Lessons from the original Superman

Father's day is always a fickle time for me.  Today marks 30 years since the last Father's day I spent with Sarge.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  It was the first time I was able to "purchase" a father's day breakfast for him.  McDonald's had a promotion that year if you colored a sheet that was provided by them and took it in for Father's day, your dad would get a free breakfast.  I didn't know it, but that would be the last time I would spend a Father's day with my dad.  Five months later, just 2 months shy of my 13th birthday, he was gone. 

I have been without him longer than he was with me. Still he has been a powerful influence in my life. His words and actions have permeated me for the remaining years I have been without him. His words float over my head in everything I do and say to others.  Today as in everyday I honor the Superman he was to me. 

Little lessons he left me with:

• Love thy neighbor - Sarge was the neighborhood guy.  Someone needed a tool, he would be the guy to come and borrow one from.  If your car broke down in the middle of a delluge of rain, he was the person you called. Not only would he give you a ride but  he would try to fix that car or get you the help you needed.  The day of his funeral I met so many people that were touched by all the things I never knew he did.  He was a giving person who loved humanity.  No one was ever more or less than him, we were all of the human kind and we should all help each other in this world. So when I lose my patience in Los Angeles traffic I remember, we are all human and we all need to look out for one another. 
• Appreciate the simple things - Music was always blaring on any given day at our home.  Sarge would play anything from classical music, swing, to Mariachis.  He would sing to his heart content without abandonment, even though his voice was that of nails on a chalkboard.  Simple outings were the catalyst to "great adventures" as he would call it.  So it was no surprise I was excited when he took me to the city of Corona for an adventure to seek out a great doughnut. Who cares if it just a few miles from our city, it was somewhere new we had never been.  It was his appreciation of the simple joy in life that has gotten me through some rough times.  Seeking out that hole in the wall cafe and people watching has brought me to a calm place where I could think things through.  Listening to a favorite song can take me back in time to a wonderful place when things were calm and fun.
• Laugh at yourself -  Sarge was the original dork. Never afraid to make a fool of himself and laugh along the way.  He made sure I never took myself or life to seriously.  I would get in funks as a child and some how he always managed to make me laugh at his antics.  He would point out the great humor in things, even if it was the crappiest day ever.  So now, I manage to look at life and see the humor in things.  It makes me smile and I can be the same goofball my dad was to me with my children and see the smile I had as a child being reflected back at me through the kids.
• Never forget your history - I never knew my grandparents, they were gone before I was born but I definitely knew about them.  Sarge never failed to take me on his lap to tell me of things when he was growing up, about how his family life was with his parents.  He took me to Mexico to meet my extended family to develop a relationship with those who carried our history. He wanted me to grow up proud of how far our family has come and how far I could take the rest of our history.  One of the major reasons I blog about my children and myself is to carry on that rich tradition.  Much is to be said about storytelling.  You never know what lessons you are learning from your own rich family history.  
• Get up and succeed - He picked me off the floor after I fell off a bike, cleaned up my scrape and placed me back on the bike I had just fallen off.  Giving up was not an option.  I was crying my eyes out and wanting to give up, but Sarge encouraged me.  Every step of the way he was there to cheer me on.  Little successes where HUGE accomplishments. He made sure I understood that no matter if I had an audience or not. I was the master of my own pride with all those accomplishements.  So when I was able to do the major things in life like graduate from college or simply help potty train a two year old I could stand with pride and never give up.

There are so many more that I can list but these in particular have helped me get through the good, the bad, and ugly that life has out there.  All he did for me in the short 12 years of my life has stayed with me.  It's not about time that you spend with your children, it's what you do in whatever time you have with them. 

For the men who create those strong bonds with their children I salute you.  You never know what your teaching your little ones and what life lessons they are learning along the way. 

Feliz dia del padre Papi.  Te extrano muchismo! <3>

The Original Super Single Mom

Life lately has been tough.  Something I did not think I would be doing is raising children on my own.  While there father is a participant in their lives, it really is not like I can say I have a partner in raising these children.  I find myself giving 99.999999% of what should really be a shared experience. I have wrestled a very long time with this fact.  I attribute this to my own childhood.  Sarge was always a very active participant father and most loving partner in my childhood.  I was truly blessed to have two parents in the early part of my life. Lately my lovely insomnia has hit me at 3 AM.  Somewhere in my mind something was stirring, maybe the fact that some days I feel stretched over two times over, worried about Kindergarten progress, summer vacation plans, how to effectively get help for getting the kids around.  I have felt pretty alone and overwhelmed lately.  Then it hit me the other day.  I am not the only one this has happened to.

October 9, 1983 Mami became a single mother and a widow.  I remember sitting next to her holding my hand just outside the IC unit that my father was in when a nurse came out to call someone else in the hallway.  This moment is burned in my memory only because the nurse had blood, my fathers blood all on the front of her crisp white scrubs.  Mami pulled me in close and tried to shield my fragile 12 year old eyes from seeing what I was seeing.  In her arms I shook with fear.  We both held each other for what seemed like a very long time until the doctor came out and said my father was gone.  Our world as we knew it was gone. 

I still remember listening to Mami cry night after night after he was gone.  Somehow in the mornings all that was gone and she got breakfast on the table and me out the door to school.  While I was at school she managed to arrange for a funeral, my care after school, and make other arrangements for our future. Mami became my advocate when people insisted that I wear black to the funeral when she knew all I wanted to do was wear my dad's favorite dress for me.  She didn't know I heard that argument she had, but I did.  I became less alone at that moment.  Mami would always have my best interest at heart.  She knew I was grieving the loss of my best friend.  She made sure the school knew I was going through issues and that I would not be the same child. 

Mami found a way to babysit children at home and get me what I needed.  I needed for someone to home to after school, security.  I always had clean clothes, a roof over my head, vacations, someone to show up at my school events. The most amazing thing to me was that she didn't drive a single day in her life and still doesnt' to this day.  The first vacation we took after my dad was to Florida, on a bus. Yes, a bus from California to Florida.  Years later I wondered, how? How did she come up with the money, how did she make the arrangements, how did she know we were going to be safe on the trip?

I looked back on that recently and knew, just knew that it was the same love I feel for my own children.  For many times that I feel defeated and alone, I remember Mami.  She did this alone, with no family nearby to support her.  Just her will to give me everything I needed and things that I wanted.  The love a mother knows no boundaries.  It does not know about her own grief, but knows about her child's grief.  I am the super single mom today thanks in part to all those experiences that Mami gave me and made it seem effortless.  Her grief, her loneliness, her struggles, all set aside.  So when people question how I do it all for my the Things I just hold my head high and say "I'm Super Mom Jr.". 

On this day I honor you Mami,  you survived my teenage years alone, I too shall make it through.


Happy Mother's day all!

Buried in Papers and Tears

Big black bold letters on the pretty colorful envelope that was given to me made me freeze. Figuratively and physically, I just froze holding the large packet.

“FOSTER ELEMENTARY SCHOOL”

My goodness I wanted to cry. I held back because after all, a grown woman crying in a school cafeteria is not conducive to the appearance of a mature motherly type.  Wasn’t it just the other day that I was wiping the drool from Thing One’s chin after all the teething that he was doing?  Didn’t I just wean him off a pacifier?  Didn’t he just learn to say Momma? UGH!  Of course not a tear was shed in the cafeteria, but my soul was crying.  Joy, sadness, and sheer panic settled in the pit of my stomach. 

A part of me was mad as well.  What the heck!  It’s only April! First Kindergarten meeting for early registration is well on it is well on its way in many school districts.  Children do not start school until August and the children and I are just starting to enjoy the longer days of sunshine and I am being forced to think of Fall already.

I am a planner by nature, but this I was not planning to do so far in advance.  Let me keep my baby boy!  Let me snuggle more, let us play silly face longer without the rush of homework or grades looming over us!  Let me play a little longer with my boy with no academic pressure if we are doing the right things together.  He will be buried in paperwork and thinking and growing.  I know this.  I cannot help but think that I am losing a part of him, just like he lost his cherub cheeks over the course of the last year. 

Now, don’t get me wrong I’m a fairly sane woman.  I know he needs to be in school and I know very well I need to let go a little at a time, but no one said it would be easy.  I know he is ready for this and I need to start loosening that blanket of security that I have had him swaddled all these years.  I just hope the school doesn’t mind a few salty stain tear drops on the mountains of papers I am to turn in to them.

Welcome new chapter for both Thing One and I.  Come August we will both be Kindergarten ready.  Or at least he will be. *sniff* *sniff*

An only child experiencing Sibling Rivalry

Oh sure they look sweet up there ^ , all sugar and spice and everything is nice. That reality is farther from the truth.  This was a brief and eluding moment in Thing One and Thing Two's everyday existence.  For the most part it is what I experienced the other morning with them as I was trying to get them out the door.

Thing Two *sitting on the toilet* :  Mommy I on the potty, ok.
Thing One *standing over sink brushing his teeth*: DON'T SAY POTTY!
Thing Two *singing voice*: POTTY! POTTY! POTTY!
Thing One *annoyed and yelling*: NO STOP! STOP SAYING POTTY! MOOOOOOOMMMMMMMY!

Me *Sigh*: Both of you stop.  Thing Two finish going potty and stop saying potty.  Thing One doesn't want to hear it.  Thing One, just ignore your sister and finish brushing your teeth.


Now I am certain this is normal for those of you who have had siblings growing up.  The fight over who is mom's favorite, the one that gets the attention.  It's a constant battle of what is yours and what is mine.  Trying to fit in, where you can get in.  That was not my experience.  I was an only child for the most part.  My parents had me and I had a slew of half siblings that were far older than I.  As a matter of fact I had nieces and nephews either older or a few years younger than I.  I was what people refer to as a lonely only.  I often longed for siblings close to my age to play with.  Often I would watch families with children close in age with envy.  For the most part I play referee trying to understand how a simple thing like a look or word can send them over the edge.

I guess it is safe to say that I am learning along with my children what the sibling experience is all about.  Who would have known it was going to be this hard to just have them get along.  Sure they get along like the picture above but and that is what gives me hope.  When one is without the other they ask where they are and if they are ok, and how much they miss their sibling.  It gives me hope that someday down the line the fights will be few and the love will be plenty.

Is there something that you never experienced growing up that you have had to learn now as a parent?

This is NORMAL.

The cheerleader: Mama Kat's world famous writer's workshop

So because lately I've slacked...and by slacked I mean just brain farted when it comes to my writing in the blog I decided to take on Mama Kat's Pretty World Famous Writer's workshop challenge.  She is great at throwing out some ideas to get the juices flowing.  This weeks workshop:  Who were you in High School? Read on...

High School.  That was some 20 odd years ago, but who's counting right?  I was the peppy, high spirited girl with the smile always.  I wasn't particularly mean to anyone.  You can ask any of my million facebook friends from High School and they might say the same thing.  I may have even gotten the reputation of party girl at one point.  I have no idea how that got around.  In all sense I was figuratively the typical teenager. 

Except for one thing, everyone perceived me as just the peppy, happy girl.  They had no idea that I struggled for a very long time with my appearance.  I wanted to be that stick straight girl that all the other girls were. Self conscious does not even begin to explain how I looked at myself.  These days that would be could called body morphic disorder.  Fat, plump, thunder thighs, and boobs.  This is what I saw staring at me in the mirror.  Do you see the picture above? That's me, fat. Yes F-A-T.  What I would give to be that fat again.  I really hated my body.  It seems ridiculous now that I look at this picture.  Yes, my body was different than everyone else in school.  My body was that of a typical Latina.  Hips, legs and a chest.  Heredity was the owner of that body. 

I was the typical teenager alright.  Wanting to fit in anywhere, not comfortable in my own skin.  Awkward feeling inside and out.  Did I mention that in high school I suppressed a lot of what my brain could accomplish?  I wasn't a genius by no means.  I was however fairly intelligent.  I limited the things I could do so as not to appear as geeky as I truly was.  I have always been and will always be a geek at heart. 

I wish this song would have come out while I was in high school:

I would have more confidence in knowing that there was more than just being pretty or peppy or well liked by everyone.

 

So what has changed?  I don't give a rats ass what people think of me or how they perceive me anymore.  It's been a long road, but I've learned that people will see you the way they want to see you.  You however know deep down inside who you are. I wish my mom could have explained that to me as a teenager.  I think that's why it's my mission to tell my kids that you will feel left out of certain crowds in high school and that you will second yourself many many times.  The only thing they need to know is to trust their heart and know that whoever they are...they will always be amazing to the important people in their lives.  Themselves.

Who were you in High School?  Would you let your child be the same way in High School? 

Gender bender...

This giant sign has been the bane of my existence these days.  Thing one gets very perplexed now when we have to use public restrooms.  He looks at the sign in which we are entering and exclaims "BUT I'M NOT A GIRL!!".  *SIGH*  Each and every single time, same conversation. 

This new behavior and observation has come to be since he started preschool.  He is now very aware of his gender. "I am a boy momma."  I hear this over and over every time I try to inch him into the "girl" restroom.  The whole time he is pulling towards the "boy" bathroom that is inches away.  This scenario could make anyone chuckle, but to me it is the reminder that I am a single mother raising a son. It's also a reminder that there are occasions in which I have to sit and explain to Thing One that:

1. He cannot do some things, because mom is not capable of going into the male restroom with him, because well I am a girl. AND
2. I don't have a male counterpart that could take him or do some of the things he desires to do. " You can't go by yourself son, you are 4!"

I don't even have a dad or brother to even say "you take him". Those moments I am aware of how important it is for him to have a good male example around.  He has Big Cheese during the week, but there are those moments when he is with Mami, Thing Two, and I that I wish I could let him in that "boy" restroom with someone trusted. 

So for now I just try my best to give him other options for restrooms.  Like the family restroom, or the Male/Female restroom above. I do a lot of speaking with him and try to get him to understand that for now, when he is with Mommy he is stuck in a female world.  But this will only last for so long.  I am trying my best to get some positive male role models in his and my life.  I am lucky to have friends with husbands who are willing to help and that is a sigh of relief at times. 

Thing One does a bring a smile to my face when he exclaims "You're not a girl! You're a Mommy"

My take away from all this is :  Don't let the limitations hinder you, learn from them. 

Believe me I'M TRYING. *sigh*

The end of an era... *SNIFF, SNIFF, SIGH*

Let me just start off by saying that I apologize for my long hiatus from my lovely blog.  There have been circumstances in my un-virtual world that have caused me a lot of reflective thinking and I've become a cyber-space hermit.  I will post in a later blog of what I have been reflecting on.  But now on to more important issues:

Thing One graduated from Gymboree this Saturday.  What's Gymboree?  Clothes? NO!  It's been the best mommy and me experience for my kids and I.  When I was a preschool teacher way before kids I remember hearing parents talk about the nice experience they had taking their children their and all the stuff they did.  Then came the time I was home alone with my first baby, going bonkers.  All of my friends pretty much had school age children or teenagers, so I had no idea how to connect with them at this time in my life.  I really felt isolated and in dire need of letting my inner social butterfly to GET OUT. 

I hopped on to the website for Gymboree Play and Music out of curiosity.  I searched to see where the nearest facility was and just to observe.  They offered a free first time class and it so happened they had one for infants.  I had to get out, I had developed carpal tunnels which was painful, the baby crying, and feeling isolated, well I just had to. 

I walked into a brightly colored space with Thing One tightly wrapped in my arms.  I was greeted by the biggest brightest smile from Kristen.  She was the teacher on Saturdays and for the next three some odd years for my darling children.  The first day we attended Thing One was 3 months old and he was a fidgety, crying stressed out baby.  Kristen explained that sometimes the stimulation caused all that crying and that it would go away eventually.  It did and he eventually came to think of Gymboree as his home away from home.  We all did.  This experience was not just for him but for Mami and Me. 

In the three odd years that we have been going faithfully to Gymboree we developed life long friendships with many of the families.  Thing One has grown in those years and learned so much while he was there.  He rolled over on the first time while in class.  He cruised around the foamy mats and did his famous army crawl.  He mastered climbing on and off the structures, which I'm sure is why he never fell off the bed, he knew how to do it right.  He sang his first words, only to babble incessantly at the age of 2.  He learned to make friends and take turns.  He lost his fear of crawling through a tunnel and graduated to leaping off the climbing structure. 

So when his teacher left Gymboree it felt like it was time to go.  The class didn't have the same feel after Teacher Kristmas (As Thing One would refer to her) was gone.  I started to notice that Thing One had no real interest in the classes and well we already had started soccer and many more activities were opening up to his age in the community.  I decided to pull him out of the program and take on other challenges.  It was a hard decision to make.  He simply outgrew Gymboree and he was now becoming a preschooler.

His last day was this Saturday.  I had a rush of memories and all that had gone on in the three years that had transpired.  All very positive and I realized it was time to let go.  I had some tears that morning.  My baby boy was now a preschool boy.  Thank you to my Gymboree family!  You will never know how much sharing we have done watching our kids grew together.  On to the next chapter...

First class 11/2007

Last but not least...His last review at Gymboree...we will miss you Gymbo, thanks for all the memories, friendship, and family!

The Big Fat Mexican Wedding Moment

If you haven't seen the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding you have no idea about what that picture of the bottle of Windex is about.  To put it briefly, the father of the bride in the movie swears the Windex has healing powers and can cure just about anything.  Anything that ails you, just spray the Windex.  When I watched this scene in the movie, I had to laugh.  You see it may not be Windex in many Latino homes, but it could be in our home Mentholatum, the cure all of Cure alls.  It's an ointment very similar to Vick's vapor rub. 

I can still remember the first time my dad used it to ease my growing pains in my shins.  They were always would be so painful that the warmth of the ointment would just feel good while Sarge would rub it into my legs and wrap it up with one of his 1970's style long basketball socks with red stripes on the top.  Nothing felt quite as soothing as that.  Then there was the time my sister swore it cured a child who wouldn't nap (me) by placing it ever so gently on the top of my eyebrows.  Sure it worked, I had to keep my eyes closed to keep them from watering. So eventually it did do the trick and I was off to slumber land (THANKS SIS!).  I think a lot of the soothing I felt in those moments when I either scraped my knee, or was going through growing pains was not so much from the actual ointment. The actual healing that was happening was the care and concern from the adult giving me the attention needed to make me feel better. 

Thing One had been complaining about his legs when he was playing soccer.  I brushed it off and thought he was ok.  After I had given him a warm bath Mami asked me to bring him to her room.  There she had some of her magic healing ointment.  I thought they didn't make it anymore!  Thing One let her rub the ointment on his shin and then had a nice long sock placed on his legs.  He slept peacefully that night.  A few weeks have passed since that moment and the Things were outside playing.  Thing Two fell on her knees, no scrapes but lots of tears.  Thing One ran to me and said "Momma Yiyi needs Abi's cream!"  It brought a smile to my face to know that there will be no medicine will be quite as strong as the Mentholatum and Abi's loving touch.

Any of you have special remedies that just don't make sense to anyone else but to your family?

Mi Mami...

Ok so it's been busy, busy, busy for this momma.  I have left you guys neglected.  For good reason, between  new duties at work, taking care of my babies, and my momma, well something had to give.


The one thing I could not do was leave you without a mother's day post.  So here I am, a mommy blogger writing what seems like an eternity to get to this point.  What point do you ask?  Well it's simple, the total appreciation of my Mami. Mami is a hard as nails type of mom.  My relationship with her has always been difficult.  I was always daddy's little girl.  She was always very hard on me.  Until recently I realized why she was like this with me. 

Mami's own relationship with her mother, my grandmother was rather strained.  She grew up thinking that her mother was her sister and that her grandmother was her mom.  When her grandmother died when she was 12, the same age I was when I lost my dad.  This is the moment she found out that what she had always known as secure and loving was gone.  I can see now why she was not that kissy lovey mom, she didn't know how. 

Her struggles being a teen mom and having her two oldest children taken from her by their fathers in a time when a woman living in a latin country had basically no rights, may have shaped her as well.  Later when she had thought she found someone to truly love her and raise a family with, he let her down and left her and my dear sister.  This is the pivotal moment in her life when she truly became the mom I now know.  She knew no one in the United States, but she wanted a better life for her and my sister and took an airplane with money she had saved for years and headed to her future home.  One word comes to mind when I think of her....TENACITY. 

How does someone go through all that she did only to pick themselves up and move forward?  That's easy, the love she had for her child.  Like I said she is not demonstrative and that always made me feel like maybe she didn't love me.  When Sarge died, I would hear her cry night after night, but she never let me know exactly how hard it was.  She didn't have a job, she had me to raise, and still had a house payment, yet I knew nothing of that.  I always had food in my belly, new clothes for school, a roof over my head, and the latest gadget that my little heart desired.  She would babysit the neighborhood kids at home so that she would always be home for me when I got home.  She knew I needed security.  She may not have kissed me enough, or hugged me enough, but she taught me to be the woman I am now.

When things get tough with the kids and being a single mom, I think about Mami and all she went through.  She taught me to hold my head high and never fall apart even when inside you are.  Thank you for toughening me up and letting Sarge nurture my softer side.  Your love has taught me that there are different ways people express there love, and their is no right way to love. 

I may be the kissy huggy mom to my kids, but I am also the first one to discipline them.  My Mami taught me that you can love your children, but you need to prepare them for the future.  Thank you Mami for being my fortress and my example.  On a side note, she is the most kissable, huggable Abi (grandma) ever! 

Whatever your love language is, express it always and forever.  Happy Mother's Day!

Te quiero Mami, gracias por tu amor infinito.

Career Girl Interrupted

Ever since I was a child my mind has been wrapped up in making it as a successful business/career woman.   I was about 8 or 9 years old when I saw this commercial:

She seemed so with it, together.  I wanted to be that woman with a business suit to say "I brought home the bacon".  While all of my friends were playing with dolls, pretending to be mommy's, I pretended to be the daycare center owner or the school principal where all the dolls would be.  While my friends were playing tea party, I played the owner of the restaurant where they were having tea.  My parents had taken me to a warehouse store (Think Costco)  and asked if I wanted anything.  I wanted a huge box of Cracker Jacks.  Instead of a delicious snack, I though of selling the boxes to my friends and making a profit out of it.  This was successful and I had a neighborhood candy store out of my garage.  I started with candy and progressed to soda's to the neighborhood adults.  I got my first job at 13 working for the parks and recreation program in the city through a special program.  I also was able to house sit for the neighbors that went on vacation and babysit to make some extra cash. 

I never saw my life without some kind of goal being met towards a career.  I went to school became a preschool teacher and then life happened.  I met Prince Charming.  I wanted babies with him and my career goal took a slight back seat to Life.  When babies were not in our future and a divorce was more than likely I put my head back into being a career woman.  I was 30 by this time.  I changed careers, and had to start from the bottom again.  The struggles where all worth it, I went back to school and worked in various businesses.  Graduating with my Bachelors degree in Business was the best thing ever, I was looking forward to working towards my MBA.  There I was 35 and full of hopes to move forward with my career and with my new job. I still rememeber my interview they asked me "Where to you see yourself in 5 years?"  my answer "In a management position, such as yours" .  I was THAT ambitious.

Flash forward to just a year after graduation.  I find myself pregnant, this was not in my career plan or my life plan.  I struggled with concentrating on work let alone on the whole I am going to be a mom.  I had wanted to be a mother for so long and then the moment I gave up and was going to dedicate myself to my career.  After all this was the dream I had since I was a child.  I felt really emotional about the choices I was going to have to make.  During that time I was the only one that would have a child in the office.  I felt hard to relate to my co-workers and all I wanted to do was sit and cry.  Once Thing One was born, I just yearned to be home.  Financially Big Cheese and I knew I had to go back to work.  It pulled at every inch of my heart to leave Thing One everyday.  Every morning I cried in my car before getting into work.  I often felt alienated because no one really was going through the same things I was going through.  Not to much later I was pregnant again with Thing Two.  I struggled again with going to work.  This time I was the not the only one in the office with children, so I started to feel more of a camaraderie between my co-workers. 

So here I sit almost 5 years from the point of when I got hired and I told the interviewer I wanted a management spot.  Somehow life has side tracked me again.  Sure, this could probably be a really sad realization to some, but something happened just the other day. My yearly review was a real success and I was asked if I would like to make the next step in my career.  My answer surprised me.  Without hesitation I said "Let me think about that, I have to consider my life/work balance".  I thought of the extra stress , what I would be bring home with me and into my children's lives. Imagine that?!?!  This whole time while I thought was wishing for a career, I really just wanted to be a successful mom. I am ok with that.

The Evolution of a Diaper Bag

I was cleaning out the closets and getting ready to get rid of things when I ran into a few diaper bags I have used in the past with my babies.  Each one of the bags has a story of where I was in my many mommy stages.  

The BackPack

My first ever diaper bag was a sling backpack diaper bag.  We chose this one because, well there was a "WE".  I wasn't going to be the only one lugging around a baby and really how cool does a guy look with a Winnie the Pooh diaper bag? 

 

The Free Hospital Small Diaper Bag

This is the smaller tote bag that I hauled around after Thing One was about 10 months old.  It was the free bag the hospital had given me and it was convenient.  I was having to bring less items with me when I took him places.  A sippy cup, diapers, wipes, and a place for my wallet and cell phone. It was super convenient as well because I needed a lightweight bag since I was carrying Thing Two in my belly at the time.

 

The Suitcase "THE BEAST" 

This lovely HUGE suitcase of a diaper bag was what was required when I was in the thick of two babies that were 17 months apart.  It carried bottles, sippy cups, bibs, change of clothes, pull -ups, snacks, diapers, a huge refill of baby wipes, plastic bags, baby food.  I probably could have packed a few receiving blankets in that thing too.  This was also the time I found myself alone and having to bring both babies with me anywhere and everywhere. 

The Free Hospital Tote Bag Part DEUX

This is the tote bag that was on a smaller scale than the BEAST I was carrying when I had two babies in tow.  I started using this one when Thing Two was about 9 months old and Thing One was completely potty trained.  I still had to lug some bottles and snacks and diapers around, but it wasn't the overwhelming monster I had to pack previously.

 

The "Let's Go Somewhere FUN" Backpack

This is what I currently use to go to places like the County Fair, the Zoo, Book Fairs, the park for a day, or anything that requires a whole day out with two toddlers.  I like the broad straps that make it comfortable to wear on my shoulders.  It also leaves my hands free to catch a toddler who just happens to run the opposite way of our intended destination.  It also has my favorite college's logo on it.  I aspire to have one or both of the Things to go someday. 

The "Throw it in" Tote Bag

This was given to me recently for Christmas. I love that I can personalize it with pictures that mean a lot to me and Things One and Two.  I love that I can now just throw in two sippy cups, one change of clothes, a few diapers, and a small wipe box.  It's light and the kids love to hold it for me and look at the memories we've created along the way.

*SIGH*

This screams more "HOT MAMA" and less "HOT TODDLER MESS MOMMA" .  Someday I keep telling myself.  I'm sure once I get this purse I'm going to miss those big diaper bag days (or not).  

The Chupy (Pacifier) Chronicles

AHEM..*Stands in front of podium and adjusts microphone*

"Hi my name is Dooritos, I am a mommy who has let her child have a Chupy (Pacifier) until the age of 2"

Yes, I feel like I need to be in an 12 step program when taking away my last babies special Chupy.  Why does it feel like I have to let her go from being my baby girl?! UGH! 

• First step:  Admit I'm powerless over the fact that my 2 year old needs a chupy and that every minute of the day has been overwhelmed with demands of this "Chupy".  When did losing a chupy put me in panic mode??!!!
• Second step:  Making the decision to finally get rid of the Chupy and letting my 2 year old get a hold of herself and comforting herself without the help of said "chupy".

Day one of operation "NO CHUPY" Step One was realized on her second birthday.  When I thought, she's a grown little girl, she talks, makes demands, and really is no longer a helpless baby.  OH MY...she still has a chupy!!!!  Ok time for intervention....TOMORROW.  :)

Why hide this beautiful smile behind a Chupy?!



Her last time with her beloved Chupy. (or so I thought)

Day two of operation "NO Chupy" went something like this:

Me: "Good Morning Thing Two! How are you?" 

Thing Two: "I want Chupy"

Me: "No you're two now.  You are a big girl and big girls don't use a Chupy"

Thing Two: " I NOT TWO! I NOT BIG GIRL!"

Me: *Blank stare* SIGH

I ignored her request and we went on to Gymboree and our normal routine, without much fuss.  Then we drove home and Thing Two fell asleep in the car.  As I was moving her from the car to her bed she woke up demanding said Chupy.  Again I said no.  This is what occurred right after:

*SIGH*  She finally calmed down and I was more exhausted from the whole ordeal than maybe she was.  It could have also have been that I had been feeling sick and the birthday party the evening before had just wasted me away to an absolute stupor.  Grandpa Big Cheese offered to take the kids over night, and I gladly handed them over.  This is the part when we fall off the wagon.  I handed Grandpa Big Cheese the much acclaimed Chupy.  I wasn't going to have him go through what I went through.  "Just give it to her tonight, I will deal with this tomorrow"  The Chupy won that time.  I felt defeated and tired.  Tomorrow would be another day.

Day three of operation "NO Chupy" went a little better. We had already limited the Chupy use months ago to just nap and just bed time.  She occasionally found one and stuck it in her mouth during these months.  All day, no Chupy requests, thank goodness!  Then came bedtime.  Thing Two requested over and over her beloved Chupy.  Finally at about 11:00 pm she fell asleep Chupy-less.  RELIEF!  Then at about three in the morning I got a visitor in my bedroom.  All I heard was a small whisper "Mommy Chuppy".  Again explained she was a big girl and put her back to bed.  An hour later she found her way back to my room "Mommy Chupy.  I sleep you?" I needed sleep, so in she went to my bed while I slept for another 30 minutes just to be awakened by my lovely alarm clock.  I think this was the point when I met the step of making a decision to let God take over. GOD, please let me get through this!!!

Day four of operation "No Chupy" was splendid.  No chupy requests, no fighting her sleep, just sleep at a decent hour.  This was a great day!

Day five of operation "No Chupy", what happened to day four!!!!  Well Thing Two stayed up until 11 pm requesting, pleading, begging for her Chupy.  I almost gave in, but I remembered the day before and the success of that day.  She fell asleep and I got no visitor that night. 

Day six, my goodness I'm exhausted!  She's exhausted too, I can see it across her face.  That night not much screaming or pleading, just a simple question, "Chupy mommy?"   Again the big girl conversation was told to Thing Two.  This time after I finished I got a sigh and an "OKAY".  Wow, that was something I didn't expect. I think she reached the acceptance step.  Then I got a visit at two in the morning, "Mommy I sleep you?".  SIGH, from me this time.  OKAY.

Today is day seven, a week from the time we both have been going through this operation "No Chupy".  It a long road but I think we both have gone through most of the process.  Eventually we will get to the point where a Chupy is no longer mentioned, like that one family member that is never spoken about at family parties.  Today, we will have ice-cream and I will remind her what a big girl she is and how proud I am of her.

I'm still exhausted, I'm still going through growing pains, but it needs to be done.  She will be ok, but it's still hard.  I'm going to hate potty training her.

What challenges have you had with your children?  Have you felt like you have been put through it with them?