Cream Cheese and Dog Hair

Few things annoy me more than seeing this in someone's home:

Who the hell is Mary Randolph Carter, anyway?

Or this: 

Or this:

Seriously?

I know at least five people who have similar signs in their house, and every time I see them I want to rip them down and use them to sweep up all the dust on the floor. I understand that not everyone can be Martha Stewart, but why in the world would you call attention to this fact by plastering it on your wall? 

Not only is it tacky, but it doesn't make any sense. Cleaning your house is a waste of time? In order for a house to be lived in, it must be messy? If my laundry is done and my kitchen is clean, my kids are unhappy? 

I grew up in a family of six children, and our house was practically spotless. Seriously, my mom can spot a dust bunny from a mile away. (Whitney- remember the piece of string?) Maybe that's why I believe in the importance of a clean, organized home. I do crazy things like vacuum, and dust the baseboards, and wipe the counters several times a day. I clean the bathrooms once a week, and I wash our sheets and towels on a regular basis. When Rory is finished playing, we (okay I) clean up before leaving the room. Books belong on shelves, clothes belong in drawers, and toys belong in baskets. 

I can imagine that cleaning and organizing must be especially challenging for working moms, and if it comes down to cleaning or spending time with your children, then by all means, spend your free time playing and reading with your children. And then once they're asleep, you can clean. This may sound extreme, but I just don't think there is any excuse to have a dirty house. In the past month, I've been to one house with dried cream cheese smeared all over the kitchen table and sliding glass door, and another with what must have been the equivalent of two pounds of dog hair on the hardwood floor. (This woman has a crawling baby, by the way.) 

I know moms should be building each other up, and I don't want to sound judgmental, but I did judge these moms. I couldn't help it. Being in these houses made me feel uncomfortable and anxioius, especially with Rory walking around and putting everything in her mouth. Contrary to the popular wall art pictured above, I didn't feel happier or more alive.

I read a blog post a few years ago written by a mom, who in a nutshell said that if people expected her to clean up before they came over, they weren't welcome at her house. Um, excuse me? I clean my house as a sign of respect to my friends and family because I want them to feel welcome and comfortable.

Now I'm not saying that my house is never messy. The basement playroom often looks like someone emptied every toy basket just for fun. (Because that's exactly what happened.) And more often than not, there is flour or coffee grinds on the kitchen counter, but it gets cleaned up. Not eventually, not the next day, but soon after. When Rory is engrossed in independent play or eating breakfast or napping, I take a few minutes to clean. Does this make me a bad mom? Perhaps. But Rory will never be embarrassed to bring friends over. She will go to sleep on clean sheets every night, and she will never have to wear dirty clothes to school. 

So does keeping a clean, organized home make me a better mom? Absolutely not. That's my point...it has no reflection on how happy my daughter is or how well my time is spent, and it certainly doesn't mean that our home isn't lived in.

It simply means that my house is cleaner than yours. 

Oriental

The following conversation occurred between me and a cashier at a local shop specializing in gently used clothing and furniture. *

Cashier: Your daughter is beautiful. What's her name?

Me: Thank you! This is Rory.

Rory (pointing to herself): "Ory."

Cashier (Ringing up Rory's new $6 REI down coat): Rory...that's interesting.

Me: Um, thanks. It's Irish.

Cashier: So, is she adopted or something?

Me: Uh, no. She just looks nothing like me. Her dad is Japanese.

Cashier: Oh, wow. You don't see very many mixed Oriental kids.

Me (grabbing my bag of "new to me" purchases): No, I guess you don't. And actually her dad is Brazilian.

Cashier: ...

Me: Nevermind. Have a good day.

My mixed Oriental kid making Brazilian brigadeiros. 

*Okay fine, we were at Goodwill. Again.

Why I'm Anal About Naptime

Yesterday I was painfully reminded of why I never go anywhere close to nap time. Rory recently transitioned to one nap a day, which means she sleeps from about 1230-200 on most afternoons. This makes planning our morning outings much easier, but also kind of tricky. If we happen to be driving anywhere after 11:30, it's pretty much a sure thing that she'll fall asleep in the car, and I've never been good at the car-crib transfer. 

It's our fault that Rory only naps well in her crib. At around 4 months it became apparent that she was out of the infant "I can sleep anywhere" phase. Sounds she used to be able to sleep through, like Marli barking or the washing machine running, began to wake her up. So, we started "sleep training", and she quickly became accustomed to a dark, quiet room, so now it's difficult for her to fall and stay asleep anywhere but her crib.

But yesterday I was feeling brave and decided to go to Costco after meeting a friend for coffee. Sure enough, Rory fell asleep on the way. Luckily she's still small enough to be in the infant carseat, so I was able to just put her into the shopping cart asleep, and I thought I was going to make it out of the store with a sleeping baby, but she woke up as soon as I started piling my things onto the conveyor belt. I tried putting her down again once we got home, but she was convinced that a 43 minute nap was all she needed for the day....which brings me to my point. (Finally.)

Forty-three minutes. From 6:30 am yesterday morning to 7:30 pm last night, I got exactly 43 minutes of peace and quiet. (Although dodging other carts in Costco while trying not to wake a sleeping baby is really anything but relaxing.) Forty-three minutes in thirteen hours. A mere three quarters of an hour that I didn't have to sing "The Wheels on the Bus", or pretend to be fascinated by yet another dead leaf, or calm a screaming toddler who is convinced I am hiding bananas in the pantry when really she ate the last one for breakfast.

And yes, I realize that these things are all in my job description as a stay-at-home-mom, and yes, I realize how fortunate I am to stay home with my daughter, but I want you to think for a minute about people who go to work in offices everyday. I believe an hour for a lunch break is standard. Well, that's 17 more minutes than I got yesterday. And then there's the commute to work. Assuming it's child free, do you know how much I would love a 30 minute solo commute to work everyday? That would mean 60 whole minutes of listening to whatever radio station I wanted. One hour I wouldn't have to hear Rory scream "Mama!" over and over again just for fun. I would give my right arm for one hour of mindless driving everyday. To better help those of you who are not mothers understand my point, imagine that your lunch break was suddenly taken away. Or better yet, imagine that you still had a lunch break, but you had to eat in a preschool classroom next to a child who wants to try everything you're eating, and then promptly spits it out. Back onto your plate. That's what it's like to be a SAHM with a kid who misses her nap.

Instead of a lunch break or a commute, moms get nap time. I believe that I speak for all moms when I say that we live and breath for nap time. Nap time is sacred. It is often the only break we get all day. It is when I check my email, browse Pinterest, eat lunch, do laundry, or watch crappy daytime TV. It is when I schedule doctor's appointments, clean the bathroom, and pay pills. Without nap time, my house would be disgusting, no one would have anything to wear, and I wouldn't know what Mila and Ashton named their baby.

So, please don't look at me like I'm a lunatic when I tell you that we can't meet you for lunch at noon because of Rory's nap schedule. And don't make me feel crazy for putting a sign on my door asking people not to ring the doorbell. Unless, of course, you want to come to my house and spend time with my daughter on a day when she has missed her nap. Once you're here, I'll be sure to take my hour lunch break.

A List of Things I Would Never Know if I Didn't Have a 14-Month-Old

1. A "sensory table" is really just another place to put your trash.

2. That I would ever consider this a masterpiece.

3. Minutes can seem like hours, but months can seem like days.

4. Sometimes you just need to dance. At the grocery store. In the cereal aisle. (Beyonce gets me every time, too.)

5. Hearing your child say "mama" can be both the sweetest and the most annoying sound in the world.

6. Unrolling a toilet paper roll is clearly more exciting than a room full of toys.

7. Never say the word "banana" after you've brushed your baby's teeth.

8. Choosing a few pictures from the past year to print and frame turns into a two hour event. Complete with laughter and tears.

9. It is possible (although perhaps not normal) for a 14-month-old to become infatuated with goats and gorillas. Thank God for youtube.

10. Zucchini and carrots belong on the floor.

She ate the berries, though. 

On Discipline

How is it possible that I'm already writing a blog post on discipline? Rory just turned 14 months old, and I'm already struggling with the idea of age-appropriate discipline. She's engaging in completely normal toddler behaviors: telling me "no", doing the exact thing I tell her not to, taking toys from other children, and throwing the occasional fit when she's tired/unhappy. I realize that at this age the best offense is a good defense (enough with the sport analogies!), meaning prevention is key. I don't take her anywhere within an hour of her naptime/bedtime, and I redirect when I notice her engaging in a potentially dangerous or inappropriate activity. But I know there will be times when this isn't possible, and so the time has come for Marcos and I to decide on a parenting/discipline philosophy that we feel good about. I checked out a few discipline books from the library, including Love and Logic and Positive Discipline, and just like all of the research I did concerning sleep training, I am taking bits and pieces from each philosophy and forming my own discipline style that meshes with our values and lifestyle.

One things is for certain: I will not spank or use any other form of physical punishment. I understand that some parents feel as though this is an effective form of discipline, and maybe it works for them, but I believe that the ultimate goal of any form of discipline is to promote self-control and build self-confidence so that children will grow up to make good choices and become productive members of society. The purpose of discipline is to teach, not to punish. I don't understand how hitting a child really teaches them a valuable lesson, other than you are someone who should be feared rather than respected. And hitting a child for hurting someone is the ultimate form of hypocrisy and really only communicates to your child that you've lost control and don't know how to handle the situation. I would be lying if I said that I didn't judge parents who spank just a little. 

Okay, we get it, you don't agree with spanking. So then how do you plan on disciplining your child? 

Yeah, I'm not entirely sure yet. 

Based on my reading and my experience working with young children, I know that effective discipline must be based on mutual respect. The old adage is true: You must give respect to get respect. You respect your friends and your coworkers and the checkout lady at the grocery store...why wouldn't you respect your own child? Respect means being honest and kind and empathetic. Respect doesn't mean rolling your eyes, tricking your child, or saying, "because I said so". All of this may sound obvious, but when you're frustrated and angry, using kind words can be a struggle. 

I believe in respect, but I also believe in tough love and boundaries. I think that you're doing your child a great disservice if you refuse to establish rules or execute consequences. Love and Logic is a great resource for "natural consequences". These are consequences that occur naturally as a result of a specific choice or behavior. If a child refuses to eat the dinner you made, allow them to go to bed hungry. They will naturally learn on their own that they must eat what you make or they will feel hungry and uncomfortable. (I don't sending a child to bed without dinner is in any way abusive because the child made the choice not to eat.) If a child cannot get ready for school in time, pack their clothes in a bag and put them in the car in their pajamas. Again, they will learn quickly that when you say "five more minutes", you mean it. For younger children, if they continue to hit the dog with a toy, you take the toy away.And the best part of instituting natural consequences is that it takes the thinking out of it for parents. You don't have to brainstorm creative punishments or resort to yelling. 

Of course, there are instances when natural consequences just won't work, and this is when things get tricky. What do I do when Rory runs out into the street after I've told her not to? The natural consequence for this behavior is not one I'm willing to let happen. Children are unpredictable, therefore it's pretty much impossible to be 100 percent prepared for every parenting situation you will find yourself in for the next 18 plus years. (Of course, there are some givens: drawing on the walls, climbing on furniture, burping at the dinner table...) I think the trick is to spend time thinking about what kind of parent you want to be and what kind of adults you want your children to become. Parenting and disciplining is like anything else...it takes a lot of practice to become an expert. Fortunately, children are very forgiving, if not forgetful.

Here are some points I think are important when it comes to disciplining:

• Speak in a calm voice. Children tend to tune out yelling and become defensive when their parents raise their voices. A calm voice communicates to your child that you have your emotions under control. (Even if you're fuming inside.

• Use timeout as an opportunity to reflect and gain control (for both parent and child) rather than a punishment. Ask your child: Would you like to take a break in your room?

• Provide children with opportunities to be in control as often as possible. Love and Logic is big on this concept. The theory behind it is that if children feel as though they are able to make choices, they won't resist being told what to do. (Choices can be as basic as: Would you like to wear the red shirt or the green? Would you like to go to bed now or in five minutes?)

• Don't make empty threats. How many of us remember our parents saying "If you don't stop fighting, I'm going to turn this car around!"? Did it ever happen? Of course not. And we knew it wouldn't. Instead, you can say something like, "I don't bring fighting children to the playground." This is something you can easily follow through with. 

• Make sure your discipline techniques are developmentally appropriate. You can't expect a 15 month old to clean up her toys without some help and guidance. (But you can certainly start practicing this skill as early as possible.) Rory still puts everything in her mouth, and it drives me crazy, but I understand that at her age it's how she learns about the world.

• Be prepared for your routine to be disrupted, especially in the beginning. Children will test you; it's both normal and healthy for them to do so. In fact, in the beginning stages of establishing your discipline routine, you almost want them to misbehave so that you can show them you mean business. If you go to the pool and they continue to run when you've told them they must walk, pack up and leave, even if you've only been there for five minutes. 

• It's okay to delay consequences. If you're not sure how to handle a situation or you're too angry to do it effectively and appropriately, tell your child that there will be a consequence and you'll discuss it later. 

• Involve your children in their own consequences. (This is another Love and Logic concept.) If you're child draws on the wall, you may say something like, "Oh no. Crayons are for paper only. How are you going to solve this problem?" If the child doesn't suggest something, you may say, "Would you like an idea? Mommy has a sponge and spray that can be used to clean it. I'll show you where it is." This communicate to children that they are smart enough to solve their own problems. 

• Shower your children with love, praise, and affection. Kids need to be touched and told how wonderful they are. Don't dish out praise for anything and everything, and use specific praise whenever possible, but if they did something well or you're proud of them, let them know. And I've never heard a parent say, "I wish I had hugged my children a little less."

It's hard to believe that this cutie could ever do anything wrong...

How to Avoid Mom Guilt

Every mom, whether she stays home or works full-time has felt her fair share of "mom guilt". You always feel like you could be doing more to stimulate their development (not that watching Real Housewives marathons isn't educational) or increase their exposure to music/literature/other cultures. Social media only increases our anxiety. Momblogs and websites like Pinterest have us asking ourselves questions like, "Should I be using gluten-free, organic ingredients to make my kids sandwiches that look like Frozen characters?" and "What the hell is a museum scavenger hunt?!"

But then I think back on my childhood, (full of Little Debbies and episodes of All My Children), and I realize that not every single second of every single day needs to be filled with meaningful learning experiences. It's okay (some would argue it's beneficial) for your child to be bored (gasp!) every once in a while so that you can do the dishes or call the cable guy, and your child can be left to her own devices. Have you ever heard the phrase, "boredom is the mother of invention"? (I'm still waiting for Rory to invent something useful.) Of course, I'm not suggesting you lock your baby in a room so that you can drink wine with the neighbor and shop online, but don't beat yourself up if you're not using baby flashcards or you've been dragging your baby around on errands all day. Stop feeling guilty that you're 15 month old doesn't know her letter sounds, and instead focus on enjoying being a mom. I've learned that anything can be turned into a learning opportunity, which is how I've (mostly) avoided mom guilt. Here are a few of my favorite ways to incorporate learning into our daily routine.

Talk to Your Kid
Let's start with the basics, people. My last few years of teaching, about 40% of my class saw the school SLP for some sort of speech/language disorder, and I am convinced that this alarming number is due to the fact that parents aren't talking to their children anymore. Harried lifestyles are mostly to blame. People are too busy to take the time to teach their children basic conversational skills. Young children spend way too much time in front of the TV or on electronic devices, which means they spend less time conversing. From the day we brought Rory home from the hospital, I vowed to talk to her as much as possible. Obviously we don't have deep conversations about her thoughts on immigration reform, but if she's next to me while I'm folding laundry, I name each item I'm folding and it's color. If I'm cooking in the kitchen, I describe to her what I'm doing and name the foods or utensils I'm using. Most of the time she just babbles back or listens, but lately she's been repeating many of my words. It's a simple thing that makes a big difference.

Taking selfies counts as quality time, right?

Red Light Nursery Rhymes
I remember reading in one of my early literacy books in college that if your child enters kindergarten and can recite at least three classic nursery rhymes, he or she is likely to be a successful reader. I believe the correlation is based on the fact that if your child is familiar with nursery rhymes, they were probably read to often from a young age, and we all know the benefits of reading to children from the time they are born. Plus, nursery rhymes have a rhythm and often rhyme, which introduces children to the concepts of phonemes and fluency. So, every time we're in the car and we stop at a red light, I make sure to recite a few nursery rhymes. (Baa Baa Black Sheep, Hickory Dickory Dock, Jack and Jill, etc.)

Spice Cabinets and Bathroom Drawers
Rory, like every other baby on this planet, loves going through cabinets and drawers. She is pretty much obsessed with the spice cabinet. She picks up each container, smells it, shakes it, and rolls it. She can't get enough. Most of the time I'm next to her while she explores the spices, so I'll take the lid off and let her smell it, and sometimes even taste it. (If it's safe.) Her other favorite storage spaces are our bathroom drawers. In the mornings while I get ready, or while I'm cleaning the bathroom, she opens the drawers, takes everything out, carefully examines each piece, and then hands it to me. (Thank you for this half-empty, travel-size shampoo bottle!) We haven't put child locks on many cabinets in the house. Instead, I make sure to fill the cabinets and drawers that are at her level with things that are safe for her to explore. It doesn't make a difference to me if she plays with the Tupperware lids or my make-up brushes, but she seems to enjoy it, and more importantly, exploring these random items is engaging all of her senses and helping her learn more about her world.

Hard at work organizing the spices.

Everyone has their own idea of fun...who am I to judge?

Just Say Yes
Once Rory became mobile, I found myself constantly redirecting or telling her "no". But when I reflected on why I was denying her access to things or activities she wanted, I realized that 75% of the time it wasn't for her safety, but rather because I just didn't feel like doing the requested activity. As I teacher I know that the best learning happens when children are interested and actively engaged, so why not take her cue and allow her to do what she wants as long as it doesn't pose any danger for herself or anyone else? Since having this epiphany, I've made an effort to say "yes" whenever possible. Sure, allowing her to feed herself applesauce is messier and more time consuming, but so what? Using a spoon helps with her hand-eye coordination as well as her self-confidence. Going outside and playing in the rocks when it's 35 degrees out may not be my idea of a good time, but Rory loves feeling the different textures and experimenting with how far she can throw them.
I'm not spoiling my child...I don't say "yes" to staying up late or eating cookies or climbing on the coffee table. Children are constantly being told what to do and how to behave; I imagine it must feel nice to be in control every once in awhile. And I've discovered that the more I say yes, the more powerful my "no" has become. When you're constantly saying no, it loses it's meaning and becomes background noise. I save my "no's" for times when we're running late or something isn't safe or I just really don't feel like singing the ABC song for the 30th time.

Taking a wagon ride in the snow obviously wasn't my idea.

When all else fails...read a book
There are times when all I want to do is turn on Baby Genius and get ten minutes of peace and quiet to check my email while Rory zones out to the sounds of children singing "Do You Know the Muffin Man", but I try to resist the urge and read her a book instead. Whenever I feel as though I've run out of options for entertaining her, I break out our latest stack of books from the library and read her a few books. Watching me read is helping Rory build a foundation for literacy success. She is learning that books contains pictures and words, that we read from left to right, and she's hearing new vocabulary. She loves to see other babies or book characters doing things she can relate to: playing at the park, eating different foods, or taking a bath. Reading is one of the primary ways that babies make connections. We read before nap time and bed time everyday, and usually several times in between. When she's had several reading sessions already, I don't feel so guilty about turning on the TV every once in a while.

Get on the Floor
No, I'm not talking about dancing. (Although Rory and I have been known to blast some T-Swift and dance around the house every once in awhile.) I'm talking about actively engaging your child in play. Get down on their level and roll a ball back and forth or build a Lego tower. Give them your undivided attention, make lots of eye contact, and allow them to choose which toys to play with. It can be tempting to take control and show them the "right" way to use something, but you'll both gain more from the experience if you allow them to experiment with various objects and make their own discoveries. Even if it's only for 15 minutes, put your phone away, get down on the floor and just play.

Best buds. 

A List of Places I've Found Cheerios in the Past Week

1. My shoe

2. Rory's diaper

3. The bathtub

4. Marli's food bowl

5. My bra

6. The vegetable drawer in the refrigerator 

What All (Honest) Moms are Thankful For

1. Crockpots

2. Coffee

3. Articles that say dragging your kids to the grocery store and Target is actually good for their language development.Who cares that it's from the Huffington Post and not actually research-based or that their first word might be "sale"? Down with mom guilt!

4. Him, him, and him.

5. Those nights when you seem to have misplaced (read:hid) Goodnight Moon and you are temporarily relieved from the monotonous task of saying goodnight to every effing thing in the room.

6. Empty spice bottles, make-up brushes, and any other random object that keeps your kid occupied for 30 seconds so you can pee in peace.

7. When baby cries for "dada". We all pretend it hurts our feelings, but really we are just grateful for the five minutes to ourselves while dada puts baby to bed/feeds them dinner/gives them a bath.

8. The fact that messy buns, flowy shirts, and boyfriend jeans are all in style right now.

9. Wine/Beer/Margaritas

10. Bedtime


Here are some pictures from our Thanksgiving weekend.

Rory waiting for dinner to be served.

We spent Thanksgiving with our friends Shannon and Simon and another family. We had a wonderful time.

Rory drawing with chalk outside of one of our favorite Denver hot spots: Park Burger. 

Playing in the backyard. 

Cheesin' for the camera in front of the Christmas tree. 

I'm Free!

Screw You, Wonder Week 55!

I'm If you're wondering why I haven't posted much in the last week, I present to you exhibit A:



Rory is about one week away from her first birthday, which means she is in the midst of her fussy period before her next developmental leap, occurring around week 55. I've posted about The Wonder Weeks before and how helpful it is when Rory seems to be regressing or extremely fussy because it helps me realize that there is a biological reason behind the craziness. Whenever I notice her exhibiting the three C's: crying, clinging, and crankiness, I do a quick google search, and without fail, she is in the middle of one of the fussy, "stormy" periods that signal the next big mental leap. There have been a few fussy periods that have made me want to pull her my hair out, but nothing like this one. It makes sense that this is the worst one. It is signaling the end of the baby stage and the beginning of the toddler one. She is beginning to walk, talk, and really notice how things work. Her brain is hard at work. But even though I know there's a logical reason for the way she's acting, I still want to curl up into a ball and sleep until this fussy period is over.

My mellow, good-natured baby has turned into a crying, clinging mess. She wakes up crying, goes to bed crying, and often sobs in between bites at meal times. (This is not an exaggeration.) She needs to be entertained and distracted constantly, and even when we're in the middle of a very engaging game of stack the blocks or throw the puzzle pieces, she randomly bursts into tears and throws her arms around my neck. It's all very Britney Spears circa 2007. (Minus the shaved head.)

In case that analogy didn't quite paint a picture for you, this morning, the only thing that made her happy content not cry was holding her dirty diaper.* I'm not kidding. She insisted on sitting in front of the TV and just holding her soiled diaper. And not even throwing it or trying to unsnap it...just holding it. I know, it's beyond ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as the fact that I LET HER. After my first attempt of prying the diaper out of her hands resulted in her throwing herself on the floor and writhing around like she was being exorcised, I let it go. The phrase "choose your battles" has a whole new meaning for me.

I feel like I have a small insight into the world of an abused housewife. Marcos and I have been walking around on eggshells these past few days. Any little thing can set her off and there's absolutely no warning. Yesterday I actually tiptoed behind her to go upstairs and brush my teeth once she was finally occupied with her board books. When I reached about the fourth step, it occurred to me that I'm terrified of my daughter. (Also, our stairs are squeaky.) On Saturday she threw a book in my face, but then became irrationally angry when I began to read it. I put it down and she cried harder. And then...out of nowhere she started laughing this deep belly laugh. It was psychotic.

The only thing keeping me going is knowing that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and once she's made it through this fussy period, I will be rewarded with a smarter, happier baby.

The 8th mental leap is known as the "World of Programs" this means that babies are beginning to understand activities that depend on what just happened, rather than patterns that repeat predictably. (Like the 7th mental leap, "World of Sequences".) This is definitely Rory right now. Her new favorite activity is dropping things down the stairs and watching them fall. She loves watching me do things around the house and has begun mimicking everything, from putting on my shoes to cleaning the floor with the dish towel.

According to "The Wonder Weeks" by Rijt and Plooij ...

Signs of week 55 include: 

Spontaneous temper tantrums (Check)

Needs to be entertained more often (Check)

Cries more, and is cranky, moody, and grumpy (Triple check)

Loss of appetite (The only thing this kid will eat are veggie sticks. And don't let the name fool you, these things have zero nutritional value.)

Difficulty sleeping
May reach for a comfort object more often
Baby may be more mischievous (She threw my shoe down the stairs yesterday, so I gave her my best stern look and told her "no". She laughed in my face.)

New abilities after the leap include: 

Comes to you with jacket because he wants to go out

Tries to dress herself

Pretends to bathe a doll or drive a car

(I understand her mind as at work and is making important connections, but that seems like a lot of crap to go through just for her to attempt putting on her own pants. Just saying.)

So, if you were wondering why I haven't been posting, or if you see my picture on a missing persons poster, you know why.

*It was just wet. 

Parenthood: The Definition of Teamwork

I've never been a fan of anything requiring a group effort. I never played any team sports (or any sports for that matter) and I definitely wasn't a member of Girl Scouts or any other type of group organization. I was involved in academic competitions, but only individual ones. I was the kid in school who groaned every time a teacher assigned a group project. It's not that I'm antisocial or I couldn't get along with my peers, it's just that I always ended up doing all of the work. But not because my fellow group members didn't want to help, it's just that my 16 year-old self was convinced that nobody could do the work as well as she could. So, I would assign the cheerleader/goth/jock the task of making the poster with bubble letters while I did all of the actual research and report-writing.

This "I can do it all on my own" mentality lasted approximately 28 years...or until November 7th, 2013, the day Rory was born. Marcos and I attended twelve weeks of Bradley Method classes to prepare for Rory's birth. The Bradley Method is also referred to as husband-coached child birth, but I secretly openly laughed at this phrase. Men have no idea what childbirth is like, and even though this is no fault of their own, that's like asking someone who's never played football to coach the Broncos. And I'm sorry, but the last thing I want when I'm in pain and trying to push a small human out of my vagina is for my husband (the one who got me into this situation in the first place) whispering words of encouragement in my ear or rubbing my back in between contractions. Don't talk to me, and definitely don't touch me. Fortunately, Marcos understood his role in husband-coached child birth: stay at least two feet away from me and don't say a word. I have to say, he played the part brilliantly. Honestly, I wish we still lived in the era when the men would stay in the waiting room smoking cigars and then a few hours (or God forbid, days) a baby would magically appear.

So, up until the second that Rory was actually born, I held  on to the belief that I could do everything myself. But after giving birth, I was mentally and physically exhausted. I could barely walk, let alone care for a newborn on my own. I realized quickly that accepting help was imperative for both Rory and my's survival. When Marcos offered to change Rory's diaper or give her a bottle so that I could have a break, I was more than happy to hand her over. Over the next few weeks, it dawned on me that parenthood is the very definition of team work. To keep the football metaphor going, every day is spent passing the football (Rory) back and forth and analyzing the playbook to determine the best play for every situation.

You hold her while I eat, and then we'll switch. 

I'll put her down for her nap while you do laundry.

Would you rather do the dishes or give her a bath?

I'll hold her legs while you distract her so the doctor can give her the shot. 

I'll drink these three margaritas and you wake up with her at 5 am. 

And just like football players specialize in certain positions, each parent has his or her own strengths as well. I'm the only one who can cut Rory's nails, but Marcos can get her to eat every last bite of her dinner. Parenting is hard work, and not something that anyone should have to do alone. It's true that it takes a village to raise a child. Marcos isn't the only one who helps me on the field. (Okay, that one was a stretch, but I'm nothing if not consistent.) I have lots of teammates: my neighbors, friends, and that random guy who offered to hold Rory while I cleaned the grocery cart. Everyone has something to offer if you let them help.

It took me almost thirty years, but I'm glad that I finally realized that I can't do it all by myself. And I'm beyond grateful to have such great teammates by my side. I don't want to brag or anything, but I bet if we were a real football team we would win the World Series.

Things I Would Never Know if I Didn't Have An Almost-One-Year-Old

1. Babies and drunk sorority girls have the exact same walk.

2. Tomato sauce is pretty much impossible to get out of carpet.

3. The human body does not digest kiwi seeds.

4. Fake sneezes never stop being funny.

5. There is nothing more fun than taking books off the library shelf.

6. And there is nothing worse than the nursery at Southridge Rec Center.

7. The Nose Frida snot sucker is the best invention ever.

8. Anything with 4 legs is a "doggy".

9. Bibs are made to be torn off and thrown on the floor.

10. Always put the stroller brake on. Always. Especially if you're at the top of a slight hill and it happens to be a windy day.

How I Know It's Four O' Clock (A Photo Essay)

(Let's just say this isn't the only toilet paper roll in the house that looks like this.)

Disappointed husband not pictured. 

The Weight of the World

When Rory was born my anxiety hit an all time high. I was running on very little sleep and it suddenly hit me that I was now responsible for keeping another human being alive and well. Almost a year has passed since she was placed in my arms for the first time, and though I am no longer sleep deprived, I am still as worried and anxious as the day she was born. As Rory grows and changes, so do my worries.

Our world is a scary place, and it may sound strange, but it wasn't until Rory was born that I understood why some people don't want children. And not because I regretted for a single second our decision to have a child, but because of the enormous pressure and anxiety that comes with bringing a child into the world. There are days, and sometimes whole weeks when I have this constant ache in my chest because I can't  stop thinking about every little thing that can go wrong.There are the normal, everyday worries: Am I doing enough to stimulate my child's brain development? Is my baby eating enough? When should she go down to just one nap a day?
And then there are the bigger, scarier questions that some people are lucky enough to be able to push towards the back of their minds: What if my baby gets cancer? What if I get cancer and my baby grows up without a mother? What if she's allergic to bees and I don't know it? Will she be bullied? Or worse, will she be a bully? Will she be one of the 2 in 5 people who is sexually abused as a child?

Social media and the news do little to relieve my fears. There's Ebola and child abductions and planes disappearing. There's the story of the mom who forego chemo to save her baby, and the little girl who was found 20 miles from where I live cut up into pieces by a 17 year old stranger who lived in her neighborhood. I remember watching a Dutch man being interviewed after the Malaysia flight was shot down over Ukraine. His only daughter was on that flight, and I remember he said, "Whoever shot that plane down, they ruined my life." By the end of the interview, I had tears streaming down my face, because every parent's worst nightmare is burying their child. Sometimes I just want to cross my arms, stomp my foot and scream, "It's not fair!" Why do such bad things have to happen to good people, and why do bad people get away with such awful things?

On an intellectual level I know that worrying about things like autism and car accidents does nothing to prevent them from happening, but I can't seem to stop myself from viewing the world through a mother's eyes. I have this beautiful, healthy, perfect baby, and all I can think about is that she could be taken from me in less time than it takes to switch lanes on the highway or close the gate at the top of the stairs. We like to think of ourselves as invincible, but human life is fragile.

My point is that being a mother is harder than I ever imagined it would be. I knew waking up in the middle of the night and no longer having any time to myself would be difficult, but I didn't understand the emotional weight that I would gain the day that Rory was born.  Is it worth it? Absolutely. Without a doubt. The joys of motherhood far outweigh the challenges, but becoming a mother made me realize that it's possible to love someone so much it physically hurts. It has made me painfully aware of all of the evil that exists in this world.

But being a mom has also made me see joy in the smallest of things. A first step. The shriek of joy that always accompanies bath time. The butterfly that landed on Rory's shoulder yesterday. So, with unimaginable pain comes unattainable joy. That's the way the world works, because without pain and heartache, we wouldn't know what it means to be truly happy...what it means to be a mother.

A List of Things Rory Called Daddy Today

1. My toothbrush

2. A book

3. Matt Lauer

4. The bathroom door

5. A scarecrow at Hobby Lobby

6. The librarian (To be fair, she was Asian.)

7. Her bath toy

We Have a Talker!

Rory said her first word a few weeks ago, and now has a total of three words in her vocabulary: daddy, doggy, and pula. Pula is the Portuguese word for "jump", and we owe this word to my favorite Brazilian, Xuxa.

It started with the word "daddy", and I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't a little bitter that her first word wasn't "mommy" or "mama". (Those of you who know me would never believe me anyway.) I mean, I'm the one who gave birth to her-without drugs. I'm the one who changes 85% of her diapers, and I'm the one who uses my shirt to wipe her nose when she sneezes at the park (her daddy just looks at her in disgust), but I don't mind that "mommy" wasn't her first word. Or her second, or even her third. Nope, not bitter at all.

So, even though I was a little perturbed that "daddy" was her first word, I quickly got over it...And not because I'm the bigger person (obviously), but because I discovered that it actually benefits me. You see, we Marcos made a reeeaaalllly big deal out of it the first time she said "daddy"(it was quite embarrassing, now that I think about it), so of course now she says it all the time. Everyone and everything is "daddy". So, naturally, when she wakes up at 5 am, the first thing she says is "daddy!". And naturally, Marcos and I both pretend not to hear her talking through the monitor. (It's like a parental version of  the game "chicken".)

"Daaaadddy! DADDY!" 

And this is when I roll over, nudge Marcos awake, and say, "she's calling for you, daddy". Karma is a beautiful thing, my friends.

This picture has nothing to do with her first words...I just think it's hilarious. Talk about perfect toy placement. 

Random Updates

I know all three of my readers haven't been able to sleep because they spend their nights wondering what we're up to in the Fukumoto household. I decided to end their senseless torture and tie up some loose ends.

1. Capsule Wardrobe

I'm going to be honest here...I started out with the best of intentions, but I've reverted back to old habits, and on most days, I reach for my yoga pants or norts. Maybe when Rory isn't constantly getting into things she shouldn't be, and I'm not crawling after her in the sandbox, it may make more sense to wear nicer clothes, but for now, loose, comfortable clothing just makes sense. I am making more of an effort on weekends, and the idea of a capsule wardrobe has helped me in other ways. I've cleaned out my closet, identified my "uniform", and I find it easier to resist impulse purchases. It also prevented me from overpacking for San Francisco. I used all but one of the clothing items I brought because I thought in terms of outfits rather than individual pieces. I still plan on creating a fall capsule wardrobe because I like the idea of condensing my clothing and focusing on versatile pieces that make sense for the upcoming season and my lifestyle. My friend, Karla, has done an awesome job with her CW. She posts her outfits on Instagram daily...and she has two boys under the age of five, so I really have no excuse. Perhaps I need to post my outfits on my blog...a little accountability goes a long way. Or so I've been told.

2. The Basement

Our basement is finally finished...after 7 long weeks. The original estimate for completion was three weeks, but when do contractors ever finish on time? Marcos and I decided to paint the room ourselves in order to save some money, and if we had to do it again, I'm pretty sure we would have happily shelled out the dough. It was a long, tedious process made even longer by the fact that we have a 10 month old. This means that we could only paint during nap times and when she was in bed for the night. It seemed like it would never end. But, of course, it did end, and now we are enjoying the extra space. It's one big room, but we designated one half as a TV/movie watching area and the other half as Rory's play space. We also plan to put visitors down here where it's quiet and cool and there isn't a baby in the next room who makes up before it's light outside.

3. Feeding/Breastfeeding

Several people have commented on what a good eater Rory is. She pretty much eats whatever we put in front of her. (And whatever she finds on the floor.) I'm sure that will change and there will come a day when she refuses to eat anything except chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese. But for now, she is into hummus, mushroom risotto, vegetarian Shepard's pie, you name it. She pretty much feeds herself at this point, but I do spoon feed her yogurt and oatmeal.

Ahhh....breastfeeding. My struggle with BF was one of the reasons I started this blog in the first place, but Rory and I have come a long way. I have to admit, I never really grew to love it...but I did grow not to hate it. (If that's not a ringing endorsement for breastfeeding, I don't know what is.) Rory is now feeding twice a day, once in the morning, and once at night. I plan to go down to just the nighttime feeding in a few weeks, and hopefully she will be completely weaned by one year. I've tried giving her some whole milk to replace her midday feedings, but she's not a fan. So, I use it in her oatmeal instead. I worry about her getting enough vitamins and nutrients, and I know a lot of people would say that twice a day isn't enough for a 10.5 month old, but it's working for us. And if there's anything I've learned from this whole BF process, it's that you can't listen to other people. You have to do what's right for you and your baby.



4. Cloth Diapers

We ended up getting a new washer a few months ago because our old one wasn't agitating...which is important. I love our new front load washer, and it's been great for CD, but lately her diapers have been reeking of ammonia. (Once they've been sitting in her pail for a few hours.) I spoke to several friends and called our local CD store to ask for some advice, and I came to the following conclusions.

1. The ammonia smell may be the result of too much detergent (build up)
2. ...Or it may be the result of too little detergent
3. My HE washer may not be using enough water to wash the dipes
4. I may need to do more rinses
5. I may need to strip my diapers
6. I may need to change my wash routine
7. I may need to wash my diapers more often

Notice how there's a whole lot of maybes? This whole CD thing is all trial and error. One of my friends suggested using Funk Rock Ammonia Bouncer, so I've been using two tablespoons in the prewash cycle, and that seems to be helping. I didn't realize that I should only be using half a scoop of the recommended amount of detergent, so I'm almost positive the ammonia is a result of build up rather than too little detergent. I really wanted to avoid using bleach to strip my diapers, but the smell isn't 100% gone, so I may have to bite the bullet. I don't mind doing a few extra rinses, but one of the main reasons I use CD is to save water/money, and if I'm rinsing my cloth diapers five times every other day, that seems to defeat the purpose. After doing some research and going back to the drawing board, my new wash routine is as follows:

Quick wash with two tablespoons of Funk Rock (warm)
Normal wash with half a scoop of Country Save detergent and an extra rinse (hot)

If the smell gets any worse, I will try to add more rinses or strip with bleach. I've also gotten better about washing every other day, and I think that's been helping. Three days is too long to go without washing. The nice woman from the store who tried helping me over the phone also suggested that I put a towel in with my diapers to trick the washer into using more water.




5. Sleep

Rory has been sleeping through the night since 6.5 months, and I couldn't be more relieved. Sleep deprivation was by far the hardest part about being a new parent. From about 4 to 6 months she was only waking up once a night, which wasn't bad, but sometimes it would take me hours to fall back asleep. Rory's naps are also much better. She naps twice a day, for a total of about 3 hours. Her naps range anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours, but as long as she wakes up happy, I don't stress about it. Looking back on how obsessed concerned I was about her sleep habits, I realize how much time and energy I wasted worrying about her short naps and her midnight feedings. Sleeping through the night and condensed daytime sleep are developmental milestones. You can't rush it...it happens when they're ready. I have several friends with babies who are Rory's age, and their sleep habits are across the board. Some have been sleeping through the night since a few months, and some are still waking up for a feeding. Some take three naps, and some are already down to one. One think I know for sure is that I won't worry so much with baby number 2...mostly because I have no choice but to be more easy-going with two children, but also because I know now that all phases, good or bad, come to an end.

Our First Trip With Baby

We spent all of last week in San Francisco visiting Rory's godfather, Paulo. Marcos had the opportunity to do a work training in SF, and we decided to join him and take a mini-vacation. Turns out, traveling with a baby, even if it's to someplace exotic like Figi, does not equal a vacation.

The night before we left I had so much anxiety about the trip that I had trouble falling asleep. 

What if she cries on the plane?

What if we forget something important?

What if she doesn't nap or sleep through the night?

What if they lose our luggage?

What if she cuts a tooth?
What if I'm attacked by liberals?

I wasted a lot of energy worrying because there were no major issues. Rory slept about an hour on the plane each way and played with the emergency instruction card for the remainder of the flight. Once we landed, we had to ride the BART for about 45 minutes and then take a taxi to Paulo's apartment. Considering the fact that she woke up earlier than usual and had a short nap, Rory was a champ. I'm not saying it was easy, but it wasn't a nightmare. 

Paulo has a one-bedroom apartment on the third floor of a walk-up building in the Marina district of San Francisco. It's a beautiful area with lots to do within walking distance. Rory and I were pretty much on our own for most of the day because Paulo and Marcos were working from the apartment. We walked to get coffee, did some shopping, and played at a local park. In the afternoons we would walk to the water where Rory pointed to every seagull she saw. 

Naptime was a little tricky at first. Rory is used to napping in a dark room and her sound machine, so she had trouble falling asleep in the bedroom. Once we noticed that Paulo's closet was much darker, we put her crib in there, and she fell asleep much faster. (It's a big closet.) Paulo doesn't have any children, but he will be much better prepared now when that day comes, thanks to Rory. He quickly learned that his shot glass collection will need to be stored somewhere high and even things like window blind cords are hazardous. I can only imagine the sigh of relief he let out when we drove away from his apartment towards the San Francisco airport. 

We were also able to go out one night because Paulo's girlfriend arranged to have a babysitter come and stay with Rory after we put her to sleep. It was nice to go out sans-baby, but when your daughter wakes up at 5:30 am, you can't really go too crazy. (Translation: one vodka soda and half a Bud Light) Mostly, I just felt old. Also, I realized I need to listen to the radio more. The only songs I recognized were from circa 2002. Our last trip to San Francisco involved 6  hours of bar hopping...the details of which I'm still trying to piece together. A lot has changed in two years. 

San Francisco is a beautiful place. I already can't wait to go back. Rory experienced lots of firsts during this trip: first airplane ride, first subway ride, first taxi ride, first time in a different state, first time seeing the ocean. Of course, it felt good to come home and sleep in our own bed, but I miss the hustle and bustle of the city and being able to walk to the ocean. Here are some snapshots from our week in San Fran; 

Rory's first plane ride.

Almond croissant. Pretty much the best thing I've ever tasted. 

Playing at the Apple store. 

We didn't bring many toys with us, but Tio Paulo also has a Tupperware cabinet, so Rory was all set.

The Golden Gate Bridge from Paulo's apartment. Must be tough to work from home when you have this view. 

Rory's nap space. 

Rory and Paulo. 

Swinging at the park. 

Watching the seals at Fisherman's Wharf. 

The ocean. 

Family shot. 

The day after we returned home. This is what happens when you mess with a baby's schedule.

You Know You're a Mom When...

Your kitchen looks like this 75% of the time. What is it about plastic food containers that children find so appealing??

What's in a Name?

One of my oldest and best friends just found out she's having a girl, and I couldn't be more excited for her. We chatted about all things baby on the phone last week, and the conversation inevitably turned to names. It seems she and her husband are having difficulty agreeing on a name, and this is all too common. Fortunately, Marcos didn't really have an opinion. I don't think he offered a single name, but he vetoed plenty. There's a lot of pressure when it comes to naming a little human. I mean, we don't get to choose our names, yet we're stuck with them for the rest of our lives. You want the name to be a little unique, but not so unique that no one can pronounce it. My sister goes by her middle name, McGuinn, a beautiful family name, but not one that the average Starbucks barista can spell without some help. Choosing a name is not something to be taken lightly, and that's why there are a few basic rules to consider when naming your daughter or son.

1. The name should mean something. 

There doesn't necessarily need to be an elaborate story behind your child's name, but there will come a day when your son or daughter asks you about the meaning of his or her name, and you probably want to have a better answer than, "We closed our eyes and randomly chose a name in our baby name book". As a kindergarten and first grade teacher, one of my first day of school activities each year consisted of reading the book "Chrysanthemum" by Kevin Henkes and discussing the meaning behind all of our own names. The students' "homework" for the day was to ask their parents about the story behind their names, and the next day everyone would share what they had learned. Some of them were meaningful, but most of them were pretty lame. Imagine that your child's future teacher will do this same activity. What would you want them telling their classmates?

2. Consider family names and heritage. 

When all else fails, check your family tree. You may be pleasantly surprised at some of the names you will find when you go back a few generations. Many people name their children after special people in their lives, and I don't think there's any greater honor on earth. Rory's middle name, Keiko, is Marcos' mom's name. Not only do I love the name, but his mother is also a very kind, smart, and hard-working woman, who I would love for Rory to take after one day. Rory's first name is a nod to my Irish heritage. I figured if she wasn't going to look like me, she could at least have an Irish name. (Also I love Gilmore Girls.)

3. Think about the future. 

Bear may be a cute name for a toddler, but not so much for a 25-year-old trying to move up in the corporate world. Your baby will have whatever name you choose for the rest of his or her life...driver's licenses, passports, job applications. There's a study that found that kids with "normal", classic names (think Joe, Sarah, etc.) spend their lives trying to stand out, while people with obscure, strange names are constantly trying to blend in. (Lady Gaga's real name is Stephanie. Think about it, people.) Our last name is Fukumoto, so Rory will forever be saddled with a horrible/awesome (horribly awesome?)  surname. The least we could do is give her a somewhat normal first name.

4. Consider ALL possible nicknames. 

One of the families I babysat in Dallas told me once that they considered naming their son Porter, but then realized that Portly Porter would be a terrible nickname if he happened to be a little on the chubby side. They went with Beckam instead. Tucker is cute, until you think about what it rhymes with. Also, write down your child's initials. You don't want to get home from the hospital and realize that your son's or daughter's initials spell out something horrific like KKK or IBS.

5. Check out the name popularity lists. 

I think it's always a good idea to see a list of the year's most popular names before deciding on your baby's moniker. You don't want your child to be one of five "Isabellas" when they enter kindergarten. This isn't always a sure thing, though. My good friend Karla named her son "Lincoln", a name that was virtually unheard of a few years ago, but one that is steadily gaining popularity. Kristen Bell and Dax Shepherd even named their first daughter Lincoln. The point is, you never now. Rory is pretty unique now, but in a few years, it could be in the top 10 list of names. Or maybe you want your child to have a more common name. Two of my good friends had babies in the last year. One named her son Noah, and the other named her daughter Olivia, both of which are in the top 10 names for 2014, but both are beautiful names that fit their babies well.

6. Look anywhere and everywhere for inspiration. 

I think baby name books are the absolute worst resource for baby names. They are incredibly over-whelming, and not very inspiring. When I was pregnant with Rory, I kept an ongoing list of names on my phone, and every time I heard a name I liked, I would add it to the list. I would later run it by Marcos, and if he vetoed it or I discovered later that there was a serial killer with the same name (true story), I would cross it off the list. I found names in the oddest of places: Novels I was reading, movie credits, and eavesdropping on random people's conversations. All you have to do is go to a park on any given day, sit on a bench, and listen to the mom's call after their children. (Warning: you may look slightly creepy. Bring a book or something.)

7. Bring a short list of names to the hospital. 

I went out to dinner with my friend a few nights ago, and she made the comment that she doesn't feel as though she can name someone she hasn't met yet. She wants to hold her baby and see her before deciding on her name. I totally respect this, and think there is some truth to this. If you feel this way, just make sure you have a short list of names ready, or you may end up choosing a name you don't really love  or leaving the hospital with an unnamed baby. I'm pretty sure this is frowned upon.

8. Say the name out loud. 

It might look good on paper or sound good in your head, but it's important to say the name aloud. Some first or middle names may not sound great with your last name. (Ahem...Fukumoto.) Or perhaps when you say the full name quickly, it morphs into something else. My cousin's daughter's name is "Lily Claire", and I remember my cousin making the comment that when she hears the name spoken quickly, it sometimes sounds like "Lil' eclair". Not that there's anything wrong with this. Eclairs are delicious.


The only other Rory's I know...

Rory McIlroy

Rory Gilmore 

And for your reading pleasure, a list of awful celebrity baby names: (Seriously... Tu Morrow?!)

http://www.babble.com/celebrity/33-worst-celebrity-baby-names/