Last week was spirit week at the kids' school. Every day of the week, the kids had to bring in or do something different to show their support for the school. For example, one day was pajama day, and the kids wore their jammies to school. Another day was sports day, and everyone wore jerseys in support of their favorite athletic team. And one day was crazy hair day. Sounds like fun, right?
It was. Despite the fact that the "thing" each kid needed to bring in or do was different each day of spirit week, we had a good time with it. Sweet Pea wore her Elmo slippers for silly sock day. KJ brought in his beloved hockey stick on sports day. And then came crazy hair day.
On the morning that Sweet Pea's class had crazy hair day, I gave Sweet Pea crazy hair. She looked great. She looked so great, in fact, that KJ wanted crazy hair too. KJ's class had not designated that day as crazy hair day, but in the spirit of sibling harmony (and really, just generally not caring what the other daycare moms think of me), I gave KJ crazy hair too. He was thrilled with it. He thought he looked cool and the kids were happy. So, we went about our days.
Fast forward to 7 p.m. When I came home from work that night, the kids had already eaten dinner and were playing in our family room. Notably, both heads of hair were still crazy. As my usual, I asked the kids how their days were. And KJ immediately answers me, "today was picture day!"
Oops.
Those are going to be some school pictures I'll never forget!
Showing posts with label daycare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daycare. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
That’s Why They Call the Dad
Today I got the call that all daycare mothers dread: I got the your-child-is-sick/hurt call. Usually I avoid these calls. Daycare is located on site at Husband’s work, so they always call him first. And so far, that’s been a pretty great arrangement. I’m good with sick kids, but I am terrible with the blood/injury stuff. I freak out. I ALWAYS think the injury is the end of the world and requires medical attention. I ALWAYS jump to the worst case scenario. Of course the worst case scenario is rarely the actual scenario, but I lose my ability to think on my feet and reason when my kid is sick or hurt. Plus, the site of my children’s blood causes me to feel a little lightheaded.
But Husband, he is a rock star when it comes to bleeding kids. He can calm the kids down and assess the damage with a cool, calculating eye. In the midst of kid screaming chaos he can make the right call about whether something needs medical attention or not. And generally, he can get everyone back on their merry way. He’s so good at what he does that sometimes he goes back to work and forgets to tell me about it at all.
But today, I was the only parent to call. Husband is on vacation from work this week, and dropped the kids off at daycare so that he could take care of a few projects at home without a bunch of little hands “helping” him. Plus, this is the week that daycare makes those cute homemade Christmas presents for mommy and daddy and I really wanted whatever it was our kids would be making. So, they went to school and daddy went home to work.
But that meant at 1 p.m. today, I got the call from KJ’s teacher. She starts by apologizing for calling me at work, which makes me immediately think KJ has spiked a fever. After all, if KJ were hurt, there would be no need to apologize, right? Every parent would want to know if their kid was hurt, so there wouldn’t be a need to apologize. Fevers are much less threatening. So I start calculating how much time I might have to get to the daycare and get him out before the one hour time limit on sick kids expires. And then I hear her say “blood.” It sinks into me that KJ is hurt, not sick. So much worse.
We’ve had an interesting run with daycare phone calls regarding hurt kids. I’m pretty sure they call Husband every time one of the kids gets injured at school and depending on the severity, they either handle it or he goes there to determine what needs to be done. It’s understandable that daycare only calls one parent. And it’s understandable that they call the on site parent. But since Husband and I don’t communicate during the day, it has caused problems from time to time when I call, say, to check on whether Sweet Pea is eating at school and they mention in passing that they gave her chest compressions when she stopped breathing after her fall today (imagine that freak out).
Today was nowhere near that bad. KJ’s teacher calmly told me that KJ fell climbing up a piece of playground equipment. She honestly told me that none of the teachers saw it, and that KJ did not bring it to their attention. She said that he simply went on playing until one of the teachers noticed blood pouring from his chin. When the teachers realized KJ was hurt, they whisked him away from the playground like the biohazard that he was, and took him to the nurse to determine the extent of the damage.
But then we hit a snag. The nurse wasn’t sure if KJ needed stitches. It wasn’t that KJ wouldn’t let them look at the cut. To the contrary, he was a model patient – he didn’t cry at any point at all. But the cut was in a difficult place, and it was kind hard to tell, so they wanted Husband or I to come look at it to see if we wanted to take him to get stitches.
I called husband and immediately sent him to daycare to pick up the kids. We live a long way from daycare, so I spent about an hour nibbling my nails and worrying about what kind of condition KJ’s chin might be in. I couldn’t work at all during that hour. All I could think about was what his face was going to look like and how were we – people without any medical training (umm, and with me being approximately 40 miles away) – going to determine whether KJ needed stitches if a nurse could not.
When Husband got to daycare and finally got a look at KJ’s chin he called me. “It’s not too bad,” he said. “I’m taking them home.” Despite not being able to see KJ’s actual injury, I immediately second guessed Husband’s decision. After all, if the nurse couldn’t tell if KJ needed stitches, how was Husband making such a quick decision? I asked a million questions about the cut. The size, the depth, the shape, the amount of blood. I asked about the thing he hit his chin on. And Husband answered, somewhat vaguely but probably to the best of his ability. In the end, I begged Husband to stop by the pediatrician on the way home. Just to get their opinion. I told him to tell them his crazy wife made him go. But he stood firm. He did not want to drive the (literally) two miles out of his way for a second opinion. He did not think KJ needed any more medical attention and he was going home. And I had to relent. I was stuck at work, he had to make this parenting decision.
It was a terrible feeling not having any control over a health decision for your kid. I felt like Husband wasn’t taking the cut seriously, and basing his medical opinion on the inconvenience of lugging two kids into the pediatrician’s office. So, I did what any good mom would do. I sent my mom to look at the cut.
Nothing can capture the relief I felt when my mom called me and told me she too, thought KJ wouldn’t need stitches. The cut was a lot larger than Husband had represented to me on the phone, but it wasn’t gaping or bleeding or any of those terrible things that require medical attention. Husband had made the right call.
When I came home from work that night I apologized to Husband for second guessing him. He had acted with KJ in mind, and I should have known he would do the right thing. Husband took it well, and actually said (and I think meant) that it was nice to have my mom as a second opinion. And he said he knew how upset I must have been, imagining the worst without being able to do anything about it. As he put his arms around me to give me a comforting hug, Husband very quietly said, “That’s why they call the dad.”
Karen
But Husband, he is a rock star when it comes to bleeding kids. He can calm the kids down and assess the damage with a cool, calculating eye. In the midst of kid screaming chaos he can make the right call about whether something needs medical attention or not. And generally, he can get everyone back on their merry way. He’s so good at what he does that sometimes he goes back to work and forgets to tell me about it at all.
But today, I was the only parent to call. Husband is on vacation from work this week, and dropped the kids off at daycare so that he could take care of a few projects at home without a bunch of little hands “helping” him. Plus, this is the week that daycare makes those cute homemade Christmas presents for mommy and daddy and I really wanted whatever it was our kids would be making. So, they went to school and daddy went home to work.
But that meant at 1 p.m. today, I got the call from KJ’s teacher. She starts by apologizing for calling me at work, which makes me immediately think KJ has spiked a fever. After all, if KJ were hurt, there would be no need to apologize, right? Every parent would want to know if their kid was hurt, so there wouldn’t be a need to apologize. Fevers are much less threatening. So I start calculating how much time I might have to get to the daycare and get him out before the one hour time limit on sick kids expires. And then I hear her say “blood.” It sinks into me that KJ is hurt, not sick. So much worse.
We’ve had an interesting run with daycare phone calls regarding hurt kids. I’m pretty sure they call Husband every time one of the kids gets injured at school and depending on the severity, they either handle it or he goes there to determine what needs to be done. It’s understandable that daycare only calls one parent. And it’s understandable that they call the on site parent. But since Husband and I don’t communicate during the day, it has caused problems from time to time when I call, say, to check on whether Sweet Pea is eating at school and they mention in passing that they gave her chest compressions when she stopped breathing after her fall today (imagine that freak out).
Today was nowhere near that bad. KJ’s teacher calmly told me that KJ fell climbing up a piece of playground equipment. She honestly told me that none of the teachers saw it, and that KJ did not bring it to their attention. She said that he simply went on playing until one of the teachers noticed blood pouring from his chin. When the teachers realized KJ was hurt, they whisked him away from the playground like the biohazard that he was, and took him to the nurse to determine the extent of the damage.
But then we hit a snag. The nurse wasn’t sure if KJ needed stitches. It wasn’t that KJ wouldn’t let them look at the cut. To the contrary, he was a model patient – he didn’t cry at any point at all. But the cut was in a difficult place, and it was kind hard to tell, so they wanted Husband or I to come look at it to see if we wanted to take him to get stitches.
I called husband and immediately sent him to daycare to pick up the kids. We live a long way from daycare, so I spent about an hour nibbling my nails and worrying about what kind of condition KJ’s chin might be in. I couldn’t work at all during that hour. All I could think about was what his face was going to look like and how were we – people without any medical training (umm, and with me being approximately 40 miles away) – going to determine whether KJ needed stitches if a nurse could not.
When Husband got to daycare and finally got a look at KJ’s chin he called me. “It’s not too bad,” he said. “I’m taking them home.” Despite not being able to see KJ’s actual injury, I immediately second guessed Husband’s decision. After all, if the nurse couldn’t tell if KJ needed stitches, how was Husband making such a quick decision? I asked a million questions about the cut. The size, the depth, the shape, the amount of blood. I asked about the thing he hit his chin on. And Husband answered, somewhat vaguely but probably to the best of his ability. In the end, I begged Husband to stop by the pediatrician on the way home. Just to get their opinion. I told him to tell them his crazy wife made him go. But he stood firm. He did not want to drive the (literally) two miles out of his way for a second opinion. He did not think KJ needed any more medical attention and he was going home. And I had to relent. I was stuck at work, he had to make this parenting decision.
It was a terrible feeling not having any control over a health decision for your kid. I felt like Husband wasn’t taking the cut seriously, and basing his medical opinion on the inconvenience of lugging two kids into the pediatrician’s office. So, I did what any good mom would do. I sent my mom to look at the cut.
Nothing can capture the relief I felt when my mom called me and told me she too, thought KJ wouldn’t need stitches. The cut was a lot larger than Husband had represented to me on the phone, but it wasn’t gaping or bleeding or any of those terrible things that require medical attention. Husband had made the right call.
When I came home from work that night I apologized to Husband for second guessing him. He had acted with KJ in mind, and I should have known he would do the right thing. Husband took it well, and actually said (and I think meant) that it was nice to have my mom as a second opinion. And he said he knew how upset I must have been, imagining the worst without being able to do anything about it. As he put his arms around me to give me a comforting hug, Husband very quietly said, “That’s why they call the dad.”
Karen
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
An Early Christmas Present
As an early Christmas present, Sweet Pea has started potty training herself. That’s right. My not-yet-two-year-old is potty training herself. If I had anything at all to do with it, I’d try to take the credit. But Sweet Pea is doing it (very slowly) all by herself.
It all started about two months ago when out of the blue, Sweet Pea told us she wanted to sit on the potty. Parents who have potty trained a kid know that Sweet Pea’s request was a make-or-break moment: potty training kids go through phases where they love the potty or hate the potty and won’t go on it for anything. We knew that it was important to make Sweet Pea love the potty. So we put her on. We gave her a book to read (to those of you who may visit my home, it is a dedicated bathroom book. Please do not freak out when you see the second, non-bathroom copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar floating around my house). We gave her pape-pape (Sweet Pea’s word for t.p.) to play with. At first, Sweet Pea wasn’t sure. But soon enough, we were down to only one or two diapers a day. Amazing for a twenty month old.
But each and every week we experience a set back: daycare. Daycare isn’t truly equipped for handling a potty training toddler. Sure, the room has an attached, little person bathroom, but it is used primarily for storage. Since most kids move out of the toddler classroom on or about their second birthday, there apparently isn’t much demand for the toddler throne. So the teachers just leave Sweet Pea in diapers.
This situation frustrates me. First, because Sweet Pea is telling us that she has to go – indicating that she has already mastered one of the more difficult parts of potty training. I want to reward her for understanding what her body is telling her. And I want to reward her by letting her use the super-cool, only-big-kids use it potty. She needs the positive reinforcement, because if she doesn’t get it now, it’s going to be super hard to get it back say three months from now when she’s moved to the other classroom that does focus on potty training. And I’m frustrated because it means every Friday we start from scratch with Sweet Pea. If we could just build on the progress instead of having to start over, I’d stand a chance of getting both kids out of diapers in the calendar year 2010. A Christmas-letter worthy accomplishment indeed.
As it stands right now, however, Pampers will continue receiving a large portion of my disposable income for the foreseeable future. With no transition date set in stone and a backlog of kids, Sweet Pea isn’t moving into twos any faster. And, given her impish size, she is more likely to stay in toddlers longer than she otherwise might. So the full-out potty training process will be delayed. But in the meantime, I’m going to make the home potty the fun-est, best, big-girl place you could ever want to be. Daycare might not be excited about the prospect of no diapers, but my wallet is!
Karen
It all started about two months ago when out of the blue, Sweet Pea told us she wanted to sit on the potty. Parents who have potty trained a kid know that Sweet Pea’s request was a make-or-break moment: potty training kids go through phases where they love the potty or hate the potty and won’t go on it for anything. We knew that it was important to make Sweet Pea love the potty. So we put her on. We gave her a book to read (to those of you who may visit my home, it is a dedicated bathroom book. Please do not freak out when you see the second, non-bathroom copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar floating around my house). We gave her pape-pape (Sweet Pea’s word for t.p.) to play with. At first, Sweet Pea wasn’t sure. But soon enough, we were down to only one or two diapers a day. Amazing for a twenty month old.
But each and every week we experience a set back: daycare. Daycare isn’t truly equipped for handling a potty training toddler. Sure, the room has an attached, little person bathroom, but it is used primarily for storage. Since most kids move out of the toddler classroom on or about their second birthday, there apparently isn’t much demand for the toddler throne. So the teachers just leave Sweet Pea in diapers.
This situation frustrates me. First, because Sweet Pea is telling us that she has to go – indicating that she has already mastered one of the more difficult parts of potty training. I want to reward her for understanding what her body is telling her. And I want to reward her by letting her use the super-cool, only-big-kids use it potty. She needs the positive reinforcement, because if she doesn’t get it now, it’s going to be super hard to get it back say three months from now when she’s moved to the other classroom that does focus on potty training. And I’m frustrated because it means every Friday we start from scratch with Sweet Pea. If we could just build on the progress instead of having to start over, I’d stand a chance of getting both kids out of diapers in the calendar year 2010. A Christmas-letter worthy accomplishment indeed.
As it stands right now, however, Pampers will continue receiving a large portion of my disposable income for the foreseeable future. With no transition date set in stone and a backlog of kids, Sweet Pea isn’t moving into twos any faster. And, given her impish size, she is more likely to stay in toddlers longer than she otherwise might. So the full-out potty training process will be delayed. But in the meantime, I’m going to make the home potty the fun-est, best, big-girl place you could ever want to be. Daycare might not be excited about the prospect of no diapers, but my wallet is!
Karen
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Language Star
Today my family lived the inevitable leg of a situation that pretty much sums up how out of control my life feels. A few months ago, KJ’s preschool sent out a notice that they would be offering a language program. For some fee, we could sign our kids up to go to a once-a-week, one hour program where our kids would be immersed in the language of our choice. Having struggled through French in high school, and hearing stories of Husband’s experience with college Spanish, I knew foreign languages would not come easily to our kids. So I asked Husband to look into the cost and get back to me.
Husband is a great guy, but follow through is not his strong suit. I repeatedlynagged followed-up with him about the details of the program. I talked about it with him over dinner. Sent him e-mails. I even called him on his way to pick the kids up from daycare to remind him to pick up the information sheet conveniently located in the daycare’s main office. But every night he came home empty handed.
Then, one day, Husband finally did ask someone about the language program. As it turns out, it was not only out of our price range, but it had also started four weeks earlier (See? I wasn’t kidding about the lack of follow through). We thought that was the end of the language program.
But then weird things started happening. One night, while I was at Walmart with KJ and Sweet Pea, KJ started shouting things in Spanish. Keep in mind that I took French. I had no idea what he was saying. I asked him where he learned Spanish, but being a typical three-year-old, he didn’t answer. So, I started thinking about where he could have learned some Spanish. KJ attends a very diverse preschool. A good portion of the kids speak a second language at home. It was possible he picked up some words from a kid there. Plus his “special friend” (read: girlfriend) comes from a bi-lingual home, and using my best guess, her other language is most likely Spanish. It would make sense if he picked up words from her – they spend tons of time together. Finally, the man who delivers the meals at daycare (and thus enjoys celebrity status) speaks Spanish. I had actually seen him greet the kids in Spanish and tell them the Spanish names for the foods they were eating. In light of all that, it didn’t seem all that weird that KJ knew some Spanish.
Then, one night at dinner I asked KJ how his day was. KJ responded by telling us that he went to the language program that day. “Are you sure?” we asked. Because really, the program was very expensive. It wasn’t likely that they mistakenly took an extra kid. So we asked him who else was in the class, and he named two kids that were actually in his preschool class. We asked him what he learned and he said some word in Spanish. But then we asked him if he left his preschool classroom to go to the language program. And there his story fell apart. KJ said no, he didn’t leave his classroom. Husband and I knew full well that the program took place in a different part of the school. He wasn’t going to the language program if he wasn’t leaving his classroom. It seemed way more likely that KJ mentioned the program because his two friends went to it that day. I suggested to Husband that he talk to KJ’s teacher about it, and didn’t think about it again.
Of course, you know what happens next. Today, weeks after our dinner discussion and over two months since KJ originally broke out the Espanol, daycare approaches Husband and informs him that KJ refused to go to the language class today. Confused, Husband responds that KJ isn’t enrolled in the language program. Turns out, KJ has been going to the program for over two months by mistake. Apparently, someone noted Husband’s tardy inquiry and put KJ on a list to get him in the program ASAP – so ASAP that they didn’t wait for enrollment papers or payment. And while I get this is a sign of a great daycare – after all, it means they understand we working parents might from time to time forget things like enrollment papers or payments for extra-curriculars and still let the kids participate– in this case, it also probably meant we were stuck with KJ in a year-long Spanish program we hadn’t budgeted for (and he apparently didn't like). And, more importantly, it meant that for over two months our kid had been attending a weekly Spanish class and we really had no idea it was happening. I mean, we had some idea, but we didn’t really believe he was going to Spanish class any more than we believe he has “Spiderman eyes.” And we've heard A LOT more about "Spiderman eyes" than we ever heard about Spanish class.
KJ’s brief flirt with Spanish class seems par for the course for me right now. I'm swamped at work and feeling like there is no way I can manage my career and the myriad deadlines that go with being a litigator and the extra-curricular activities for my kids. I already barely make it through the week -- as the kids get more involved in school and sports, I have no idea what I'm going to do.
I'm further daunted by the fact that I'm challenged to do this from afar. As the parent that doesn't work at the company associated with daycare, my direct contact is limited, and I have to account and accommodate for my husband's inability to remember anything relating to the kids in everything that needs to be done. This means texting my husband on the way in to work to remind him to carry the show and tell item from the van to the school, or repeatedly ask him to pick up the papers in the kids' mailboxes.
On days like today, it seems to be an overwhelming task. I already feel spread pretty thin, and I don't know how I'm going to handle things as they get more complex, which they are bound to do. I guess my only hope is that I somehow get better at balancing my work and life. And pray that the unintended outcomes of my shortcomings are always as good as a few Spanish lessons.
Karen
Husband is a great guy, but follow through is not his strong suit. I repeatedly
Then, one day, Husband finally did ask someone about the language program. As it turns out, it was not only out of our price range, but it had also started four weeks earlier (See? I wasn’t kidding about the lack of follow through). We thought that was the end of the language program.
But then weird things started happening. One night, while I was at Walmart with KJ and Sweet Pea, KJ started shouting things in Spanish. Keep in mind that I took French. I had no idea what he was saying. I asked him where he learned Spanish, but being a typical three-year-old, he didn’t answer. So, I started thinking about where he could have learned some Spanish. KJ attends a very diverse preschool. A good portion of the kids speak a second language at home. It was possible he picked up some words from a kid there. Plus his “special friend” (read: girlfriend) comes from a bi-lingual home, and using my best guess, her other language is most likely Spanish. It would make sense if he picked up words from her – they spend tons of time together. Finally, the man who delivers the meals at daycare (and thus enjoys celebrity status) speaks Spanish. I had actually seen him greet the kids in Spanish and tell them the Spanish names for the foods they were eating. In light of all that, it didn’t seem all that weird that KJ knew some Spanish.
Then, one night at dinner I asked KJ how his day was. KJ responded by telling us that he went to the language program that day. “Are you sure?” we asked. Because really, the program was very expensive. It wasn’t likely that they mistakenly took an extra kid. So we asked him who else was in the class, and he named two kids that were actually in his preschool class. We asked him what he learned and he said some word in Spanish. But then we asked him if he left his preschool classroom to go to the language program. And there his story fell apart. KJ said no, he didn’t leave his classroom. Husband and I knew full well that the program took place in a different part of the school. He wasn’t going to the language program if he wasn’t leaving his classroom. It seemed way more likely that KJ mentioned the program because his two friends went to it that day. I suggested to Husband that he talk to KJ’s teacher about it, and didn’t think about it again.
Of course, you know what happens next. Today, weeks after our dinner discussion and over two months since KJ originally broke out the Espanol, daycare approaches Husband and informs him that KJ refused to go to the language class today. Confused, Husband responds that KJ isn’t enrolled in the language program. Turns out, KJ has been going to the program for over two months by mistake. Apparently, someone noted Husband’s tardy inquiry and put KJ on a list to get him in the program ASAP – so ASAP that they didn’t wait for enrollment papers or payment. And while I get this is a sign of a great daycare – after all, it means they understand we working parents might from time to time forget things like enrollment papers or payments for extra-curriculars and still let the kids participate– in this case, it also probably meant we were stuck with KJ in a year-long Spanish program we hadn’t budgeted for (and he apparently didn't like). And, more importantly, it meant that for over two months our kid had been attending a weekly Spanish class and we really had no idea it was happening. I mean, we had some idea, but we didn’t really believe he was going to Spanish class any more than we believe he has “Spiderman eyes.” And we've heard A LOT more about "Spiderman eyes" than we ever heard about Spanish class.
KJ’s brief flirt with Spanish class seems par for the course for me right now. I'm swamped at work and feeling like there is no way I can manage my career and the myriad deadlines that go with being a litigator and the extra-curricular activities for my kids. I already barely make it through the week -- as the kids get more involved in school and sports, I have no idea what I'm going to do.
I'm further daunted by the fact that I'm challenged to do this from afar. As the parent that doesn't work at the company associated with daycare, my direct contact is limited, and I have to account and accommodate for my husband's inability to remember anything relating to the kids in everything that needs to be done. This means texting my husband on the way in to work to remind him to carry the show and tell item from the van to the school, or repeatedly ask him to pick up the papers in the kids' mailboxes.
On days like today, it seems to be an overwhelming task. I already feel spread pretty thin, and I don't know how I'm going to handle things as they get more complex, which they are bound to do. I guess my only hope is that I somehow get better at balancing my work and life. And pray that the unintended outcomes of my shortcomings are always as good as a few Spanish lessons.
Karen
Friday, October 29, 2010
What to Bring?
Ok, this week has been (and will continue to be) treat heaven for A & B. It started last Friday night with Night Eyes at Blank Park Zoo, followed up last night by Trick or Treat night for the Altoona businesses. And Saturday brings Beggar’s Night (which is the Iowa term for trick or treating – hosted the night before Halloween. Yes, I am from Illinois and I am still confused by this!) We had debated on going to Family Halloween at Living History Farms tonight, but the weather and wind is giving us a solid “no.”
But the most concerning issue for this mommy is the Halloween party at daycare. Of course, this means bringing treats. The sign-up sheet went up about 2 weeks ago and I have been pondering what to bring ever since. Who knew so many questions could arise from this simple request? I mean, I am faced with more difficult decisions at work every day, and yet what to bring stumps me? But this simple request makes me wonder:
1. What is every other mommy going to bring?
2. Should I bring something healthy?
3. Or should I bring yummy Snickers?
4. Do I need to avoid peanuts (or any other possible allergy)?
5. How many kids am I supposed to bring for?
6. Would juice boxes be considered a “treat”?
7. Could someone put a reminder on my Outlook calendar for this?
8. What input can A & B give me? (by the way, their ideas were already taken!)
9. Maybe Grandma can make something?
10. I wonder if my Aunt Karen can ship out some of her yummy lemon squares?
11. Maybe I should make something?
So question 11 should make you laugh! First, I am definitely not a fantastic cook. Second, I do not have time on Thursday night to bake up a fresh batch of anything AND make it look cute. Especially when my in-laws are arriving on Friday (and that will probably be a post for next week!).
So in the end, I did what most other working mommies do; I headed to Hy-vee. With A & B’s help, this mommy will be supplying Kool-Aid Jammers (aka juice boxes) and cookies for the party. And I was just happy to have something A & B were excited to bring for their friends. Maybe next time A & B can help me make some treats…
Now, back to simpler questions relating to legal documentation and process flows.
Happy Halloween!
Jean Anne
But the most concerning issue for this mommy is the Halloween party at daycare. Of course, this means bringing treats. The sign-up sheet went up about 2 weeks ago and I have been pondering what to bring ever since. Who knew so many questions could arise from this simple request? I mean, I am faced with more difficult decisions at work every day, and yet what to bring stumps me? But this simple request makes me wonder:
1. What is every other mommy going to bring?
2. Should I bring something healthy?
3. Or should I bring yummy Snickers?
4. Do I need to avoid peanuts (or any other possible allergy)?
5. How many kids am I supposed to bring for?
6. Would juice boxes be considered a “treat”?
7. Could someone put a reminder on my Outlook calendar for this?
8. What input can A & B give me? (by the way, their ideas were already taken!)
9. Maybe Grandma can make something?
10. I wonder if my Aunt Karen can ship out some of her yummy lemon squares?
11. Maybe I should make something?
So question 11 should make you laugh! First, I am definitely not a fantastic cook. Second, I do not have time on Thursday night to bake up a fresh batch of anything AND make it look cute. Especially when my in-laws are arriving on Friday (and that will probably be a post for next week!).
So in the end, I did what most other working mommies do; I headed to Hy-vee. With A & B’s help, this mommy will be supplying Kool-Aid Jammers (aka juice boxes) and cookies for the party. And I was just happy to have something A & B were excited to bring for their friends. Maybe next time A & B can help me make some treats…
Now, back to simpler questions relating to legal documentation and process flows.
Happy Halloween!
Jean Anne
Friday, October 22, 2010
My Secret
I have a secret. Shh…it’s a big one.
If you are a working Mom and or know a working Mom; if you follow JD Moms or other working mother blogs, websites, or magazines you will hear one phrase over and over:
“Working Mom Guilt”.
Ahh, yes “Working Mom Guilt”. Our society mandates that every working Mom have it. We all must feel painfully guilty because we have to work. The second you have a baby and finish maternity leave you are handed the guilt. Have a good day at work…and here don’t forget your guilt!
Working Mom guilt is all around us. A Google search of “Working Mom Guilt” came up with 1,820,000 hits! There are countless websites and support groups which are designed solely to teach working Moms how to cope with the guilt that plagues them.
But I have a secret. Okay here it goes…
“My name is Mandi and I do NOT have working Mommy guilt”.
Yes it is true, I am an anomaly…a working Mom living without the Working Mom guilt society says I must have. This shocks a lot of people when I say this, because most people who know me know my kids are my entire world, they are everything to me. I am the kind of Mom that has no social life because I am always with my kids. So how is it possible that I feel this strong bond to my children but yet don’t feel guilty when I leave them and head to work?
Well the answer is quite simple: I am realistic and humble enough to realize my kids are actually thriving MORE because I work.
My children go to an excellent daycare center. Contrary to public opinion, daycare is not just a place where kids are forced to go, get every disease known to man, and miss their Mommies. Rather, it is truly a school environment. I am amazed how smart my children are because they go to daycare. J can read, write, and color in the lines at the age of 4. H can speak Spanish, count to 100, and knows every animal under the sun, even animals I had no clue even existed…I mean what is a Tapir?
But daycare goes far beyond the educational benefits. My kids do well in a social and group environment. They have learned to function without the protective barrier of Mommy and Daddy. They know how to play well with others and function in the world around them. They’re getting a head start learning to function in our society. And if you think about it… isn’t this what we are actually trying to raise them to do?
I’ve gotten to put the stay at home kids v. daycare kids theory to test three times in my life, during each of my three maternity leaves. Although I loved every minute of being home with my kids, I actually found we’re better off when I work. I think what surprised me the most is that I actually do more with my kids when I work than when I was home on leave. When I was home I would say “Should we go to the park today? No, there’s stuff to do around the house we have plenty of time to do that tomorrow”. So we’d wait and wait until we forgot we even wanted to go. But, when I work I treasure every minute with my kids…if we want to go to the park we’re going to go right now because I don’t know how insane the rest of the week is going to be.
And I’m actually better because I work. When I was home, I would “sweat the small stuff”: the house always had to be clean and organized, laundry had to be done right now etc. I found that I spent more time cleaning and organizing than I did playing with the kids! I was more stressed out about everything in my life. In my working life, I am so short on time that I don’t worry about if I have dusted every picture frame or steam cleaned my counters. Nope it’s a quick Clorox wipe of crumbs at the end of the day and a good dusting whenever company comes by! I simply don’t have the time to stress out about the little things.
I also appreciate the power of the lesson I am teaching my kids. My daughter will be raised to know that a woman can be just as successful as a man and still have an amazing family life. She CAN have it all. My sons are learning that a marriage and parenthood should be a team effort. They don’t have to shoulder the entire load of financially supporting a family and they shouldn’t expect their wives to shoulder the entire load of caring for the children and the house. It’s an equal partnership.
So society, I’m sorry but it is possible to be a working Mom and not feel guilty about it. I’m living proof of that. I don’t think my kids and I are missing out because I work. Sure I have to work harder and shoulder more responsibility. It’s not easy. But the smooth straight road and the bumpy windy road all lead to the same place…and sometimes the windy road can even be more fun!
Mandi
If you are a working Mom and or know a working Mom; if you follow JD Moms or other working mother blogs, websites, or magazines you will hear one phrase over and over:
“Working Mom Guilt”.
Ahh, yes “Working Mom Guilt”. Our society mandates that every working Mom have it. We all must feel painfully guilty because we have to work. The second you have a baby and finish maternity leave you are handed the guilt. Have a good day at work…and here don’t forget your guilt!
Working Mom guilt is all around us. A Google search of “Working Mom Guilt” came up with 1,820,000 hits! There are countless websites and support groups which are designed solely to teach working Moms how to cope with the guilt that plagues them.
But I have a secret. Okay here it goes…
“My name is Mandi and I do NOT have working Mommy guilt”.
Yes it is true, I am an anomaly…a working Mom living without the Working Mom guilt society says I must have. This shocks a lot of people when I say this, because most people who know me know my kids are my entire world, they are everything to me. I am the kind of Mom that has no social life because I am always with my kids. So how is it possible that I feel this strong bond to my children but yet don’t feel guilty when I leave them and head to work?
Well the answer is quite simple: I am realistic and humble enough to realize my kids are actually thriving MORE because I work.
My children go to an excellent daycare center. Contrary to public opinion, daycare is not just a place where kids are forced to go, get every disease known to man, and miss their Mommies. Rather, it is truly a school environment. I am amazed how smart my children are because they go to daycare. J can read, write, and color in the lines at the age of 4. H can speak Spanish, count to 100, and knows every animal under the sun, even animals I had no clue even existed…I mean what is a Tapir?
But daycare goes far beyond the educational benefits. My kids do well in a social and group environment. They have learned to function without the protective barrier of Mommy and Daddy. They know how to play well with others and function in the world around them. They’re getting a head start learning to function in our society. And if you think about it… isn’t this what we are actually trying to raise them to do?
I’ve gotten to put the stay at home kids v. daycare kids theory to test three times in my life, during each of my three maternity leaves. Although I loved every minute of being home with my kids, I actually found we’re better off when I work. I think what surprised me the most is that I actually do more with my kids when I work than when I was home on leave. When I was home I would say “Should we go to the park today? No, there’s stuff to do around the house we have plenty of time to do that tomorrow”. So we’d wait and wait until we forgot we even wanted to go. But, when I work I treasure every minute with my kids…if we want to go to the park we’re going to go right now because I don’t know how insane the rest of the week is going to be.
And I’m actually better because I work. When I was home, I would “sweat the small stuff”: the house always had to be clean and organized, laundry had to be done right now etc. I found that I spent more time cleaning and organizing than I did playing with the kids! I was more stressed out about everything in my life. In my working life, I am so short on time that I don’t worry about if I have dusted every picture frame or steam cleaned my counters. Nope it’s a quick Clorox wipe of crumbs at the end of the day and a good dusting whenever company comes by! I simply don’t have the time to stress out about the little things.
I also appreciate the power of the lesson I am teaching my kids. My daughter will be raised to know that a woman can be just as successful as a man and still have an amazing family life. She CAN have it all. My sons are learning that a marriage and parenthood should be a team effort. They don’t have to shoulder the entire load of financially supporting a family and they shouldn’t expect their wives to shoulder the entire load of caring for the children and the house. It’s an equal partnership.
So society, I’m sorry but it is possible to be a working Mom and not feel guilty about it. I’m living proof of that. I don’t think my kids and I are missing out because I work. Sure I have to work harder and shoulder more responsibility. It’s not easy. But the smooth straight road and the bumpy windy road all lead to the same place…and sometimes the windy road can even be more fun!
Mandi
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)