DC Metro Moms

The unbearable uncoolness of the minivan

I will confess, I was thrilled when we bought our minivan five years ago.  I was pregnant with my fourth child and was tired of cramming three carseats together in the backseat of our Subaru wagon.  I love the Subaru, but long trips meant I had to sit with a cooler in my lap and listen to my kids spend HOURS poking each other because they were mere millimeters apart. 

So going minivan was the right choice for us.  In the momiverse, some minivans are cooler than others, but really, in the realm of coolness, I have fallen far off the charts.

Although they are completely impractical, I have to say, I currently covet the MINI Cooper.  Perhaps they represent my long ago, single, urban, child-free life.  Call me crazy, but when I see someone driving a MINI, they look like they are having a BLAST.  When they grocery shop, they probably only buy one gallon of milk, not 8.  When they go to the pool, they probably just grab a towel and a magazine.  Not 6 towels, a cooler and a laundry basket full of toys.  When they go out for dinner, it's probably not to McDonalds.

Cross another item off The List

Remember that list you created before you had kids?  The list of all the things YOUR kids would never do?  (Some of the things on my list were Eat Fast Food, Watch TV and Play Video Games.)  And then, you had kids and one by one started crossing things off The List - realizing that real life with kids is a lot more complicated than the one you imagined.

My oldest was 4-months old the first time he sucked the salt off a McDonald's french fry.  That was the first thing I crossed off The List.  Then, I discovered that the only way to get him to eat breakfast and get dressed was if he could watch Teletubbies at the same time.  (Yes, they're freaky, but I would never have gotten to work on time without those puffy, colored aliens.)

Eventually, you figure out your actual parenting groove and the things that are absolutes for you.  And they usually aren't the things you thought they would be.

One of the things on my list was No Travel Sports.  I was flabbergasted at the amount of time and money that people we know put into their kids' sports teams.  Thousands and thousands of dollars.  Airplanes, hotels and weekends on the road traveling to tournaments all over the country.

Team WhyMommy and the Virtual Science Fair

From across the blogosphere, and actually, across the world, bloggers have joined together to show support for one of our own.  Yesterday, Susan Niebur (WhyMommy), a former DC Metro Moms contributor, who blogs at Toddler Planet, Mothers with Cancer and Women in Planetary Science, began Round Two of her battle with inflammatory breast cancer by having cancerous lymph nodes removed.

Susan is an astrophysicist, space scientist, writer, advocate, mom to two boys and friend.  Jean, of Stimeyland, wanted to organize a show of support and love for Susan, but wanted it to be a day of science, not a day of cancer. 

And thus, the Team WhyMommy Virtual Science Fair was born. Bloggers from China to New Zealand and across the Americas took on the task of science and wrote about it, turning Susan's love of science into our own little science of love.

Have You Heard About the Lonesome Loser?

I started out writing a post about Facebook and how I call it "Hell's Cocktail Party" because it is such a bizarre collection of people: my neighbors, blog friends, nieces and nephews, my kid, my kid's friends, college roommates, high school friends, former co-workers, in-laws, old boyfriends... that honestly, I can rarely think of a status update that is appropriate for all those people to read.  I'm certainly not posting the color of my bra.  Or mentioning that I am drinking margaritas at 3 in the afternoon.  (Not that I've ever done that...)

But as I was doing research for this important post, I was lurking around on Facebook and I saw some pictures someone posted of my neighborhood girlfriends. 

Are You a Fretter or a Dweller?

There are two kinds of people in this world.  Fretters and dwellers.  Fretters worry about what is going to happen.  Dwellers worry about what has already happened.  Maybe there is a third kind of person, those who don't worry about either.  I don't actually know anyone like that though.

I am a fretter.  I obsess over decisions, upcoming meetings, parties, confrontations.  (See almost every blog post I have ever written.)  But once I have made the decision, arrived at the meeting, the party has begun, the confrontation is over - I'm all good.  I don't re-hash or wonder if I made the right decision or said anything stupid.  Maybe it's because the past moves into that great big blur of mommy brain.  Or maybe it's because I'm too busy fretting about whatever is coming up next.

Whenever we host a party, I whip myself into a complete frenzy by the day of the event.  My husband has developed a coping mechanism for these situations.  In those last few hours, when I am frantically cleaning, putting out fresh towels, cooking and snapping at everyone who comes near me, he volunteers to go out for ice.  Then he gets in the car with whatever kids he can convince to come with him and goes to 7-11 for ice.  In West Virginia.  He gets back once the party is in full swing and my fretting is a distant, hazy memory.

Baby Girl

My 4-year old daughter is obsessed with babies.  She talks about babies all day long.  She plays with baby dolls, stalks babies at the playground and has already named all FIVE of the babies she plans to have when she grows up.  (Molly, Sarah, Laura, Lucy and Peter, by the way.)

I remember my other kids going through phases like this, but they never lasted.  Maybe because the older ones all had a live baby to play with.  But Baby Girl is and shall remain MY baby, so her obsession with babies lives on.

Recently, her friend (and future husband if she gets her way, but shhh... that's a secret) had a baby born in his family.  So she got to watch the expectant mom's belly grow big until the exciting day when she called in labor, about to head to the hospital.  My daughter was so excited she could hardly STAND it.  She wanted to know what was happening every few minutes.  And while I wasn't getting live updates, I told her about her own birth day and the things that happened.  And I told her about the amazing, life-changing moment when each of my babies was first laid on my stomach.  Those are the most thrilling moments of my life and I will never forget them.  If I were younger, I might even consider having more babies, just because that moment is so very powerful it sustains you through the next 18 30 years.

The 2010 Winter Olympic Games

I must confess, I'm a little sick of TV... Because? SnOMG? Snow! Everywhere! What are we going to DO with ALL THE SNOW?! Have you SEEN all the snow out there? Let's send reporters out into the SNOW to show pictures. And TALK. ABOUT. ALL. THE. SNOW.

Enough already. I'M VERY AWARE OF THE SNOW.

Thank GOD for the Olympics! I LOVE me some Winter Olympics.

Except? I'm a crier. Big time. And the Winter Olympics make me cry.

It all started back in the 1980 Games in Lake Placid, when Randy Gardner pulled a groin muscle during warm ups and he and Tai Babilonia had to pull out of the pairs figure skating competition. And the Miracle on Ice, when the U.S. hockey team unbelieveably defeated the Soviet Union and went on to win the gold. Remember Jim Craig, holding the flag that had been wrapped around his shoulders, looking up into the stands for his dad? Remember team captain, Mike Eruzione calling his team up to the medal podium to stand with him?

The Social Secrets of Women

Until this year, my 9-year old daughter was funny, confident and happy.  She could be a handful, don't get me wrong.  She had a high energy level and a completely inappropriate sense of humor.  (Something I secretly enjoyed, but had to maintain some modicum of my Mommy Disapproves Face.)

This year, though, I have a different child.  She is calmer, which is nice in a way, but it's not borne out of maturity so much as self-consciousness.  She is worried, sad, doubtful.  Depressed, maybe even.

Some of it may be due to the slow beginnings of little bursts of estrogen coursing through her body.  But much of it is due to friendships, or lack thereof.

Girls are so COMPLICATED.  And I AM one, so I should be able to help her through this, right?  Instead, I am suffering from post-traumatic flashbacks of my own middle school years and feeling completely underqualified to be practicing therapy without a license.

Revisionist History

We took a trip for Thanksgiving.  To the Land of Revisionist History.  Maybe you've been there.  It's the place where everyone else in your family remembers how quiet and well-behaved THEIR kids were.  And what strong disciplinarians THEY were.  And how their kids responded to said discipline with respect.  Not JUST respect, but actually, GRATITUDE.  Because they had such excellent parents who were so, you know, organized and on-the-ball.  And strict!  Don't forget strict.  Because they were.  And their kids LOVED it.

It's funny, because the memories I have of the other kids in my family are slightly different.  It's the Land of Remember the year we all had to get up and change places because we weren't sitting where a 3-year old wanted us to?  Remember the Pictionary games that got taken over by kids who couldn't read or draw?  Remember the spills and the tantrums and the wrestling and the arguments?  Remember the tired parents who sunk into the couch, clutching a wineglass, praying that someone else would watch their kids for 20 minutes?

Those are the family gatherings I remember.  And, isn't that the way holidays always are with kids?  They are wound up like tops with excitement.  There are uncles to wrestle.  Cousins to pester.  Houses to explore.  Unfamiliar foods to be treated with suspicion.  Scratchy sweaters to complain about.

Emotional Roller Coaster

I remember a conversation 10 years ago, when I was pregnant with my second child and planned to stop working once she was born. An older, wiser cousin warned me about the roller coaster of emotions his wife experienced while staying home with their young children.

Meh. "I'm a pretty even-keeled person," I thought.  I knew there would be an adjustment period. I'd been working in a fast-paced business for many years. But I'd have a 2-year old and a baby. I'd be busy. And no more dragging a sleeping kid out of his crib to get him to daycare early in the morning. He could sleep in. I could sleep in. This was going to be awesome.

Two more kids and ten years later, I can say, yes, parts of it are absolutely awesome. There is far less stress in our lives because I am now a stay-at-home mom. No more daycare expenses. Sick kids are no problem - they can stay home with me without any scrambling. I can volunteer at their schools without using up vacation time. I can run a forgotten lunch up to them. I can spend a beautiful fall day outside throwing leaves at my daughter.

It's magical.