outside basking in this first taste of spring weather.  Everyone, except my family.

While my husband grumbled about spending the day indoors and how we needed to, "Leave NOW!" as he stood impatiently by the front door. I was trying my best to soothe a child who only wanted to play outdoors with her friend and not go run errands and then hit the Big Apple Circus.  The morning had been spent rushing around cleaning the house, tying up loose ends with both kids clawing at our heels.  No one was happy.  Everyone wanted out and yet our attitudes were making it hard to even get out the door much less want to spend a day together as a family, circus or no circus.  We finally left the house in a hurry only to have to backtrack to pick up the forgotten diaper bag, sippy cups, camera and snacks for later in the day. Once we got on the road everyone seemed to relax as the sun-filled sky shepherded us on our way from store to store.  We drove through new neighborhoods and saw parts of our area that were completely new to us.  We had time to blow this afternoon before the big top event as we lazily made our way to Dulles Town Center. 

Learning to Say 'Yes' to Help

How many times have you heard a small child say, "I can do it myself!" as they glare at you?  Many times I am sure.  Well, I have never really gotten past that phase, especially when it concerns my mother.  In fact, until recently I could not even admit that I had a problem saying 'yes' or giving in to the idea of accepting help. I thought I pretty much had that under control. 

Right. Control.  That's the root of the problem isn't it?  I can't give up control.  I did not think this was an issue I had either.  I was completely fine having my mother come and visit.  She would try and help out and I would just get in the way.  I would loiter as she changed a diaper.  I would get out all the ingredients for dinner and the tools to make it.  Then I would stand and uh, supervise and then just take over.  Just in case she suddenly forgot that pasta needed straining or something.  I couldn't relax, let go and just let someone else take over.

Open Your Ears and Minds, It's Our Country at Stake

January, 1961 John F. Kennedy asked the following question during his inaugural address, "And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country."  Forty-nine years later the same question is still being asked.  Not by a President this time but by our very own citizens of this great country.

Looking back, I find it interesting to note that Kennedy proposed this during the early sixties.  Times were indeed a'chan-gin' and it would give way to less of the "greatest generation's" mindset of service and being bound to our communities but to the "me" generation, the 1970s and 80s, a time full of self-fulfillment, corporate ladder climbing, medical and technological breakthroughs and the end of the Cold War.  What followed in the 1990s was more of the same.  The new millennium didn't shatter any records in service either.  In fact, it is harder today to figure out a way to serve your country than it was thirty years ago, much less almost fifty years ago. 

Now we have a new President who has repeatedly asked us to put aside time for community service but that isn't necessarily the service I'm talking about.  Looking back again at Kennedy's address you will find the following quote, "So let us begin anew- remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof.  Let us never negotiate out of fear.  But let us never fear to negotiate.  Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us."  There! Right there!  You just read that too.  It's a call to the nation that we are still struggling with today.  Now, more than ever, we need to unite and stop trying to "win".  Winning isn't everything especially when our nation's future is at stake. 

Spring in January

As I type this most of the windows in my house are wide open.  The doors to my patio and my deck are open too.  It's windy, a bit cold and only January but I'm in the mood for spring cleaning!  Maybe it's the my most recent foray into home improvement that has spurred this on but somehow I doubt it.  I'm simply over winter. 

There I said it.  I know from my husband's Facebook status last week that we all need to "quit our bitchin' about the weather."  I can't help it though.  The sunny days, the recent higher temps and the early snowstorms we experienced in the metro area all have me feeling that it's time for spring. 

I've cleaned out my closets.  My basement is organized. While I may not have a gift wrapping room, I now have a whole shelf dedicated to that alone.  There are new shelves with more on the way.  Fresh paint adorns the walls of my downstairs bathroom while new fixtures on the sink sparkle and shine for everyone to see.  If I could only find a light for that room that doesn't remind me of a breast it would be complete. 

Valentines Day with its deep, velvety reds and glossy dark chocolates has not yet made an appearance.  We've yet to feel those blustery March winds and Easter clothes are just beginning to fill out the racks at the local department stores.  Here in my house though, I am declaring it spring.  I have to because if I don't I will surely lose myself further into the thicket that is Seasonal Affective Disorder.

Original DC Metro Moms post.  Victoria blogs daily about fighting the winter blues and more at The Mummy Chronicles.