Choking on this second-hand smoke

I may be a few days late in seeing this, but I am too shocked and disgusted to leave it alone.

This kid, the same age as my precious, healthy, funny Amelia, SMOKES! His father gave him his first cigarette at 18 months old. Um... WHAT?!?!?!

How does someone even get to that point? How does a parent ever think it is a good idea to give an 18-month old a cigarette?

Says the horrible father, "I am not worried about his health. He looks healthy. He cries and throws tantrums when we don't let him smoke."

Um... again... WHAT?!?!?!?! So he looks healthy on the outside, and that makes it OK? He cries, so you give in to his demand for a cancer and emphysema-causing cigarette? This sickens me.

That poor, poor child.

I should be napping

I really should. I should be chilling out on the couch, nothing but silence coming from the baby monitor, my eyes closed. But am I napping? Of course not.

I have some kind of ridiculous obsession with finding things to do. Even when I am caught up on work and chores, I manage to waste time on Facebook. Or email. Or, like this very moment, I have a blog post to write. And 99.9% of the time, right as I have finally decided to take a quiet moment all to myself, I hear that little sweet voice from upstairs.

"Mommy?" Mommmmmmy?"

She seems to know exactly when to wake up. To make sure I have wasted every precious second of her naptime on stuff that I may or may not have needed to do.

Today I am going to relax. As soon as I finish this post. Last night, I was lucky enough to have a girls' night out with three neighbor/mommy/friends. We had some margaritas and yummy white queso dip. I had a BBQ chicken taco that was a little bit spicy and quite yummy. And the four of us, we laughed. We laughed about our husbands (in the nicest possible way, honey). We laughed about our kids. We actually conversed on subjects that had nothing to do with our kids (imagine that!). And we talked about how another neighbor's kid may or may not wear a swim diaper in our community pool (I seriously hope so). And the drunk neighbor who once could not find his own home. It was a really good time. Something we need to do much more often.

I was out way beyond my usual self-imposed curfew. These days I barely make it to 10:30 before crawling into bed. We got home around 11:10. I had a fabulous no-stress sleep. And now I am greedy for more "me" time. I could use a little more rest.

So here is my announcement: I am going to take a nap!!! I have no ability to nap longer than 20-30 minutes, but I'll take what I can get. Yay for calm & rested Mommy! See ya later.

Summer is looking good

There is a very good reason they call it HOTlanta. We're already deep into our muggy, humid afternoons. It was 90 degrees yesterday.

I have not been looking forward to this summer, fully aware of how much Amelia loves and needs outside time. At 14 months old, she didn't really care if she saw the sun & sky or not. But one year later, we are all about walking, running, sliding, and wagon rides through the neighborhood. She's probably as bored of these four walls as I am by now.

I knew school would help me a bit, allowing her playtime outdoors two days each week. But what was my plan for each afternoon when that little girl was inevitably going to look at me, pleading eyes and all, and ask "play outside, Mommy?"

Thank goodness I found my answer.

The POOL!

Amelia splashes, kicks, and giggles in the water. She watches the other kids. And despite her ridiculously short attention span, she can actually stay there for over an hour! I've never been much of a pool person. Swimsuits are not comfortable. My skin is perpetually pale (I have no idea why I don't tan anymore... I must be the only person on Earth who once returned from 10 days in Hawaii the exact same color as when I left). But this neighborhood pool is a lifesaver!

So now I can relax on a float in cool water (Amelia within sight and reach at all times, of course), or I can sweat on a playground while chasing my little munchkin. Which one sounds more comfortable to you?

Yay for water.

Perhaps I will survive the summer after all.

Saturday

Hanging out on a Saturday afternoon?

Do you need something to do?

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There are some really well-known and awesome blogs on there. I need all the help I can get. Maybe a miracle too.

I will now end my shameless self-promotion post. Thanks for understanding :)

Welcome home

Amelia has too many toys.

I have filled up every drawer space in our guest room furniture. Any extra corner space in the guest room houses the larger items. I have been stuffing plastic and canvas bins with animals, gadgets, and books for two years. Steve even hauled the giant infant items (like the swing and exersaucer) to our attic space. Still, you can always find our family room cluttered with colorful kid stuff. Animals. Puzzle pieces. Dress-up clothes. And anything else Amelia got her hands on that morning.

I put toys on what I call "rotation" in our house. I get out three or so toys, a few stuffed animals, and several books. These live in the family room for a while. Then occasionally, after Amelia is in bed, I'll switch things out. Not only does this make her excited to see the "new" things again, it helps me to keep much of the clutter hidden from time to time.

Last night, a few of Amelia's previously favorite stuffed animals came out of rotation. Her polar bear, Icy, among them. Amelia took one look at that soft & cuddly white bear on top of the toy bin, and her face lit up with joy. She rushed over to the bin on her little bare feet, where Icy received a very big and very emotional hug.

"Mommy! Mommy!", Amelia exclaimed,

"Icy came home!!!!!"

Leave it to... someone else

Every now and then I look at the "on this day" page from the New York Times. Sometimes I remember past events. Often I learn something I hadn't known before. Occasionally I peruse the celebrity birthdays.

Today, Jerry Mathers (aka Beaver Cleaver from Leave it to Beaver) is 62 years old. Happy birthday to him. In honor of his special day and the show that launched his fame, here are a few musings on why I am grateful NOT to be a 1950s housewife:


I am grateful NOT to be a 1950s housewife because...

Men's cotton boxer shorts and/or an oversize t-shirt are much more comfortable to sleep in than a modest, full-length, long-sleeved nightgown.

I can take my makeup off and pull my hair back in a headband before my husband arrives home from work - and any other time of the day I feel like it.

Cookies come in quick and easy "break & bake" packages, taking only a couple seconds beyond baking time for a warm & delicious treat.

(And speaking of food...) Dinner can be Chinese delivery, a previously frozen pizza, sandwiches, or sometimes even cereal if I've had a rough day and just don't feel like the extra effort for something better.

A stinky diaper on a weekend is as much my husband's responsibility as it is my own.

I can have a job outside of my house. Or inside my house, thanks to modern technologies and the Internet.


Yep, it is 2010. Mommies can celebrate our evolution over the past 60 years. I may be fighting to balance all my personas these days, but I am definitely glad that I am able to have so many. For those of you who are the 100% housewife/mommy type, more power to you. And I am certainly impressed.

But I'll take my modern conveniences and allowances any day.

Now where are those pajama pants? And my glasses. I need to get more comfortable.

A teacher in training

Amelia has the makings of a great teacher. She loves to line up her stuffed animals on the stairs and "read" books to them. She loves to show me flashcards and help me with the pictures. She especially loves to reprimand bad behavior and cuddle her students when they get sad.

Lately Amelia's stuffed dog, Lola, has been pushing the other animals. Amelia says, "Big no-no, Lola. No pushing!" and puts Lola in timeout. Then she hugs and cuddles the pushing victim, usually a smaller animal who can not defend himself.

Elmo seems to have trouble staying awake in class. He is always going upstairs to take a nap. Amelia puts him in bed, tells him to "have a good sleep", and returns to teaching everyone else. Perhaps Elmo should have an earlier bedtime so he can learn with his friends?

In Amelia's actual school today, she led the music session. She confidently told the music teacher which songs to sing. And when to sing a certain song again. Or when to move on to the next song. The rest of the class went along with Amelia's lesson plan. Sounds like she did a good job!


A school session on the stairs. Before Elmo went to take his nap.