- Moving With Kids: 23 Can't Miss Tips To Help You Cope - I have way too much firsthand experience with moving, and I've learned a lot through trial and error. Take advantage of all I've learned along the way if you have an upcoming move in your future.
- Top Meal-Planning Apps and Websites For Busy Parents - I've finally gotten an iPhone and discovered the world of meal-planning apps and websites. And I'm on a mission to uncover all the great ones so that I no longer have to struggle with the damn question of "what's for dinner."
- Book Review: Cinderella Ate My Daughter - In her new book, Peggy Orenstein examines the new "girlie-girl culture" and the effect it is having on the young girls of today. While I don't agree with everything Orenstein says, she does provide a powerful look at the issues parents face as we raise our daughters.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Some Shameless Self-Promotion For A Sunday Surf
I've had several posts published over at Parenting Squad recently, so go check them out if you're looking for some Sunday Surfing!
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Disney's New Winnie the Pooh Movie Leaves Much To Be Desired
One of my fondest childhood memories is of my Dad reading Winnie the Pooh stories to my sisters and me before bedtime. It wasn't a nightly occurence, but it was an event routine enough that we always looked forward to it.As children, I don't know that we caught much of the profound wisdom in the simple stories of a boy and his imaginary animal friends, but we loved to hear those stories again and again.
We loved Tigger's exuberance and Pooh's constant befuddlement. We were comforted by Kanga's constant maternal presence, and could totally relate to Roo's equally constant desire to escape from the pouch.
We didn't have any idea of what these characters looked like beyond the sketches we saw in the book, or how they talked beyond the voices our father gave them.
My own children have not been so lucky. Growing up in an age where Disney threatens to invade every aspect of childhood, they haven't had the luxury of reading many books without first being exposed to the Disney versions on TV and film. And even when they do read books first, the movie versions still leave much to be desired.
Sure, it's my fault. I let them watch TV, and I take them to the movies. But is it too much to ask for Disney executives to produce films and shows that do justice to the original texts? The stories of Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin might be the classic tales of childhood imagination and exploration, but there's a lot more to them than that.
When I considered attending college at Webster University, I remember being intrigued by an entire Freshman Seminar centered around A.A. Milne's tales. Maybe those discussions are a bit too deep for the preschool set, but that doesn't mean that they should be discarded entirely. Even Sesame Street is written on more than one level; it can be done.
So this morning, it was with trepidation that I headed to an advance screening of Disney's new Winnie the Pooh movie. My 7 year-old had already proclaimed Pooh to be "too boring and babyish" and decided not to attend, but I had foolishly optimistic expectations for my 3 year-old (and for myself.)
But Disney has owned the rights to author A.A. Milne's characters since 1961. What did I expect? The same company that reduced the incredibly intelligent Winnie the Pooh stories into a sweet, saccharine marketing franchise suitable for decorating gender-neutral nurseries worked its identical "magic" on the movie.
I've read reviews from other parents who find the film to be "sweet" in its simplicity, and think it is great for toddlers. Me? I found it mind-numbingly boring. Even my son kept telling me that there "aren't very many funny parts."
A children's book that doubles as a college text and all Disney could pull out of it was some overplayed theme about putting your friends before yourself? Yes, the film was true to the original characters and stories (which is more than you can say for the utterly bizarre Playhouse Disney's My Friends Tigger and Pooh), but it could have been so much more.
After leaving the theatre, all I could think was what a wonderful film I could have been watching, if only somebody besides Disney had gotten their hands on those rights so many years ago.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Go The F*** To Sleep: What's Charlie Chaplin Got To Do With It?
Charlie Chaplin famously once said that "life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long shot."
Go The F*** To Sleep illustrates this perfectly.
After I posted my original thoughts about the book, I read Amy Sohn's essay Could A Mom Have Written Go The F*** To Sleep? Sohn raises a lot of valid points about how harshly (and I would argue unnecessarily) our society judges women who complain about the difficulties of parenting, and isn't wrong when she points out that "the bar for paternal involvement" [in both bedtime routines and the lives of children in general] is much lower.
I had planned to expound on that post here, but I really think you're better served reading her thoughts yourself. Besides, what particularly intrigues me about Go The F*** to Sleep now is the discourse that's taking place among parents over whether or not the book is really funny.
Go The F*** To Sleep illustrates this perfectly.
After I posted my original thoughts about the book, I read Amy Sohn's essay Could A Mom Have Written Go The F*** To Sleep? Sohn raises a lot of valid points about how harshly (and I would argue unnecessarily) our society judges women who complain about the difficulties of parenting, and isn't wrong when she points out that "the bar for paternal involvement" [in both bedtime routines and the lives of children in general] is much lower.
I had planned to expound on that post here, but I really think you're better served reading her thoughts yourself. Besides, what particularly intrigues me about Go The F*** to Sleep now is the discourse that's taking place among parents over whether or not the book is really funny.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Go The F*** To Sleep: My Thoughts, Part 1
My first baby didn't believe in sleep.
In fact, I'm absolutely convinced that she slept in 20 minute-increments for the first 6 months of her life. And even as she got older, and slept for longer periods of time once I finally got her to go to sleep, she still fought naptime and bedtime as if her life depended on it.
She just wasn't a baby who needed a lot of sleep, and she was not about to let anybody else tell her when she was tired. Even if her mother was a walking zombie for the first 2 years of her life.
Now, of course, at age 7, she sleeps like a rock (once she's been convinvced that bedtime has arrived and is, in fact, non-negotiable).
And I was blessed with a second child who loves his sleep and drags me to the bedroom in the evening if I keep him up too late. Small miracles.
Which is not to say that he wasn't a typical baby/toddler who would sometimes be randomly awake at 3 A.M. leaving me wanting to scream "Go the f*** to sleep!!"
Just as I had wanted to scream at his sister.
So when I first heard about Adam Mansbach's new book, aptly titled Go The F*** To Sleep, I knew I was going to find it hilarious.
It looks like a children's book, and reads like a children's book.
Please note: it is NOT a children's book.
Listen to the audio version for yourself.
So what do you think? Are you falling off your chair laughing?
Or do you have concerns?
My first reaction to Go The F*** To Sleep was that it's pretty f***ing brilliant. I mean, it's funny because it's true, and comedy is, after all, only tragedy made bearable.
I think that we as parents appreciate the book so much because it voices some of our darkest thoughts out loud, and allows us to breathe a collective sigh of relief as we realize that we aren't completely alone in our occasional desperation.
If anything, we're normal to have these fleeting thoughts.
Some bloggers, though, like Greek Momma, have suggested that parents need to just "grow the f*** up," and that the tone of the book completely belittles the child and fails to realize and accommodate his needs. That parents who think this is funny are just being selfish, or more dangerously, "hiding their anger under a veil of humor or sarcasm."
Point taken. And there's probably some validity to it.
But Go The F*** To Sleep isn't even remotely a how-to book or parenting manual. If anything, it's a cathartic release for parents who are struggling to contain their darker impulses. I just don't see laughing at this book as hiding your anger. If anything, I see the laughter as one more coping mechanism in our parenting arsenal.
Our laughter doesn't mean that we don't care about our own children, or that we don't try to determine the very real reasons why they can't sleep when this drama plays out in our own homes. But it does mean that we're only human. And that we can appreciate the desire to make it all go away for just a few hours.
Parenting is an exhausting, life-altering journey that threatens to sap every ounce of energy that we possess. Most of us give and give and give to our children. We make a habit of forgetting about ourselves.
It isn't passive-aggressive to occasionally think negative thoughts, or to desperately wish that our children would go to sleep and leave us with a few minutes peace. It's normal.
Sure, we probably shouldn't act on it. I'm not suggesting that we should actually be the parents who say these words to our children.
But I say that we can sure as hell go ahead and laugh about it.
Because if we don't laugh, we just might have to f***ing cry.
**************************************************
After I finished this post, I came across an interesting article at Babble in which Amy Sohn suggests that the reaction to Go The F*** To Sleep would have been entirely different had the book been written by a woman. She makes some excellent points, so I'm going to have to revisit this post with a Part 2.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Note To Expectant Moms: Take The Damn Childbirth Education Classes
I try not to be judgemental. I really do.
But, sometimes, it's harder than others.
Case in point: an article that appeared yesterday in the Los Angeles Times reporting on a new study that has found that "pregnant women show an amazing lack of knowledge about childbirth options."
According to the article, fewer than 30% of the 1,318 first-time mothers who participated in the study attended any type of prenatal childbirth education classes.
Many of these women claimed to have read books and done research on the Internet, but they were still unble to answer basic questions about common procedures and interventions such as episiotomies, epidurals, and cesareans.
They "appear to be quietly following whatever advice the doctor or midwife recommends," states author Shari Roan.
My question is why.
Why are so many women ducking out on what could easily be the most important education of their lives?
I've heard all the jokes about what a waste of time those silly classes are, and how all you really need is a good anesthesiologist. Okay, point taken. A lot of women don't really want to know anything about what's going to happen once they've been assured that they can get the good drugs.
But the United States ranks an astounding 50th in the world when it comes to maternal mortality. This means that there are 49 other countries where a mother giving birth is less likely to die from the experience.
And at least half of the maternal deaths occurring in our country are considered preventable.
Preventable.
As in, these women shouldn't be dying.
What I take away from this data is not that we can't trust our doctors and midwives, but that we have to advocate for and protect ourselves. We have to know what is going on.
And education is the key.
As mothers, most of us aren't doctors or midwives. We won't ever reach their level of training and expertise. But, unlike most other procedures that take place in a hospital, childbirth isn't always a medical event.
It isn't even a procedure.
It's something that is intensely personal and unique for each woman. Educating yourself about your options and addressing your questions and concerns beforehand is an important part of the process.
Of course you can and should trust your care provider, but how do you know which ones you can trust when you have no knowledge of childbirth? Having a baby isn't a one-size-fits-all kind of a deal. There are lots of different beliefs and theories, and providers differ drastically.
You can't automatically trust that someone is the right person to see you through the birth of your baby just because they have a few credentials. There's a lot more to it than that.
Didn't somebody once say that if you don't know your options you don't have any?
First-time moms, I know it's overwhelming. But I implore you, take a childbirth education class. Don't just sign up for the one at the hospital. Do some research. Visit websites. Ask friends or on message boards.
Find a class that fits your budget, your schedule, and your philosophy. Take your partner with you. And, most importantly, keep an open mind.
After all, this is your life we're talking about.
***********************************************************
For more on the subject of childbirth, check out my posts at Parenting Squad:
And if you're in St. Louis, a couple of places to start your search for the childbirth education classes that are right for you:
But, sometimes, it's harder than others.
Case in point: an article that appeared yesterday in the Los Angeles Times reporting on a new study that has found that "pregnant women show an amazing lack of knowledge about childbirth options."
According to the article, fewer than 30% of the 1,318 first-time mothers who participated in the study attended any type of prenatal childbirth education classes.
Many of these women claimed to have read books and done research on the Internet, but they were still unble to answer basic questions about common procedures and interventions such as episiotomies, epidurals, and cesareans.
They "appear to be quietly following whatever advice the doctor or midwife recommends," states author Shari Roan.
My question is why.
Why are so many women ducking out on what could easily be the most important education of their lives?
I've heard all the jokes about what a waste of time those silly classes are, and how all you really need is a good anesthesiologist. Okay, point taken. A lot of women don't really want to know anything about what's going to happen once they've been assured that they can get the good drugs.
But the United States ranks an astounding 50th in the world when it comes to maternal mortality. This means that there are 49 other countries where a mother giving birth is less likely to die from the experience.
And at least half of the maternal deaths occurring in our country are considered preventable.
Preventable.
As in, these women shouldn't be dying.
What I take away from this data is not that we can't trust our doctors and midwives, but that we have to advocate for and protect ourselves. We have to know what is going on.
And education is the key.
As mothers, most of us aren't doctors or midwives. We won't ever reach their level of training and expertise. But, unlike most other procedures that take place in a hospital, childbirth isn't always a medical event.
It isn't even a procedure.
It's something that is intensely personal and unique for each woman. Educating yourself about your options and addressing your questions and concerns beforehand is an important part of the process.
Of course you can and should trust your care provider, but how do you know which ones you can trust when you have no knowledge of childbirth? Having a baby isn't a one-size-fits-all kind of a deal. There are lots of different beliefs and theories, and providers differ drastically.
You can't automatically trust that someone is the right person to see you through the birth of your baby just because they have a few credentials. There's a lot more to it than that.
Didn't somebody once say that if you don't know your options you don't have any?
First-time moms, I know it's overwhelming. But I implore you, take a childbirth education class. Don't just sign up for the one at the hospital. Do some research. Visit websites. Ask friends or on message boards.
Find a class that fits your budget, your schedule, and your philosophy. Take your partner with you. And, most importantly, keep an open mind.
After all, this is your life we're talking about.
***********************************************************
For more on the subject of childbirth, check out my posts at Parenting Squad:
And if you're in St. Louis, a couple of places to start your search for the childbirth education classes that are right for you:
- BirthSource
- Bradley Method of Natural Childbirth
- Birthworks International
- Doulas of Greater St. Louis (many are childbirth educators themselves, or will provide recommendations)
- Babymoon Boutique
- Birth Connections Community Center
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Brief Review: Amy Chua's "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother"
When I finally got my hands on a copy of Amy Chua's Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, I was surprised to find that it was nothing like what I expected.
I may be about as far from being a so-called "tiger mom" as a woman can possibly be, but I found myself oddly inspired by Chua.
Yes, the woman has impossibly high standards -- for her daughters, herself, and for parents everywhere. But why is that a bad thing?
Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is a book about Chua's personal journey of introspection and self discovery. But, through her own story, Chua is no doubt challenging the rest of us to step up our own game as well. She isn't telling us to ban sleepovers or drill violin as if our lives depended on it, but she is asking us to take a good, hard look at our own children, and to ask ourselves if we're really raising them as we should be.
After finishing the book, I had two thoughts.
One, that Chua was too strict with her girls, and that I don't think her parenting methods were always the most beneficial.
Two, that I am too lenient with my own children, and that a lot of my parenting methods (or fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants non-methods, to be more accurate) probably aren't the most beneficial either.
And I think that may have been the point that Chua was really trying to make (and if not, well, that's the point I took away from the book). She wasn't saying that Chinese parenting is better than Western parenting, but she was saying that we as parents have an obligation to do our very best to prepare our children to face an uncertain world.
We may not agree with Chua's ideas about the right way to prepare them, but I think we can all agree that it needs to be done. Take a close look at your own children, and your own parenting methods. Where can you stand to improve?
It might not be easy for any of us to look so closely at our own flaws and shortcomings, but Amy Chua is right.
Our children deserve it.
Monday, June 6, 2011
8 Reasons Why I Love Summer Vacation (Or Why I Really Should Be A Homeschool Mom)
I'll admit it. I waste too much time reading parenting blogs.
But technically, since, I get paid to blog about various parenting topics myself, I like to classify the large blocks of time I spend surfing the Internet as "work."
I'm actually researching trends and keeping my finger on the pulse of all the hot topics and daily controversies in the parenting world ...
It sounds good, at least, right?
Parents Fear Summer Vacation?
In the past few weeks while I've been busy researching, I've come across several blog posts and articles by moms (and a few dads) bemoaning the fact that summer vacation has arrived.
"What will I do with my kids home every day?"
"How do I entertain them?"
"Help! Find me the nearest full-day camp!"
Blogs and magazines are full of tips for how to keep your kids busy and ways to avoid tearing your hair out. On one hand, I totally get it, and I sympathize. School provides a welcome break from the tedium that is child-rearing, and summer break signals an almost inevitable explosion in whining, fighting, and that damned sibling rivalry.
But on the other hand, I must be wired differently. Because, despite the drawbacks, I am totally psyched about summer vacation. We're only one week in at our house, and I'm already in absolute heaven.
I think summer vacation is awesome. Here's why.
8 Reasons Why I Love Summer Vacation
1. No schedules.
I'm NOT a Type-A sort of person, so the whole get everyone up by 7:50 and out the door 30 minutes later isn't really my cup of tea. I hate having to wake up my kids (or get out of bed myself) after a late night just because school starts at 8:45 on the dot and the tardy slips are ready and waiting. During the school year, your whole day seems to be dictated by drop-off and pick-up times, and you never seem to be able to escape the clock.
During the summer, you can come and go as you like. If your kids stay up late, they can sleep in late too. If you end up going to the grocery store at 3:25, you don't have to race through to make sure you're back at school by 3:40. You don't have to fight to impose the early bedtime that is necessary so they can get up for school, and bedtime doesn't dictate dinner time.
You can shop when you like, and eat when you like, and sleep when you like.
Summer really is a beautiful thing.
2. More free time.
School isn't the only thing that keeps you busy during the school year. All the sports teams, and dance classes, and scout troops, and school plays, and activities keep you running in circles if youlet them. Summer may not mean the end of everything, but it almost always means you can find a little more time to relax and do whatever you want.
3. I'm in charge.
I may not be Type-A, but I'll admit to being a bit of a control freak, particularly when it comes to who's in charge of my kids (and me). And apparently I'm not the only one.
Stephanie O'Dea (author of the popular 365 Crockpot Blog) had this to say in a post she wrote about How To Stop the Summer Brain Drain.
4. Less stress for everybody (especially mom).
No lunches to pack. No "school" clothes to constantly put through the laundry. Less pressure. The minute school ended last week, I could instantly feel a giant weight lifted from my shoulders. I get to be more relaxed, which means we all have more fun.
What's that saying? "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy?"
5. Different (and dare I say better) educational opportunities.
During the school year, kids get so busy with actual school that they often don't have a lot of time to pursue other educational opportunities. Summer means swimming lessons, leisurely days spent reading and visiting the library, and the opportunity to participate in all types of camps and classes, from sports and space camps to academic and acting camps.
Trips to fun and educational places like the zoo or local farms or science centers are also a lot easier to plan during the summer months. And as a parent, you also have the option of buying some workbooks or planning activities to help your child with some of their personal weaknesses or particular areas of interest.
If your children love science, do some science experiments. If they need handwriting practice, hit the school supply store and get to work!
6. Good, old-fashioned fun.
Children need to play. Play is part of how they learn. But many schools these days limit recess, and kids spend hours on end sitting at their desk. Yes, you'll hear the "I'm bored" chorus, but some educational experts actually believe that this is a good thing.
Kim John Payne, author of the book Simplicity Parenting, believes that bored kids are really kids on the verge of discovery. He suggests that our children have entirely too much stimulation in their lives, and that time and space for simple, creative play is all they truly need.
7. A cleaner house.
I know it doesn't make sense, but I swear my house is cleaner in the summer. Maybe it's because there are fewer papers spilling out of a backpack on a daily basis, or because we spend so much time outside instead of indoors making a mess, or because there's actually more time to clean when school and homework are out of the way.
8. Time to connect.
A good friend of mine recently complained that, during the school year, she rarely has the opportunity to spend quality time with her daughter. "It's just maintenance," she stated, and I totally got what she meant.
We get so busy telling them to do their homework and finish their breakfast and hurry up and get in the car that we don't have time to just be with our kids and enjoy their company. Summer is a great time to connect with our children on a deeper level, even if that just means chilling on the couch, without all the constraints that a busy school year brings.
Do you love summer vacation? Or do you prefer having your kids go to school? Do you find it hard to entertain them and enjoy them when they're home all day every day?
But technically, since, I get paid to blog about various parenting topics myself, I like to classify the large blocks of time I spend surfing the Internet as "work."
I'm actually researching trends and keeping my finger on the pulse of all the hot topics and daily controversies in the parenting world ...
It sounds good, at least, right?
Parents Fear Summer Vacation?
In the past few weeks while I've been busy researching, I've come across several blog posts and articles by moms (and a few dads) bemoaning the fact that summer vacation has arrived.
"What will I do with my kids home every day?"
"How do I entertain them?"
"Help! Find me the nearest full-day camp!"
Blogs and magazines are full of tips for how to keep your kids busy and ways to avoid tearing your hair out. On one hand, I totally get it, and I sympathize. School provides a welcome break from the tedium that is child-rearing, and summer break signals an almost inevitable explosion in whining, fighting, and that damned sibling rivalry.
But on the other hand, I must be wired differently. Because, despite the drawbacks, I am totally psyched about summer vacation. We're only one week in at our house, and I'm already in absolute heaven.
I think summer vacation is awesome. Here's why.
8 Reasons Why I Love Summer Vacation
1. No schedules.
I'm NOT a Type-A sort of person, so the whole get everyone up by 7:50 and out the door 30 minutes later isn't really my cup of tea. I hate having to wake up my kids (or get out of bed myself) after a late night just because school starts at 8:45 on the dot and the tardy slips are ready and waiting. During the school year, your whole day seems to be dictated by drop-off and pick-up times, and you never seem to be able to escape the clock.
During the summer, you can come and go as you like. If your kids stay up late, they can sleep in late too. If you end up going to the grocery store at 3:25, you don't have to race through to make sure you're back at school by 3:40. You don't have to fight to impose the early bedtime that is necessary so they can get up for school, and bedtime doesn't dictate dinner time.
You can shop when you like, and eat when you like, and sleep when you like.
Summer really is a beautiful thing.
2. More free time.
School isn't the only thing that keeps you busy during the school year. All the sports teams, and dance classes, and scout troops, and school plays, and activities keep you running in circles if youlet them. Summer may not mean the end of everything, but it almost always means you can find a little more time to relax and do whatever you want.
3. I'm in charge.
I may not be Type-A, but I'll admit to being a bit of a control freak, particularly when it comes to who's in charge of my kids (and me). And apparently I'm not the only one.
Stephanie O'Dea (author of the popular 365 Crockpot Blog) had this to say in a post she wrote about How To Stop the Summer Brain Drain.
"I'm greatly looking forward to having the kids home with me when school lets out. No matter how involved I am in the school, during the school year, Adam and I are not in charge. The teacher is. I wish I could say this doesn't bother me, but I'd be lying. The school calendar dominates our day-to-day life, and I'm looking forward to getting a more natural flow to our days."Yes, yes, and yes.
4. Less stress for everybody (especially mom).
No lunches to pack. No "school" clothes to constantly put through the laundry. Less pressure. The minute school ended last week, I could instantly feel a giant weight lifted from my shoulders. I get to be more relaxed, which means we all have more fun.
What's that saying? "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy?"
5. Different (and dare I say better) educational opportunities.
During the school year, kids get so busy with actual school that they often don't have a lot of time to pursue other educational opportunities. Summer means swimming lessons, leisurely days spent reading and visiting the library, and the opportunity to participate in all types of camps and classes, from sports and space camps to academic and acting camps.
Trips to fun and educational places like the zoo or local farms or science centers are also a lot easier to plan during the summer months. And as a parent, you also have the option of buying some workbooks or planning activities to help your child with some of their personal weaknesses or particular areas of interest.
If your children love science, do some science experiments. If they need handwriting practice, hit the school supply store and get to work!
6. Good, old-fashioned fun.
Children need to play. Play is part of how they learn. But many schools these days limit recess, and kids spend hours on end sitting at their desk. Yes, you'll hear the "I'm bored" chorus, but some educational experts actually believe that this is a good thing.
Kim John Payne, author of the book Simplicity Parenting, believes that bored kids are really kids on the verge of discovery. He suggests that our children have entirely too much stimulation in their lives, and that time and space for simple, creative play is all they truly need.
7. A cleaner house.
I know it doesn't make sense, but I swear my house is cleaner in the summer. Maybe it's because there are fewer papers spilling out of a backpack on a daily basis, or because we spend so much time outside instead of indoors making a mess, or because there's actually more time to clean when school and homework are out of the way.
8. Time to connect.
A good friend of mine recently complained that, during the school year, she rarely has the opportunity to spend quality time with her daughter. "It's just maintenance," she stated, and I totally got what she meant.
We get so busy telling them to do their homework and finish their breakfast and hurry up and get in the car that we don't have time to just be with our kids and enjoy their company. Summer is a great time to connect with our children on a deeper level, even if that just means chilling on the couch, without all the constraints that a busy school year brings.
Do you love summer vacation? Or do you prefer having your kids go to school? Do you find it hard to entertain them and enjoy them when they're home all day every day?
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Sunday Surfing Again: Kindergarten Controversy, Jello Shots, and More From the Mommy Wars
As usual, there are many interesting discssions taking place in the parenting world this week. Here are just a few that I think are worth reading about.
- Lisa Belkin at The New York Times Motherlode blog writes about the issue of redshirting, in light of the recent decision made by the state of Connecticut to consider changing its cutoff date to keep 4 year-olds out of kindergarten. The age at which children start kindergarten has never been without controversy, but the topic always makes for an interesting debate where issues of academic vs. emotional preparedness, gender differences, and socioeconmic inequalities come into play.
- It's only May, but 2011 has already been hailed as the Deadliest Year For Twisters Since 1950. It may not be the best time to live in tornado alley, but at least we can do our part to help, and take the opportunity to teach our children about the importance of helping those in need. You can donate items like clothing, toys, and toiletries at many local St. Louis malls, or check out articles like Ways Kids Can Assist Tornado Victims for more ideas.
- A post from Amy at Just West of Crunchy found tremendous popularity on Facebook and Twitter. Top 10 Things Breastfeeding Advocates Should Stop Saying seems to have hit a nerve among both breastfeeding and formula-feeding moms everywhere ...
- The FDA is seizing birth pools, for reasons that are a complete mystery to me. But if you're interested in having a home water birth in the future, you may have to use your bath tub or invest in a kiddie pool from Toys R Us (which I've actually heard is a great option). At first, I thought this was just an internet rumor, but it appears that Barbara Harper (founder of Waterbirth International) is involved, so I think the story is legitimate.
- And last, but definitely not least, I have three words to kick off your Memorial Day celebration: Strawberry Jello Shots. As in, jello shots that you make inside of fresh strawberries. The pictures of these things over at My Thirty Spot (my new favorite non-mom blog now that I have officially accepted my status as a thirtysomething) are absolutely mouthwatering. Seriously. Go. Read. Make. You won't be disappointed.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
My Social Media Meltdown: Can An Introverted Writer Conquer The Internet?
I am, without question, an introvert. I'm not the life of the party (well, unless there are several margaritas involved), I'm not the one organizing playdates and mom's nights out, and I'm not the one chatting up somebody I've never met at the park just because our kids look to be about the same age.
If I don't know you, I'm probably not going to talk to you.
It's nothing personal, it's just my nature. It's not that I don't want to talk to you or get to know you, it's just that I find the whole putting myself out there thing kind of exhausting.
And it turns out that I'm not the only one who feels this way.
What Is An Introvert?
Dictionary.com defines an introvert as a "reserved or shy person."
According to the Myers-Briggs' definition, an "introvert derives energy from his or her internal world of emotions and ideas, while an extrovert draws from the outside world of people and activities for spiritual sustenance."
I even found one site that described an introvert as a person who "is drained by social interaction."
Is that me? Um, yes. Check, check, check. And a lot of other people too.
The Introverted Writer
Writing has, historically, been an excellent profession for introverts. As a writer, it used to be that you were left alone with your own thoughts and ideas. You didn't have to converse with other people or listen to what they had to say in order to put your own thoughts on paper. I know, paper, right?
You could publish what you wrote in a magazine or a book and then let your work go, let your voice float around the world without ever having to truly engage with the people who heard it.
The beauty of the system was that you could say what you wanted to say without ever really having to talk to anybody.
Or at least maybe that's how it used to be.
Apparently, it's not like that any more.
Online Writing And The Rise of Social Media
I've discovered recently that writing is not just about writing any more. Maybe it never really was, but I can't help but think that the rise of socia media has fundamentally changed the writing profession to the point that it isn't so introvert-friendly.
These days, you have to aggressively market yourself and your work through every available social media outlet - Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, YouTube and I'm sure others that I don't even know exist.
You have to interact with "friends" and readers on a daily basis, posing questions, responding to their thoughts on your work, and constantly trying to cultivate an interesting image that's going to keep people coming back for more.
As writer and media consultant Lela Davidson writes in her post Social Media: Not Just For Social Butterflies:
"if you’re working online at all, or offline for that matter, and you’re not using social media you’re going to be left behind."
For introverts, social media is problematic on a number of levels.
Case in point: me.
I enjoy writing about many different aspects of parenting. I've written blog posts on a variety of topics and in a variety of styles, from simple how-to posts like How To Hold A Family Meeting to informative posts on hot parenting topics like Disney Develops New Marketing Campaign Aimed At Newborns to opinion pieces like Report Cards For Parents? No Way! and The 3 Things Pregnant Women Need More Than A Birth Plan.
But whether I enjoy writing, or write well, is largely irrelevant these days. Because online writing is all about getting people to read what you've written, and, thus far, I haven't managed to market my writing, or myself, very well.
I should be sharing everything I write with all my friends on Facebook, and seeking out new contacts via Twitter. I should really upload a picture so people can see what I look like. I should be putting it all out there.
I should be the social butterfly that goes against everything that is my nature.
Sure, the constant social interaction might be draining, but it might also be a positive step in coming out of my shell and facing the world head on.
So, if you want to follow me on Twitter, I'm @stlouismartmama. I promise there will be a picture soon. And I'm also thinking that there will be an upcoming post here on social media for introverts, as I wade out into the water and figure out how to take advantage of all that social media has to offer.
Ten Steps To Embracing Social Media For The Socially Challenged, maybe?
I'm thinking it will start with a tip to invest in a few bottles of vodka or tequila to get the party started.
Or would a drunk social butterfly be a bad thing?
Photo credit: sahlgoode/Flickr
Thursday, April 21, 2011
The Easter Birthday (Or Why I'm Forever Grateful That I Haven't Given Birth on December 25th)
I have an April birthday, which means that there is always the possibility that, if the moon and the stars align just right, my birthday might actually fall on Easter Sunday. Growing up, I thought this would be the coolest thing ever.
In retrospect, I have no idea why, but as a kid it was always a big deal to me to check the calendar at the start of a new year, and each year I was disappointed.
There was one year that my birthday was the day before Easter, but it wasn't quite the same high I was convinced you could achieve from celebrating the day of my birth and a giant fake bunny and the day Jesus rose from the dead all in one day.
Apparently, ten-year-old me thought that would have been way cool.
Then I grew up and realized that special days are rare, and sometimes birthdays just suck, and there's really no reason to combine what might be an already crappy day with the stress of a holiday where you've got kids who are in total sugar shock and family members on both sides who are pissed because you spent too much time with the other side of the family.
I don't have issues surrounding the holidays or dealing with family or anything . . .
But the universe always has a plan. And in some cosmic twist of fate, I ended up with a daughter who has an April birthday too.
And this year that birthday falls on Easter.
Not the day before, or the day after -- it's smack dab in the middle of Easter Sunday.
She, of course, thinks this is the coolest thing ever, and can't wait for extra birthday presents from the Easter Bunny and the special awesomeness that can come only from a day so glorious that you could actually load jelly beans and Cadbury eggs atop your birthday cake if you wanted.
One might say that I can live vicariously, as we parents tend to do through our children, and maybe mothers especially through our daughters. Maybe I could, if I could step back, and breathe, and enjoy the simple things in life the way she is still able to do.
I want to revel in the anticipation, and share her giddy excitement over the lottery she thinks she has won.
It's just easier said than done.
Because I'm the one drowning in the details of determining which presents are birthday presents and which ones are Easter basket presents and which ones are Easter bunny birthday presents and which family will we celebrate with and who is making dinner when and how many damn birthday cakes do we need.
Sure, if I stop for a moment, I can step back and see that these are minor things (as my husband so annnoyingly points out) and that they aren't really earth-shattering problems to have. But they're also things that have to get done, and I'm the one doing the doing.
Equality parenting my ass.
So I'm in an Easter/birthday/PMS/too-busy-to-help-husband-induced funk this week, and, yes, I'm wallowing. I'm also relying on the help of an occasional glass of wine or three or four.
The good news is that I'm fairly certain that I can get everything finished and pull myself out of my funk in time for the actual big day.
I would like to genuinely enjoy what promises to be a very special day for my daughter, and for the fun-loving ten-year-old who is buried deep inside me.
I know she's in there, trying to get through to me and remind me to get out of my own way and remember that the simplest pleasures can be the most exciting of all. I'm pretty sure she would tell me not to make life more complicated than it actually is -- the problem being that she doesn't realize that making life more complicated than it should be is the very definition of being a grown-up.
If I can actually listen to her, though, this Easter/birthday thing promises to be pretty cool after all, once the preparation is over and the details are ironed out. It's most likely a once-in-a-lifetime thing, so we're gonna make the most of it.
A Christmas birthday, on the other hand, ack!!
Every? Single? Year?
Not even my inner-ten-year old could get me through that one.
***********************************************
On a slightly related note, if you're looking to fill your kids' Easter baskets with at least some items that won't send them into sugar shock, check out my post 50 Candy-Free Ideas For Easter Baskets over at Parenting Squad!
In retrospect, I have no idea why, but as a kid it was always a big deal to me to check the calendar at the start of a new year, and each year I was disappointed.
There was one year that my birthday was the day before Easter, but it wasn't quite the same high I was convinced you could achieve from celebrating the day of my birth and a giant fake bunny and the day Jesus rose from the dead all in one day.
Apparently, ten-year-old me thought that would have been way cool.
Then I grew up and realized that special days are rare, and sometimes birthdays just suck, and there's really no reason to combine what might be an already crappy day with the stress of a holiday where you've got kids who are in total sugar shock and family members on both sides who are pissed because you spent too much time with the other side of the family.
I don't have issues surrounding the holidays or dealing with family or anything . . .
But the universe always has a plan. And in some cosmic twist of fate, I ended up with a daughter who has an April birthday too.
And this year that birthday falls on Easter.
Not the day before, or the day after -- it's smack dab in the middle of Easter Sunday.
She, of course, thinks this is the coolest thing ever, and can't wait for extra birthday presents from the Easter Bunny and the special awesomeness that can come only from a day so glorious that you could actually load jelly beans and Cadbury eggs atop your birthday cake if you wanted.
One might say that I can live vicariously, as we parents tend to do through our children, and maybe mothers especially through our daughters. Maybe I could, if I could step back, and breathe, and enjoy the simple things in life the way she is still able to do.
I want to revel in the anticipation, and share her giddy excitement over the lottery she thinks she has won.
It's just easier said than done.
Because I'm the one drowning in the details of determining which presents are birthday presents and which ones are Easter basket presents and which ones are Easter bunny birthday presents and which family will we celebrate with and who is making dinner when and how many damn birthday cakes do we need.
Sure, if I stop for a moment, I can step back and see that these are minor things (as my husband so annnoyingly points out) and that they aren't really earth-shattering problems to have. But they're also things that have to get done, and I'm the one doing the doing.
Equality parenting my ass.
So I'm in an Easter/birthday/PMS/too-busy-to-help-husband-induced funk this week, and, yes, I'm wallowing. I'm also relying on the help of an occasional glass of wine or three or four.
The good news is that I'm fairly certain that I can get everything finished and pull myself out of my funk in time for the actual big day.
I would like to genuinely enjoy what promises to be a very special day for my daughter, and for the fun-loving ten-year-old who is buried deep inside me.
I know she's in there, trying to get through to me and remind me to get out of my own way and remember that the simplest pleasures can be the most exciting of all. I'm pretty sure she would tell me not to make life more complicated than it actually is -- the problem being that she doesn't realize that making life more complicated than it should be is the very definition of being a grown-up.
If I can actually listen to her, though, this Easter/birthday thing promises to be pretty cool after all, once the preparation is over and the details are ironed out. It's most likely a once-in-a-lifetime thing, so we're gonna make the most of it.
A Christmas birthday, on the other hand, ack!!
Every? Single? Year?
Not even my inner-ten-year old could get me through that one.
***********************************************
On a slightly related note, if you're looking to fill your kids' Easter baskets with at least some items that won't send them into sugar shock, check out my post 50 Candy-Free Ideas For Easter Baskets over at Parenting Squad!
Friday, January 14, 2011
Come Visit Me At Parenting Squad!
I started this blog last year in an effort to make some space in my life for myself.
So that I would have something, anything, that was just about me -- and not about my much-loved, but often very demanding (and emotionally draining) husband and children.
Did I really just write that down for all the world to read??? Yes, yes I did. Because it's true. Be honest, aren't your children and your spouse emotionally draining at times too?
I started this blog so that I could have a place to express my opinions on current events and parenting topics that interest me without spouting off to people who don't really care or driving my husband crazy with rants about issues that he really doesn't understand.
And because I realized that most of my Facebook friends could care less about links to articles about childbirth or feminism or mothering, and were probably going to start defriending me if I didn't stop sharing them.
Sharing links that I love via Sunday Surf posts has been one of my favorite parts of writing St. Louis Smart Mama.
I started this blog because I wanted to start writing again.
Because I loved to write when I was in high school and college, and I loved teaching kids about writing when I worked as a teacher and a tutor. But then I had babies and stopped working and I stopped writing too. In retrospect, it was silly. Not that I stopped working, but that I stopped writing. I wish that I had started writing about parenting and motherhood when my daughter was a baby and I was new to the whole gig. It would be interesting to look back and read what I had written from a fresh-eyed, optimistic, new mom perspective.
But I think that I needed time to grow into the role of mother, and to realize that my perspective is valuable and that I can say things that other parents will find helpful and/or interesting. And to learn to not care if people read what I've written and don't agree with me at all and take it upon themselves to tell me how I've done everything wrong.
Which they will do when you blog. Or any time you step out of your house really. It seems that once you're a parent, you're considered fair game for target practice. I hate to burst your bubble, but if you're expecting you might as well just go ahead and paint a big bullseye on your back.
I started this blog as a place to practice writing.
Some of the posts are decent; some of them I don't care for. Some are informational because I wanted to practice writing the types of articles you find in local parenting magazines; a lot of others are rambling, first-person, stream-of-consciousness type narratives where I really don't say much of anything.
When I started blogging, I wasn't really sure what kind of writing I wanted to do. And at this point, St. Louis Smart Mama is still just a random assortment of many different types of posts. I'm very sloooowly working my way towards finding some sort of voice. Am I funny? Informative? Dark? What's my hook that makes people want to read?
I still have no freakin' clue.
But, just by starting this little blog, I found my way to a real freelance job where I get paid to write.
It's not a big job, or a fancy job, or a job where I get to be the high-powered career woman that my high school guidance counselor was convinced I would become. It's not even a job that's going to pay for much more than a cart of groceries every month, but it's an opportunity to do something that I love and be more than just a mom.
That last part is dripping with sarcasm, but no, I'm not going to take the time right now to dissect that phrase and just how much is wrong with it . . .
So if I'm blogging here a bit less, it's because I'm blogging somewhere else a bit more. I hope to continue to write here, too, because it's a great place to shoot my mouth off about opinions that no one really cares about, and because there's lots of great local St. Louis stuff that really deserves to be written about. Stuff that needs to be written about, and I can't say that I've done a very good job thus far.
Where are all the St. Louis mom blogs? Am I missing them? Are they out there? Blogs are such a great way to share information that I wish there were more local ones. If you write one, or if you know of one, please send me the link so that I can follow it and add it to my blogroll.
And if you can't find me here as much, come on over and visit me at Parenting Squad. Today I've got a post up asking Would You Buy Your Child A Doll That Gives Birth?
So that I would have something, anything, that was just about me -- and not about my much-loved, but often very demanding (and emotionally draining) husband and children.
Did I really just write that down for all the world to read??? Yes, yes I did. Because it's true. Be honest, aren't your children and your spouse emotionally draining at times too?
I started this blog so that I could have a place to express my opinions on current events and parenting topics that interest me without spouting off to people who don't really care or driving my husband crazy with rants about issues that he really doesn't understand.
And because I realized that most of my Facebook friends could care less about links to articles about childbirth or feminism or mothering, and were probably going to start defriending me if I didn't stop sharing them.
Sharing links that I love via Sunday Surf posts has been one of my favorite parts of writing St. Louis Smart Mama.
I started this blog because I wanted to start writing again.
Because I loved to write when I was in high school and college, and I loved teaching kids about writing when I worked as a teacher and a tutor. But then I had babies and stopped working and I stopped writing too. In retrospect, it was silly. Not that I stopped working, but that I stopped writing. I wish that I had started writing about parenting and motherhood when my daughter was a baby and I was new to the whole gig. It would be interesting to look back and read what I had written from a fresh-eyed, optimistic, new mom perspective.
But I think that I needed time to grow into the role of mother, and to realize that my perspective is valuable and that I can say things that other parents will find helpful and/or interesting. And to learn to not care if people read what I've written and don't agree with me at all and take it upon themselves to tell me how I've done everything wrong.
Which they will do when you blog. Or any time you step out of your house really. It seems that once you're a parent, you're considered fair game for target practice. I hate to burst your bubble, but if you're expecting you might as well just go ahead and paint a big bullseye on your back.
I started this blog as a place to practice writing.
Some of the posts are decent; some of them I don't care for. Some are informational because I wanted to practice writing the types of articles you find in local parenting magazines; a lot of others are rambling, first-person, stream-of-consciousness type narratives where I really don't say much of anything.
When I started blogging, I wasn't really sure what kind of writing I wanted to do. And at this point, St. Louis Smart Mama is still just a random assortment of many different types of posts. I'm very sloooowly working my way towards finding some sort of voice. Am I funny? Informative? Dark? What's my hook that makes people want to read?
I still have no freakin' clue.
But, just by starting this little blog, I found my way to a real freelance job where I get paid to write.
It's not a big job, or a fancy job, or a job where I get to be the high-powered career woman that my high school guidance counselor was convinced I would become. It's not even a job that's going to pay for much more than a cart of groceries every month, but it's an opportunity to do something that I love and be more than just a mom.
That last part is dripping with sarcasm, but no, I'm not going to take the time right now to dissect that phrase and just how much is wrong with it . . .
So if I'm blogging here a bit less, it's because I'm blogging somewhere else a bit more. I hope to continue to write here, too, because it's a great place to shoot my mouth off about opinions that no one really cares about, and because there's lots of great local St. Louis stuff that really deserves to be written about. Stuff that needs to be written about, and I can't say that I've done a very good job thus far.
Where are all the St. Louis mom blogs? Am I missing them? Are they out there? Blogs are such a great way to share information that I wish there were more local ones. If you write one, or if you know of one, please send me the link so that I can follow it and add it to my blogroll.
And if you can't find me here as much, come on over and visit me at Parenting Squad. Today I've got a post up asking Would You Buy Your Child A Doll That Gives Birth?
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Sunday Surf: Thanksgiving Edition
Since it's been a busy Thanksgiving weekend, my Sunday Surf this week is short and sweet. I'm sure you've got more doorbuster sales to hit anyway, right?
- My very favoritest (it can be a word, yes?) post of the week comes from the blog Mama Birth. The post Humbling Moment #547: Women With More Than One Child Are Not Actually Crazy is an absolute laugh-out-loud, must-read about the things we learn when our family keeps growing. There are plenty of days when I'm absolutely convinced that my second kid is hell-bent on making me lose my mind completely, so it's nice to hear that other moms have trouble keeping their shit together, too.
- The Healthy Food and Healthy Living blog by Dr. Ayala is always interesting, but her recent post On Happiness, and Being In the Moment was one that really resonated with me. Our world is so busy and complicated and everyone always seems to be in a hurry and wanting to do and have more, more, more. But a recent study shows that thinking less and living more in the moment might be the key to greater happiness. I'm a big fan of simplifying my life, but I find it hard to live in the moment. This post is a great reminder of why it is so important.
- In The Darker Side of Back Friday, Mom-101 calls out the retailers who have gone too far with Black Friday sales that are now starting on Thanksgiving Day. Would you like a side of rampant commercialism and blatant consumerism with your turkey?
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Santa Claus Is Not A Lie. He's A Belief System.
One of my favorite Christmas prints is by local St. Louis artist Mary Engelbreit. It's a simple picture of Santa Claus, with the word Believe printed above.
One word.
Believe.
Easier said than done, I know.
When money is tight and jobs are scarce and loved ones are ill, it can be difficult to believe that things will be okay. Sometimes, it can be difficult to believe that we can cope with the hardships that life keeps throwing at us.
If we are religious, it can be difficult to believe that going to church and trusting in a God who appears to have forsaken us is worthwhile.
Belief can be difficult to master.
"Faith," said Santa Claus in the classic Christmas movie Miracle on 34th Street, "is believing in things when common sense tells you not to."
In Valentine Davies book from which the movie was adapted, the quote reads a little differently:
"Those who can accept nothing on faith will be forced to live a life dominated by doubt."
Common sense tells us that Santa Claus is a myth. As adults, we know that, in reality, there is no such person. And there are some parents who struggle to teach their children about a man who for all intensive purposes is a big fat lie.
Is it a lie to perpetuate the myth of Santa to our children?
I don't think so.
Santa Claus may not actually exist in the real world. But when we teach our children about him, what we're really teaching them is how to believe in things that we cannot see. We're teaching them that we can never know the complete truth of our existence, or understand all the wonders of our world. We're teaching them that there is much that we can never understand.
We're teaching them to imagine and to dream. We're teaching them that life is about so much more than we can perceive from our limited point of view. We're teaching them to believe in magic and generosity, and that the good in the world can always outshine the evil.
We're teaching them to choose a life of belief and optimism over a life of pessimism and doubt.
Last night, my six year-old put her first tooth under her pillow and went to sleep with visions of a magical tooth fairy who would come in the night. I might feel like I'm lying to her when I spin tales of this mysterious creature and then sneak in myself to stash the cash. But I don't.
Instead, I feel like I'm teaching that we live in a world where life is full of possibilities and anything can happen.
In a world where a fat guy in a red suit can fly through the sky in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. A world where a fairy can come in the night and leave money under your pillow. Where a heart that has grown heavy from the hardships of life can be healed. Where things will always get better.
I'm teaching her to believe.
And I'm also reminding myself.
**********************
Check out the Mary Engelbreit store online if you're looking for some neat Christmas gifts. She illustrates a variety of cards, calendars, posters, dishes, books, ornaments, etc. There used to be an ME store at the St. Louis Galleria (and a long, long time ago at Union Station), but I don't think there are any around town anymore. Her stuff is one-of-a-kind, though, so it's totally worth the shipping charges!
One word.
Believe.
Easier said than done, I know.
When money is tight and jobs are scarce and loved ones are ill, it can be difficult to believe that things will be okay. Sometimes, it can be difficult to believe that we can cope with the hardships that life keeps throwing at us.
If we are religious, it can be difficult to believe that going to church and trusting in a God who appears to have forsaken us is worthwhile.
Belief can be difficult to master.
"Faith," said Santa Claus in the classic Christmas movie Miracle on 34th Street, "is believing in things when common sense tells you not to."
In Valentine Davies book from which the movie was adapted, the quote reads a little differently:
"Those who can accept nothing on faith will be forced to live a life dominated by doubt."
Common sense tells us that Santa Claus is a myth. As adults, we know that, in reality, there is no such person. And there are some parents who struggle to teach their children about a man who for all intensive purposes is a big fat lie.
Is it a lie to perpetuate the myth of Santa to our children?
I don't think so.
Santa Claus may not actually exist in the real world. But when we teach our children about him, what we're really teaching them is how to believe in things that we cannot see. We're teaching them that we can never know the complete truth of our existence, or understand all the wonders of our world. We're teaching them that there is much that we can never understand.
We're teaching them to imagine and to dream. We're teaching them that life is about so much more than we can perceive from our limited point of view. We're teaching them to believe in magic and generosity, and that the good in the world can always outshine the evil.
We're teaching them to choose a life of belief and optimism over a life of pessimism and doubt.
Last night, my six year-old put her first tooth under her pillow and went to sleep with visions of a magical tooth fairy who would come in the night. I might feel like I'm lying to her when I spin tales of this mysterious creature and then sneak in myself to stash the cash. But I don't.
Instead, I feel like I'm teaching that we live in a world where life is full of possibilities and anything can happen.
In a world where a fat guy in a red suit can fly through the sky in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. A world where a fairy can come in the night and leave money under your pillow. Where a heart that has grown heavy from the hardships of life can be healed. Where things will always get better.
I'm teaching her to believe.
And I'm also reminding myself.
**********************
Check out the Mary Engelbreit store online if you're looking for some neat Christmas gifts. She illustrates a variety of cards, calendars, posters, dishes, books, ornaments, etc. There used to be an ME store at the St. Louis Galleria (and a long, long time ago at Union Station), but I don't think there are any around town anymore. Her stuff is one-of-a-kind, though, so it's totally worth the shipping charges!
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sunday Surfing on Monday: Medication, McDonalds, And Other Things Moms Talk About
I had a Sunday Surf post all prepared, but was sidelined by some weird form of head cold/stomach flu/ poisoning by Theraflu. Whatever it was that I had, I never made it to the computer. So we're Sunday Surfing on Monday. What difference does it make, really?
- Lisa Belkin, author of The New York Times Motherlode blog (and #1 on Babble's recent list of top mom bloggers) has an interesting post entitled Modern Mother's Little Helpers. No, it isn't about the cute little toddlers who empty the silverware from the dishwasher and put the laundry into the dryer. It's about the pills that so many moms pop in order to get through the day. Belkin draws on a post from an anonymous blogger at The Elmo Wallpaper, who wonders what is going on when such large numbers of mothers are so overwhelmed and stressed out that they can't seem to function without the help of prescription meds.
- San Francisco can ban Happy Meal toys all day long, but according to two eye-opening posts over at Spoonfed, there are far more serious issues when it comes to McDonalds. Check out both Forget Happy Meal toys. Let's ban McEducation and the follow-up post More McDonald's Madness for some interesting and educational reading.
- There was a beautiful post from Carrie at The Parenting Passageway about the times when breastfeeding doesn't work out. She writes: "breastfeeding is wonderful, it provides an excellent start to infants and to families. However, the way we connect to our children goes through all developmental stages, not just infancy, and not just through breastfeeding."
- And last but definitely not least, the Cool Mom Picks Holiday Guide is here!!! Cool Mom Picks is an awesome website run by awesome mom bloggers, and every year they scope out the coolest holiday gift ideas so that you don't have to. I love that their stuff is unique, and that I can find handmade items from Etsy mixed in among all their holiday picks.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
STL Views and Reviews: Malcolm Terrace Park
I've lived in St. Louis for over twenty-five years, but until a good friend suggested that we meet for a playdate at Malcolm Terrace Park last week, I had never even heard of it.
Boy, have I been missing out.
Personally, I always find it to be a bit of a struggle to find a really good park that the entire family can enjoy. My elementary school-aged daughter likes playgrounds that challenge her physically and have "a lot to do," my toddler loves a park with lots of open space where he can run freely, and I love a place where they'll both be entertained and I can relax a bit and actually enjoy the fresh air and the scenery.
I also find that, as a mom to a toddler (who is rapidly evolving into a fearless and overly adventurous preschooler), I don't enjoy the sprawling playgrounds where your kids can disappear from your sight for what seems like hours on end, even if it's actually only about thirty seconds.
Yes, I have helicopter-parent tendencies; I know this about myself and, quite frankly, I'm okay with it.
The playground at Malcolm Terrace Park is small enough that parents like me can actually see what their little ones are up to, without having to follow them around like a puppy. Maybe I'm lazy, but sometimes half the pleasure of taking my kids to the park is being able to sit on a bench nearby and just sit.
Maybe it's like my stay-at-home mom version of "time to myself," because at home I can't sit down without somebody needing me to get up and do something the minute my ass makes contact with a cushion.
It's like kids have radar -- oops, moms about to sit down and breathe, we better keep her moving . . .
So Malcolm Terrace Park is nice for lazy mothers who want to go somewhere where they won't have to chase a busy toddler. But it's also really nice for older kids too. The playground isn't one of those brand new shiny things with plastic astro-turf underneath it; it's more of an old-school, back-to-basics, good old-fashioned fun type of place.
It has two swings, two baby swings, a curvy slide, a tunnel slide, and a straight slide, a swaying, creaky bridge, and a tunnel, some monkey bars, and some poles to climb. And mulch on the ground. Nothing fancy, but plenty of scope for the imagination.
And did I mention the trees? This, I think, is why I and probably a lot of other people like this park so much. Nestled amidst homes off of Mosley Road in Creve Coeur, Malcolm Terrace Park is quiet, serene, beautiful, and shady!!!
Mature, fully grown trees surround the play area, keeping the slides cool even on the sunniest of days. There's plenty of grassy area for running around or playing catch or picnicing on a fall day, and there's also a sand volleyball court for anybody whose up for a game, or who wants to bring sand toys and pretend it's a day at the beach . . .
Also very important for parents of small children, both parking and restrooms are located within walking distance of the playground.
The park also has a small path of trails to walk through that makes for a great nature hike for kids who love to pick up sticks and admire rocks, and apparently The Riverfront Times even listed it as the best park for birdwatching in St. Louis. There is a small rock creek that kids will enjoy, and a shady area full of trees and plants known as Serenity Grove where everyone can relax.
If you would like to see pictures of Malcolm Terrace Park, there is a great stream of Flickr photos at http://www.malcolmterracepark.org/.
Boy, have I been missing out.
Personally, I always find it to be a bit of a struggle to find a really good park that the entire family can enjoy. My elementary school-aged daughter likes playgrounds that challenge her physically and have "a lot to do," my toddler loves a park with lots of open space where he can run freely, and I love a place where they'll both be entertained and I can relax a bit and actually enjoy the fresh air and the scenery.
I also find that, as a mom to a toddler (who is rapidly evolving into a fearless and overly adventurous preschooler), I don't enjoy the sprawling playgrounds where your kids can disappear from your sight for what seems like hours on end, even if it's actually only about thirty seconds.
Yes, I have helicopter-parent tendencies; I know this about myself and, quite frankly, I'm okay with it.
The playground at Malcolm Terrace Park is small enough that parents like me can actually see what their little ones are up to, without having to follow them around like a puppy. Maybe I'm lazy, but sometimes half the pleasure of taking my kids to the park is being able to sit on a bench nearby and just sit.
Maybe it's like my stay-at-home mom version of "time to myself," because at home I can't sit down without somebody needing me to get up and do something the minute my ass makes contact with a cushion.
It's like kids have radar -- oops, moms about to sit down and breathe, we better keep her moving . . .
So Malcolm Terrace Park is nice for lazy mothers who want to go somewhere where they won't have to chase a busy toddler. But it's also really nice for older kids too. The playground isn't one of those brand new shiny things with plastic astro-turf underneath it; it's more of an old-school, back-to-basics, good old-fashioned fun type of place.
It has two swings, two baby swings, a curvy slide, a tunnel slide, and a straight slide, a swaying, creaky bridge, and a tunnel, some monkey bars, and some poles to climb. And mulch on the ground. Nothing fancy, but plenty of scope for the imagination.
And did I mention the trees? This, I think, is why I and probably a lot of other people like this park so much. Nestled amidst homes off of Mosley Road in Creve Coeur, Malcolm Terrace Park is quiet, serene, beautiful, and shady!!!
Mature, fully grown trees surround the play area, keeping the slides cool even on the sunniest of days. There's plenty of grassy area for running around or playing catch or picnicing on a fall day, and there's also a sand volleyball court for anybody whose up for a game, or who wants to bring sand toys and pretend it's a day at the beach . . .
Also very important for parents of small children, both parking and restrooms are located within walking distance of the playground.
The park also has a small path of trails to walk through that makes for a great nature hike for kids who love to pick up sticks and admire rocks, and apparently The Riverfront Times even listed it as the best park for birdwatching in St. Louis. There is a small rock creek that kids will enjoy, and a shady area full of trees and plants known as Serenity Grove where everyone can relax.
If you would like to see pictures of Malcolm Terrace Park, there is a great stream of Flickr photos at http://www.malcolmterracepark.org/.
Friday, November 12, 2010
The Post In Which I More Rationally Respond To Erica Jong's Mother Madness
The other day, I briefly responded to Erica Jong's Wall Street Journal article Mother Madness, in which she equates modern motherhood (and attachment parenting in particular) with prison. The piece has caused quite the stir in the world of social media, and in case you couldn't tell from my previous post, I didn't like it.
In her article, Jong reiterates the same basic controversial premise that has brought notoriety to writers like Hannah Rosin and Elisabeth Badinter: that nurturing our babies and children by responding to their needs is the wrong way to mother because it's making us miserable.
That motherhood itself, or more specifically a particular kind of motherhood -- the kind where we are willing to devote much of our time and energy to our children -- is what is holding women back.
Jong goes on the attack against attachment parenting from the beginning, calling out Bill and Martha Sears and their popular Baby Book as one of the primary reasons women become sacrificial lambs on the altar of motherhood (as I imagine she might put it).
What is so frustrating about her article, though, is that she clearly doesn't understand attachment parenting, and confuses a responsive style of mothering with an obsessive desire to raise the "perfect" child.
She clearly doesn't realize that you can parent by attachment while working outside the home, or that attachment parenting does leave room for caregivers other than mom or dad in a child's life. She also seems to think that attachment parenting means making your own baby food and using cloth diapers, and while many attachment parents may do these things, one has nothing to do with the other.
I for one did neither, and my style of parenting is fairly attachment-oriented.
Erica Jong's Mother Madness is perfectly defined by writer and attachment parenting guru Katie Allison Granju in her response on The New York Times Motherlode blog as a "messy amalgam of multiple parenting cliches." Granju debunks many of the attachment parenting myths promoted in Jong's article, and articulates the flaws in Jong's irrational assertions far better than I can.
Granju's is an article worth reading.
Erica Jong is apparently a long-time feminist activist, but she is clearly out of her element when it comes to writing about a style of motherhood that she never embraced. Her own daughter, Molly Jong-Fast wrote a response piece, in which she describes her childhood and her relationship with her mother, and very astutely concludes that her mother worked hard so that she as the daughter could have choices.
Her defense of her mother is touching, and I wholeheartedly agree that there are a million different ways to be a good mother to your child. I may not agree with Jong's choices, and they clearly wouldn't work for me, but I'm not going to deride it and publish an essay in a national publication telling her how she's done everything wrong.
That's Erica Jong's style. Not mine.
Lost in the mish-mosh of Mother Madness are some valid points. Jong is correct that the media focuses on images of smiling celebrities with their children, but never shows the nannies. She is correct that there are parents who get so caught up in the desire to do everything "right" who are overly susceptible to ideas and theories of what constitutes "good" parenting.
While I practice many of the principles of attachment parenting, I have long been frustrated by the label, because I don't believe that parents or parenting styles need to be categorized. I agree that it's dangerous to give new mothers the idea that "this is what you should be doing."
In fact, I also agree with Ms. Jong on one other very important point: that modern motherhood desperately needs to be redefined.
Modern mothers are struggling under the weight of tremendous pressure, but the pressure to be an excellent mother is no greater than the pressure to function in society (and more importantly in the work place) as if you weren't a mother. Yes, there are women who stay home to raise children for the wrong reasons and probably feel imprisoned. But there are also women who leave their children and go to work because it is what is expected of them or because they must to provide for their family, and feel just as imprisoned there.
Attachment parenting may be a convenient scapegoat, but we have far greater cultural problems than arguing about whether moms should make their own baby food. We need longer maternity leaves and an increased acceptance of leave for fathers as well. We need laws protecting women's rights to pump at work and breastfeed in public. We need fellow mothers who are willing to accept that there are ways of raising children that are different from their own. We need far more support, and far fewer critics.
Motherhood isn't holding us back.
But so-called feminists who insist on blaming motherhood for the undone work of the women's movement instead of fighting for the social change that mothers deserve just might be.
In her article, Jong reiterates the same basic controversial premise that has brought notoriety to writers like Hannah Rosin and Elisabeth Badinter: that nurturing our babies and children by responding to their needs is the wrong way to mother because it's making us miserable.
That motherhood itself, or more specifically a particular kind of motherhood -- the kind where we are willing to devote much of our time and energy to our children -- is what is holding women back.
Jong goes on the attack against attachment parenting from the beginning, calling out Bill and Martha Sears and their popular Baby Book as one of the primary reasons women become sacrificial lambs on the altar of motherhood (as I imagine she might put it).
What is so frustrating about her article, though, is that she clearly doesn't understand attachment parenting, and confuses a responsive style of mothering with an obsessive desire to raise the "perfect" child.
She clearly doesn't realize that you can parent by attachment while working outside the home, or that attachment parenting does leave room for caregivers other than mom or dad in a child's life. She also seems to think that attachment parenting means making your own baby food and using cloth diapers, and while many attachment parents may do these things, one has nothing to do with the other.
I for one did neither, and my style of parenting is fairly attachment-oriented.
Erica Jong's Mother Madness is perfectly defined by writer and attachment parenting guru Katie Allison Granju in her response on The New York Times Motherlode blog as a "messy amalgam of multiple parenting cliches." Granju debunks many of the attachment parenting myths promoted in Jong's article, and articulates the flaws in Jong's irrational assertions far better than I can.
Granju's is an article worth reading.
Erica Jong is apparently a long-time feminist activist, but she is clearly out of her element when it comes to writing about a style of motherhood that she never embraced. Her own daughter, Molly Jong-Fast wrote a response piece, in which she describes her childhood and her relationship with her mother, and very astutely concludes that her mother worked hard so that she as the daughter could have choices.
Her defense of her mother is touching, and I wholeheartedly agree that there are a million different ways to be a good mother to your child. I may not agree with Jong's choices, and they clearly wouldn't work for me, but I'm not going to deride it and publish an essay in a national publication telling her how she's done everything wrong.
That's Erica Jong's style. Not mine.
Lost in the mish-mosh of Mother Madness are some valid points. Jong is correct that the media focuses on images of smiling celebrities with their children, but never shows the nannies. She is correct that there are parents who get so caught up in the desire to do everything "right" who are overly susceptible to ideas and theories of what constitutes "good" parenting.
While I practice many of the principles of attachment parenting, I have long been frustrated by the label, because I don't believe that parents or parenting styles need to be categorized. I agree that it's dangerous to give new mothers the idea that "this is what you should be doing."
In fact, I also agree with Ms. Jong on one other very important point: that modern motherhood desperately needs to be redefined.
Modern mothers are struggling under the weight of tremendous pressure, but the pressure to be an excellent mother is no greater than the pressure to function in society (and more importantly in the work place) as if you weren't a mother. Yes, there are women who stay home to raise children for the wrong reasons and probably feel imprisoned. But there are also women who leave their children and go to work because it is what is expected of them or because they must to provide for their family, and feel just as imprisoned there.
Attachment parenting may be a convenient scapegoat, but we have far greater cultural problems than arguing about whether moms should make their own baby food. We need longer maternity leaves and an increased acceptance of leave for fathers as well. We need laws protecting women's rights to pump at work and breastfeed in public. We need fellow mothers who are willing to accept that there are ways of raising children that are different from their own. We need far more support, and far fewer critics.
Motherhood isn't holding us back.
But so-called feminists who insist on blaming motherhood for the undone work of the women's movement instead of fighting for the social change that mothers deserve just might be.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Who The %$#&% Is Erica Jong?
I just have one question today.
Who the hell is Erica Jong and why should anybody care what she has to say?
This article from The Wall Street Journal is positively one of the most disturbing pieces of writing that I've ever read. Not because I disagree with what she says (which I do), but because her thinking is completely illogical and the audacity with which she presumes to know what other women are feeling and experiencing is absolutely astounding.
Who is Erica Jong again?
Clearly not anybody I need to waste my time finding out about.
Who the hell is Erica Jong and why should anybody care what she has to say?
This article from The Wall Street Journal is positively one of the most disturbing pieces of writing that I've ever read. Not because I disagree with what she says (which I do), but because her thinking is completely illogical and the audacity with which she presumes to know what other women are feeling and experiencing is absolutely astounding.
Who is Erica Jong again?
Clearly not anybody I need to waste my time finding out about.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Why This Stay-At-Home Mom Will Never Go "Back" To Work
From the moment you make the decision to stay at home, you start to hear the question.
"When will you go back to work?"
I don't know if people are trying to be intentionally rude, and I doubt that they truly mean to convey the sort of condescension that accompanies the implication that every stay-at-home mom is really just biding her time at home with her kids until she can jump back into the world as a so-called real person again.
I happen to like the time that I spend with my children. I place a high value on the time that I spend doing things for them (though I reserve the right to bitch and moan about said contributions to their general welfare whenever I please).
And I have yet to meet a mother who doesn't "work" on a daily basis.
Apparently, though, work doesn't qualify as work unless somebody pays you to do it.
If I went to work in a daycare, I would get paid to play with children and keep them safe and prepare their meals and clean up their messes.
If I went to work as a teacher, I would get paid to read with children and help them learn their ABC's and all sorts of other life lessons.
If I went to work as a personal chef, I would get paid to shop and plan and prepare meals.
If I went to work as a chauffeur, I would get paid to drive people around all day.
In none of these situations would anybody ask me when I was going to go back to work. They would consider what I was doing to be work, simply because I would be doing it for strangers and getting paid for it.
Except, I don't get paid to do any of these jobs. I do them for my own family out of the goodness of my heart, so apparently they don't count as work. But they are work. Hard work. And they count as work too.
I will never go back to work because I never stopped working in the first place.
I will, however, return to paid employment, which is what people actually mean (and what they should say) when they ask about going back to work.
Language is a powerful tool. Often, the words that we use convey far more than we mean. By simply asking a mother when she plans to return to work, we automatically devalue the work that that woman does everyday taking care of her own family.
I am actually in the process of returning to a paying job right now -- on a part-time, work from home basis -- but I don't consider it going back to work. I consider it adding more work to the work that I'm already doing.
The definition of "work" should encompass more than just work that is financially compensated. Defining ourselves through our paid employment and not the many other aspects of our lives just doesn't make sense, because most of us are so much more than the things we do to pay our bills.
And stay-at-home moms like myself might not be earning the big bucks or receiving compensation in any form other than sloppy kisses and crayon drawings, but our work is just as (if not more) important than anything else we might be doing.
We work.
Every day.
All day.
And usually at night too.
We don't have to go "back" to work. We're already here.
"When will you go back to work?"
I don't know if people are trying to be intentionally rude, and I doubt that they truly mean to convey the sort of condescension that accompanies the implication that every stay-at-home mom is really just biding her time at home with her kids until she can jump back into the world as a so-called real person again.
I happen to like the time that I spend with my children. I place a high value on the time that I spend doing things for them (though I reserve the right to bitch and moan about said contributions to their general welfare whenever I please).
And I have yet to meet a mother who doesn't "work" on a daily basis.
Apparently, though, work doesn't qualify as work unless somebody pays you to do it.
If I went to work in a daycare, I would get paid to play with children and keep them safe and prepare their meals and clean up their messes.
If I went to work as a teacher, I would get paid to read with children and help them learn their ABC's and all sorts of other life lessons.
If I went to work as a personal chef, I would get paid to shop and plan and prepare meals.
If I went to work as a chauffeur, I would get paid to drive people around all day.
In none of these situations would anybody ask me when I was going to go back to work. They would consider what I was doing to be work, simply because I would be doing it for strangers and getting paid for it.
Except, I don't get paid to do any of these jobs. I do them for my own family out of the goodness of my heart, so apparently they don't count as work. But they are work. Hard work. And they count as work too.
I will never go back to work because I never stopped working in the first place.
I will, however, return to paid employment, which is what people actually mean (and what they should say) when they ask about going back to work.
Language is a powerful tool. Often, the words that we use convey far more than we mean. By simply asking a mother when she plans to return to work, we automatically devalue the work that that woman does everyday taking care of her own family.
I am actually in the process of returning to a paying job right now -- on a part-time, work from home basis -- but I don't consider it going back to work. I consider it adding more work to the work that I'm already doing.
The definition of "work" should encompass more than just work that is financially compensated. Defining ourselves through our paid employment and not the many other aspects of our lives just doesn't make sense, because most of us are so much more than the things we do to pay our bills.
And stay-at-home moms like myself might not be earning the big bucks or receiving compensation in any form other than sloppy kisses and crayon drawings, but our work is just as (if not more) important than anything else we might be doing.
We work.
Every day.
All day.
And usually at night too.
We don't have to go "back" to work. We're already here.
Monday, November 1, 2010
It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas . . .
Yesterday, we celebrated Halloween at our house. Just like millions of other families across the country. We didn't do anything special -- just made the traditional Halloween chili and carved pumpkins and tossed black and orange balloons around the house with the kids.
My six year-old was a go-go dancer, because when she spotted the multi-colored costume at Target she thought it was "the most beautiful dress I've ever seen."
I never did look up what a go-go dancer actually is, and at the back of my mind I wonder if it's really an appropriate choice for a six year-old. But her excitement over her costume stems purely from the fact that it's so fun and colorful and that she gets to dance while she wears it. Where's the harm in that?
My two year-old wore his pajamas. After first declaring that he wanted to be a car, he changed his mind and decided that no costume would come within three feet of his body. As it turns out, nobody really cared that the kid wasn't wearing a costume, and he came home with a bag full of candy that weighed at least as much as he does.
But what made Halloween special to me this year was the weather. The fall weather. The fact that it was cold enough last night that the kids had to wear long sleeves under their costumes and bring their jackets, cold enough that my daughter was complaining that she needed mittens.
You can always count on St. Louis weather to turn cold just in time for Halloween. October may bring plenty of unseasonably warm days, but by Halloween night, you can almost always feel the frost in the air.
And that's as it should be.
I've spent Halloween in Florida for the past two years. And I could never get acclimated to the fact that you had to worry about a kid getting too hot in their costume. It's just plain weird that you can wear your bikini to the beach in the daytime and then go trick-or-treating at night.
So I enjoyed this Halloween a little too much. I'm getting a big kick out of the changing leaves and the falling temperatures, and appreciating the good old Midwest a little more than I did before. You can't eat chili or drink hot chocolate or apple cider (spiked of course) in the Florida heat.
Well, you can, but it just doesn't feel right.
And this is why I don't mind that Halloween hasn't even been over for 24 hours yet and Christmas is everywhere. Stores are stocked and online promotions have begun. Typically, I would be bitching about the holidays running together and wondering why the Christmas season no longer starts after Thanksgiving like it used to.
Not this year. I can't wait to bundle up in my coat and mittens and hit the malls with the rest of the crazy people. I can't wait for the first snow. I can't wait to put up my Christmas tree and sing Christmas carols and watch It's A Wonderful Life.
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. And I'm perfectly okay with that.
Photo credit: sociotard/ flickr
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Fun Halloween Activities For St. Louis Kids
With Halloween just around the corner. St. Louis parents are on the lookout for fun, Halloween-themed activities to do with their kids. Whether you're in the mood for super-scary or just some plain old fun with pumpkins, check out this list of can't-miss Halloween activities around St. Louis.
- Visit the St. Louis Zoo for St. John's Mercy Children's Hospitals Boo at the Zoo Nights, which take place nightly from 5:30-8:30 through October 30. For a small admission fee ($1 off for a child in costume), you can enjoy the zoo's "non-scary, kid-friendly Halloween experience." Everything will be lit up and newly decorated, and there are tons of fun things to do. You can go on a Night Hike, listen to Fireside Stories, enjoy Cackling Chicken Strips and Scary S'mores at Lakeside Cafe, and much, much more!
- The Not-So-Haunted-House at the ever-popular Magic House in Kirkwood is also a great option for families of young ones who don't want anything too scary. Storybook characters from more than 15 children's classic tales will "haunt" the museum, and a "Haunted Trail" will be set up for older boys and girls. Costumes are encouraged and the event is free with regular admission ($8.75, 1 and above). The Not-So-Haunted-House will be open Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, October 29-31, and the Magic House will have special extended hours on all three of those days.
- The Jumpin' Pumpkin Jamboree continues at Eckert's Family Farms this weekend October 30-31. Ride a wagon out to the pumpkin patch to pick your own pumpkin, and enjoy live entertainment, pony rides, make-your-own-scarecrow, and plenty of other fun children's activities. The Jamboree takes place at the Belleville, Millstadt, and Grafton Farms.
- We are lucky in St. Louis to have lots of neat pumpkin patches to visit this time of year. Rombach's Family Farm in Chesterfield has a great pumpkin patch, with no admission fee or fee for parking and lots to keep you busy and get you in the Halloween spirit. Stuckmeyer's Farm in Fenton isn't quite as fancy and doesn't have as many pumpkins in it's fields, but they have a huge, fenced-in children's play area with playgrounds, tunnels, mazes, and all sorts of fall fun. Again, no fee for parking or admission. For a list of more area pumpkin patches, visit the PumpkinPatchesandMore.org (and scroll way, way down to the bottom of the page).
- Many local cities and shopping districts are hosting their own Trick-or-Treat Walks in the upcoming week. There will be a Halloween Walk in Downtown Kirkwood on Thursday night from 5-7, Trick or Treat on Main will take place on Historic Main Street in St. Charles on Friday from 3-5, and Trick or Treat in the Central West End will take place on Saturday with both trick-or-treating and a costume parade and contest. Trick-or-treating events will also take place at many malls and libraries; check your local one for details.
- Fright Fest at Six Flags is always a scary, heart-pounding experience. If amusement parks are your thing, you'll love this one. In the daytime, younger visitors can bob for apples and have kid-friendly fun, but when the sun goes down the event is usually best for older kids who like to be frightened . . .
- There are lots of haunted houses around town too, but most are probably a little too scary for younger audiences. Visit this link if you have older kids or or looking for some grown-up Halloween fun.
Photo credit: Flickr
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