Mommies with Style Articles

When I was in high school and college, I used to keep every assignment, every appointment I had, every test I had to take, in my head. I had no need for a day planner as I never forget anything.

Today, I forget everything. I can't even remember where I PUT my day planner, let alone remember what may be written in it. I have THE classic case of Mommy Brain.

I want to know when this happened and if it will end. When will this slippery spiral towards continued flakiness end? When did it start? If it continues at this rate, I feel like I won't even remember my own name by the end of the year. Does it get better?

Although, I can still recite all 50 US States in alphabetical order - that's something, right?

Posted by Whitney at 04:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I made an important decision last night. It was about time that I started loving this baby. At 8 weeks pregnant, I've done nothing but complain and worry: I'm sick all the time. I'm exhausted. I'm old. I've been there, done that. How could we actually be pregnant? We hadn't even decided we wanted to be pregnant. My boobs hurt. My skin itches. I'm nauceous.

Of course, it didn't help that my husband remains in total denial. He's only spoken semi-openly about this baby once. And that was at a party, after a few beers, and it was filled with complaints. Otherwise, he's keeping quiet. Refraining from discussion. It took until I was 6 weeks along for him to even learn the due date. He claims, in fact, that he'll believe there's a baby only after he sees it (and so he is required to attend our ultrasound on June 17. Its mandatory, honey.) And in his humor, he's mentioned more than one time that he "questions my ability to take a test."

Still. We're having this baby. This little thing who is "about the size of a kidney bean." Its ours. And while our families may not know about it yet, or most of our friends, its about time I started loving it.

And so, last night, I ventured over to the old "I'm pregnant, now what!?" resources. Signed on to Baby Center and pulled out my now ancient edition of Your Pregnancy Week by Week. And you know what? My baby's webbed fingers and toes are starting to pop out. Its organs haven't been established enough to determine the gender, but its nerve cells in the brain are branching and connecting and the breathing tubes are expanding. My baby is my baby. This little thing that in 32 weeks will be in my arms, attracting the love of all who glance. Carving a niche in my heart.

And so today, through the itches, the nausea, the exhaustion and the questions, I put my hand on my belly and feel warmth. Feel love. And tonight, I'm annoucing that its about time baby's daddy start loving this baby.

Posted by firsttrimestermom at 07:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

My older son has recently started drop-off playdates. It hasn't caused much of a complaint on either of our parts--he gets to explore another basement or back yard, or is completely distracted with a guest who would love to play hide and seek for an hour straight. And I get an hour or two free from the whinings of “Mooom… play with me” when, really, I’d much rather fold laundry than play Candyland for the eighth time that week.

Of course, my younger son isn't loving it so much. Trying to keep up, he finds the simpler hiding spots and is always found right away (what 2-year-old doesn't giggle when he hides?) The best of the friends are the ones that include him. It makes it easier all around. And when we’re lucky, he feels like it’s really his playdate, too. Before long, Carson’s friend is suddenly Wesley’s friend.

I've been impressed with the variety of playdates we've had. Some moms, like me, simply say "go! play!" Others prepare smorgasbord of activities. Others would rather pop in a movie or two for the kids.

And its the variety about playdates that I love so much. He'll come home from Joey's house having sampled hummus and pitas, grapefruit or a tuna salad. He'll tell me all about Cam's collection of bugs and Aaron's amazing super slide. Last week, Carson came home with a jar of sandart—something I never thought of as a playdate activity before. Here, they often play superkids--wearing capes and shooting off rockets to save the day or playing superhero hide and seek. No matter what they do, they're having fun. They'll collectively use their minds to explore things neither child has explored in the past. Or they'll introduce personal favorites. The kids learn to work with each other. To listen to differing opinions and interest. To take turns.

I find I’m refereeing less squabbles and, as I pull myself away from the job of entertainer, I’m noticing a sense of independence that I wasn’t so sure existed in my 4 year old.

How have playdates changed your experiences with your children? Tell us what you’ve learned and share your playdate activities.

Posted by Julie at 02:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Someone needs to smack me over the head. Hard. I seriously can not stop playing our Wii. It started innocently enough: A few months ago, I bought a Wii for the family. Friends had brought theirs over and after one night of playing, we were all hooked.

Since then, we've been playing various games. I discovered the whole GameStop/used games thing (you have 7 days to "test" out a used game and bring it back if you don't like it) and have found some great games that the kids, hubby and I love. At first it was great because it was a fun family activity. Nate (4) and hubby would play each other in tennis once in awhile. Then we got a Diego game and Nate started getting comfortable with the remote. We have various Mario and Spiderman games now, and we recently bought the latest Mario Kart Wheel game (the remote goes into a "wheel" and you drive).

And here's the thing - Nate loves to watch us play. So lately he's been asking me to play while he watches and I kind of like it! I have fun and he's always shouting out words of encouragement "you go, Mom!" (seriously) Or, "great one, Mom!" Even Cole (18 months) enjoys it - he makes excited noises when we turn the Wii on.

The latter of which was probably the wake up call I needed. Okay, is it really normal (and healthy) for my 18 month old to clap and get so excited over a game system turning on?

I'm definitely aware that we have to tone it down a little. It's a fun thing that we all love and bond over, but there's definitely a fine line between having a little fun and becoming a couch potato playing too many games. So when does it get to be too much? Am I a bad Mom for introducing my kids to a game system they otherwise would have known nothing about?

Posted by Whitney at 04:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)