We started with a pumpkin. I did the outline and some of the coloring. Michael did the stem and most of the coloring.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
We started with a pumpkin. I did the outline and some of the coloring. Michael did the stem and most of the coloring.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
It actually started at 11:15 last night. Michael woke up for the first time. He woke up four times total, which made for a very long night. I went in the first three times, Andy the fourth. When I asked Michael what was wrong he told me that he doesn't like his sleep, he was too hot, he needed to go downstairs. When Andy asked him he said he was scared. I'm not sure which ones may have been real reasons, but I will say I'm not surprised that this happened the night after he discovered an imaginary friend. I think there is an awful lot going on in his little mind right now. I hope it works itself out soon.
In the mean time, we sent him to bed tonight with a flashlight, a Cookie Monster and an Elmo to keep away bad monsters, and an N Force Nerf sword.
We were all a bit tired this morning, which didn't set Michael and I up for a good visit with the doctor to get his stitches out. I didn't have high expectations to begin with, but things went down hill once we got to the office.
I understand that we live in a populated area and that pediatricians are over worked. I understand that traffic is high right now, and that the doctors are overwhelmed. But, I'd like to offer them one bit of advice. The waiting room is designed for waiting. It has toys, books, and a TV. The exam room is not designed for waiting. It is small, you don't allow snacks, and it's filled with calibrated medical equipment that is expensive to repair or replace. If you are running half an hour late, I'd suggest that you have your patients spend most of that time in the waiting room.
The first five minutes in the exam room were spent talking about crocodiles in the stream outside the window. The next five minutes were spent with Michael breathing on the window to fog it up, and then me allowing him to wipe it off with his grimy fingers (Hey, they were the ones with the no snack rule.). We then spent five minutes exploring the room, followed by five minutes spent reading Michael the sign explaining why he cannot play with the blood pressure cuff and scales. The next five minutes were spent physically preventing Michael from playing with calibrated medical equipment. This eventually lead to me standing with my hand on the door trying to keep Michael from escaping the room. The doctor walked in right as Michael went into full freak out mode.
It took both a nurse and I to restrain Michael while the doctor removed the stitches.
Michael wasn't in the best mood for the rest of the day, but we made it through. I bought him some new letters at the toy store, which cheered him up. We also played some Wii Mario Kart, which cheered me up. Things were much improved by bedtime.
Andy and I both had a little stomach discomfort this evening, but it didn't cross my mind that Michael's tummy might be bothering him. Of course, it didn't really need to cross my mind because kid's stomachs have such a strong reject reaction. Half way through bedtime stories, without any warning, his tummy rejected. On him. On me. The perfect way to end a day like today.
So, after we cleaned things up, gave Michael a bath, and read to him a few more books, I tucked him in with his many stuffed animals, his flashlight, his Nerf sword and crossed my fingers that tonight is a better night than last night.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
To handle the Chompers, Andy made the "NO CHOMPERS ALLOWED" signs the first night. That didn't seem to be enough, so Andy started assigning special powers to PJs that ward off the Chompers. The last serious complaint I heard about Chompers was on Friday when we were driving home from the book store. Michael informed me that there were millions of Chompers on the road, and that I had to run over every one of them on the way home. Brutal, I know. At least I didn't have to make squishing sounds as I ran them over.
I've also noticed an uptick in his love/hate relationship with bears. He has refused to let me read Bear Snores On for over a year now. (Of course, it's my favorite.) But, every night he insists on having me read We're Going on a Bear Hunt. (Hate it!) Recently he has started talking to the characters in the book. He always tells them to go over the cave instead of going into it so they won't have to see the bear. Next, he started trying to change everything in the book. He mows the grass, heats up the cold river, and blows away the snow storm. He even tells the bear to be nice at the end of the book. It cracks me up that he wants to change everything in the book, but yet still loves it so much I have to read it to him every night.
I love seeing his imagination blossum, but recently it seems like everything he imagines is scary. It would be nice to see a little more fun come out of it all. Today, I got my wish.
We were playing balloon up on Andy's and my bed. We were pretending to launch, get caught in a storm, and deflate again. Michael had a pretend snail and Summer Tanager with him. He was also playing some word games. His favorite fake word at the moment is "neek".* Somehow, as we were playing, "neek" became "Nell". I explained that "Nell" is a girl's name. As we continued to play, "Nell" turned into "Nella" and then into "Ella". By the time we were done playing, Ella had become Michale's friend. By the end of the day, she had become a very vivid imaginary friend.
Ella, is a four year old girl. She rides in the car with us. She can hook her own harness. Michael always wants her to hold his hand. He's so cute holding her little imgainary hand. She went to the grocery store with us, and walked next to me just like Michael did. This evening she got a bath with him. When I was putting Michael's diaper on (still!) we talked about how Ella wears underpants and uses the potty. Ella went up to bed with Michael and he asked if she could sleep in his bed with him. Of course she can! When I was finished singing Rock a Bye Baby to him and tucking him in, Michael insisted that I sing to Ella as well.
You know, it's hard to believe that once upon a time I didn't want any children. I'm so glad that I changed my mind. I can't believe how blessed I am to have such a sweet and funny little boy.
*How do you catch a unique rabbit? You neek up on him.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
My mom's surgery was on Friday. I dropped her off in the morning and the Dr. let me know she should be out of surgery by 3:00. I tried calling her room at 5:00 and she wasn't there yet. In fact, she didn't get there until 6:30. It turns out she had a lot of scaring and adhesions that needed to be repaired. Her surgery took twice as long as it was supposed to. She was so out of it, that she doesn't remember all of the really funny things she said on Friday night. She doesn't even remember that I was there.
But here is the amazing thing. She walked out of the hospital 24 hours later without any problem. She hadn't even had any pain killers in hours. She doesn't feel 100% yet, but she feels pretty good. I went over to visit her tonight, and she was doing really well. That robotic surgery really is that muh better than the other options.
Now, on to the other hospital visit.
Yesterday afternoon Michael and I were playing on the sofa. He was bouncing on it like he always does. I know I saw it happen, but I don't remember how he managed to fall off. What I do remember is the sound of his head hitting the edge of the coffee table. It was horrible. In fact, it's making me cringe just typing about it. It's one of those things that I'll never forget...but I sure wish I could.
Michael jumped right up, wailing like you can't even believe. I grabbed him and hugged him all while saying "OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD" over and over again. That's when my brain started spinning. Where is Andy? How bad is this? Ask Michael questions. Do we call 911?
I got Michael calmed down a little and started asking him questions. He knew who he was and how to spell his name. That's a good sign. We can drive him to the hospital. I yelled for Andy. Andy didn't respond.
I continued to calm Michael. When he was just sobbing, I went to get an ice pack and to yell for Andy again. I was barely holding myself together. I came back in to give Michael the ice pack and that's when I noticed a little blood near his hair.
I sat down next to him and moved his hair aside to see what kind of scratch he had. I'm not going to explain what I saw because...well, I just can't. I got a wet cloth and covered the cut. Then I ran up to find Andy. He was in the shower, and I'm pretty sure I scared him half to death when I barged in on him yelling what had just happened. Then I headed back down to Michael.
OK, I have a confession. I was so wozzy from seing the cut that I had to stop for about 10 seconds and lay down so as not to pass out. I'm a fainter. I hated stopping like that while Michael was alone, but I didn't want to pass out on the steps.
Michael was a real trooper. I'm so proud of him. He held the cloth to his head while I got him into his car seat and tolerated all of my annoying questions. He sat on my lap for an hour in the waiting room, and even managed to be peepy when another boy came over to talk to him. (What a life saver that boy was. He was a great distraction for Michael.)
Once we made it into the exam room, the hard stuff started to happen. I'm a fainter and unfortunately, so is Andy. I really just wanted to leave the room a few times, but there was no way in hell I was letting go of Michael. So, I got to help the nurse when she applied the topical to Michael's cut. I saw WAY TOO MUCH. Wozzy again. I didn't pass out, but I did break out in a cold sweat.
Once the topical had time to work, they needed to give the local and irrigate the wound. They needed my help with that too. I did it, but once again, I saw WAY TOO MUCH. Wozzy again. Closer to passing out. Another cold sweat.
Finally, it was time for the stitches. Michael was amazing. He laid still for all six stitches. I held his hands throughout, but I did not look. Still got wozzy. Massive cold sweat. I am such a wuss!
Michael, on the other hand, is one tough little kid. Not only was he brave throughtout the whole thing. The only time he cried was when they took his blood pressure (yet stitches where fine). He answered all of the doctor's questions, even though he must have told people his name about 30 times. He was even up to correcting a few people, including the doctor once. The doctor called him "bud" once and Michael sternly informed him that he IS MICHAEL. That's my boy.
We stopped at Dunkin Donuts on the way home and treated Michael to two sprinkle donuts. He ate them both too. Another good sign that he didn't have a concussion. He was also trying to bounce on the sofa again within the hour, but seems OK with the no bouncing rule. I checked on him a number of times last night, but he seems good as new. The worst part now is that I have to keep a bandaid on it for 48 hours, changing it twice a day. The cut is right along his hairline, so the band aid sticks to the soft wispy hairs. Removing the band aid is like waxing his hair line. Poor kid.
So, we've had our first ER visit for stitches. I hope it's the last. I don't ever want to have to go through that again. Although, I did use it as an excuse for extra hugs and kisses. Poor kid...
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The sleep issues aren't too bad. Mostly just waking at 6:00 on weekends (which should be expected for a kid that has to get up at 5:30 during the week) and the occasional night time wake up. He doesn't need much when he wakes at night. I normally go in, tuck him in, get his pillow for him, and stay with him for a minute while he drifts off again. I know he's going through a sensitive stage right now, and I don't mind getting up with him now and again.
Last night he woke at 11:30 and called out for me. I was able to get him settled again and was back to bed in five minutes. Not too bad.
At 12:30, he woke again, and this time he called out for Daddy. He rarely does that. Part of me was a little jealous. Most of me was thrilled!
Andy went in to him, and I heard them talking quietly. Next I hear Michael saying "Shoo! Shoo!", then a little more talking. Hmm...
Then, I hear Andy get up and head downstairs. We don't give Michael milk at night, so I couldn't understand why Andy was heading down. It actually crossed my mind that maybe he was going to check and see if the Phillies had clinched a World Series spot last night. That would be crazy, but fans do crazy things.
A few minutes later, Andy came back up. I heard him in Michael's room along with a few more "Shoo! Shoos!" Then he came back to bed and I drifted off to sleep.
I was the first one downstairs this morning. When I walked into the living room I noticed that Andy had pulled out a handful of construction paper and it was sitting out on the coffee table.
That's weird. Why would he had gotten construction paper out in the middle of the night?
I learned the answer when I went to get Michael up. When I walked into his room, I found a "No Chompers Allowed" sign on Michael's door and on his bed.
I can't wait to get home and find out the story behind this one. But I can't help but smile about it. I mean really, how sweet is it for a daddy to make "no chompers allowed" signs in the middle of the night, just to make his little boy feel better?
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
I haven't really given this much thought. If it was anyone else, I wouldn't bother to explain what is going on, however I realized that because she is his daycare provider, there are some things he will need to understand. The first thing he needs to understand is why my mom won't be watching him. When she went on vacation, he was fine with not seeing her for a week, but because I will be caring for both of them, he will be seeing her. I don't know if this will be an issue or not, but I want to be prepared to deal with anything that might come up.
I think the most difficult part of this for Michael will be the fact that he's used to rough housing with my mom, climbing on her, and just in general being crazy around her. Clearly, this will not be acceptable until she has recovered. How do I make him understand that he needs to be gentle with my mom? If she had a visible "boo boo" I think we could just show him, however that won't be the case. I want to make him understand, but I don't want to scare him. I have no idea how to do this.
I'm also concerned that my very technical way of handling things like this could also be upsetting to Michael. For example, the fact that I think it's a good idea to show a 3.5 year old an abdominal incision to demonstrate why he needs to be gentle may indicate that I don't have the best barometer for handling this without upsetting Michael.
So, any suggestions on things I can say to help Michael understand what's going on without freaking him out would be welcomed. I could probably also use some advice on things I shouldn't say or do as well. (I'm guessing that getting out the anatomy book and showing Michael pictures of what they are going to remove isn't a good idea either.) Hmm...this is one area that being a geek probably isn't helpful.
The good news is that the surgery is being done because her pelvic floor muscles are...um...nonexistent, not because there is any concern of the big C. (Do your Kegels ladies! Do your Kegels.)
Also, related good news, she got the results from her mole biopsies last night. Everything looks fine. Thank you to everyone who kept her in your thoughts and prayers.
Monday, October 19, 2009
M's mom was planning on having the party at their house. They were going to have a bounce house all weekend, and we were all REALLY excited about having access to a bounce house that long. However, when she saw that the forecast was for pouring rain and 42 degree temps, M's mom changed the plans. They held the party at Bounce Town instead.
It was the best party ever. I had so much fun. I mean, Michael had so much fun. For 75 minutes the kids got to play on the huge bounce house, the huge bounce slide, the huge bounce obstacle course, and a indoor jungle gym. The only thing that would have made the party better would have been to switch out the kids for a keg of beer. (Oops, did I say that out loud?)
Michael loved the bounce house and he loved the obstacle course, but he wasn't having anything to do with the huge slide, or even the lower one on the obstacle course. I went down the slides many times trying to show him it was OK, but he just wasn't buying it. Andy got a little frustrated that Michael wouldn't even try it, but Michael is stubborn, and forcing the issue won't work.
Finally, Michael climbed up and sat at the top of the slide. I started up one ladder, and his friend J started up the other. I guess that was just the right time to be "stuck" at the top. He looked down at both of us then turned and went down the slide.
Of course, he loved it. So this is what we saw for the next 5 minutes.
Friday, October 16, 2009
If it's 5:45 in the morning and I'm dropping him off before work, I've resorted to the haul him out kicking and screaming approach. It's not my favorite approach, but sometimes a mom has to do what she has to do.
And sometimes, I use bribes. On this particular day, I had decided to let Michael play around for a bit. We weren't in a rush, so what's the harm in letting him indulge a little? However after about 15 minutes I wanted to get going. I didn't have any bribes handy, so I needed to think quick.
Wait, Rita gave me a Dunkin Donuts gift card when we were in NYC. There is a Dunking Donuts on the way home. Michael likes doughnuts.
"Hey Michael, if you get in your car seat, we can stop on the way home and get a doughnut with sprinkles."
Thursday, October 15, 2009
The other evening we were playing with Michael's dinosaurs. I think he has T. Rex and I had Spinosaurus. Well, T. Rex was stuck on the arm of the sofa and Spinosaurus was on the floor below him. Michael, speaking for T. Rex, said, "Can I get a little help here?"
I have no idea where he picked that up, but I busted out laughing and was unable to rescue poor T. Rex.
My mom also said something really funny last night. I called her to find out how Michael was doing in his swim class. When she answered the phone she said, "Did you know you have the sweetest, smartest, most cooperative little boy in the whole world?"
I just about peed myself I was laughing so hard.
Cooperative? Michael? Surely she's on drugs.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
As a kid I looked forward to it because it was the one day of the year that I could be anyone or anything I wanted to be. I could be as glamorous, scary, or extravagant as I wanted to be. My mom made my costumes, and they were amazing. I got to show off to the entire neighborhood. Add the free candy, and it was a little girl's dream holiday.
When I got too old to dress up and go trick-or-treating, I still loved Halloween. I'd buy way too much candy, dress like a witch, and wait for the kids to come knocking. It turns out that giving away free candy is almost as good as getting it.
Once Michael was born, it upped the Halloween fun. Michael was so cute that first year dressed as a pumpkin. I showed him off to every poor victim that came to my door seeking treats. The next year, Michael could walk and carry a bag, so I took him out for his first year of trick-or-treating. He cried the whole time, but he was the cutest little sad turtle ever.
Last year Michael went trick-or-treating with a group of friends. We weren't sure if the kids were old enough to get it, but it only took one doorbell ring and candy tossed into their bags for them to get the idea. We even managed to get Michael to wear most of his pirate skeleton costume. Halloween was a success!
Michael enjoyed himself so much that he still remembers trick-or-treating last year. He remembers his costume, he remembers the candy, and he even remembers one little boy that he had never met before. Based on this, I assumed that this year Michael would be as excited about Halloween as I am.
Was I ever wrong. I tried getting him excited by pulling out some of the books I bought last year. Nothing. I kicked it up a notch and bought a new book about a T. Rex going trick-or-treating. A T. Rex, for crying out loud. His favorite dinosaur.
He won't let me read it to him.
On to pumpkins. What kid can resist going to pick out pumpkins?
Michael, that's who.
How about costumes? We have taken him out to look several times. He will have nothing to do with it. He gets side tracked by the kiddie flashlights and Halloween treats and refuses to even glance at the costumes. I have tried talking it up, but when I ask for costume ideas he just wants to be the skeleton pirate from last year. That's not at all exciting.
So, once again, this is not what I expected when I had Michael. This is such typical Michael behavior that I can't help but smile when I think about it, but I do admit that I'm a little disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm. I'm tempted to buy him black pants and a black shirt, sew letters all over them, and see if he wants to go out as the alphabet. It might just work.
Of course, if he liked it enough to want to wear it on Halloween, I'm afraid he would like it enough to want to wear it all the time. I'm not sure I want to go there.
Monday, October 12, 2009
We handle this by taking turns getting up with Michael on the weekends. Andy takes Saturday morning while I sleep in, and I take Sunday morning while Andy sleeps in. The big problem with this, for me, is that Andy and I like to stay up a little later on Saturday night, and I always pay for it Sunday morning. This weekend was no different. We stayed up until 11:30. Michael woke up at 5:30.
I wasn't happy about only getting six hours of sleep, but it's not Michael's fault that I decided to stay up late, so I suck it up and make the best of our early morning time together. That said, I'm not always at the top of my game first thing in the morning.
At 5:35 yesterday morning I was in the kitchen making Michael's pink milk while trying to wake up. Michael was engaged with something, so we were not conversing. Out of no where I hear Michael say, "Fudge mommy, fudge."
But he didn't say fudge. He said the F--- word. (to paraphrase from A Christmas Story.)
I knew this was coming. He had dropped it on both my mom and Andy over the past week. Andy tried to explain that Michael had the word wrong, that it was actually "muck." That didn't seem to help. So, I gave it a lot of thought and decided to take Maria's advice and teach him that he can only use that word in his room. I had the whole thing worked out in my mind, and I was positive that I was going to handle the whole f-word situation like a seasoned pro.
Ha! I failed to recognize that I'm dealing with a 3.5 year old. No matter how well prepared you are, a 3.5er can trump even the most well though out plan. My, "you can only say that mean word in your bed room" was met with a single response; Michael gleefully exclaiming "FUDGE!"
So, major fail on the four letter word handling. By the afternoon, when the word popped back up, I decided to go with Andy's approach on "muck". Not much luck there either. I have a feeling that until Michael REALLY understands what the word means, that he will not give up his interest in it. We managed to keep the reaction to it pretty mellow, but we failed to get rid of the mystery around it's meaning, which is so important to Michael.
I only have one thing to say in response. "Fudge!"
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Age 3 is not easier than age 2 was. Not by any stretch of the imagination. The tantrums are crazier, the reasons behind the tantrums are even less rational, and discipline has become more complex. Michael's personality is such that he can be very difficult to either reward or punish. He has what I call the "cut of your nose to spite your face" gene. He often becomes so emotionally invested in "winning" that there is no suitable punishment that is enough of a deterrent to motivate him to give in. I'm pretty sure he would watch me throw away every toy, DVD, and Popsicle before giving in. I have no idea how long he would be willing to sit in his room doing nothing, because I'm not willing to leave him in there for hours. He gets THAT invested sometimes. (And I refer to it as a gene becuase I know exactly where it came from.)
Just because 3 has been hard at times, doesn't mean I'm not loving 3. I am. Michael has become such a complex and funny little person that the 95% of the time when he isn't a raving lunatic is just wonderful.
From Laura's post, it seems that one thing that has made 3 easier is that her boys now play with each other and keep themselves occupied. They have reached a new level of maturity that 1) gives Laura and Jon a break, and 2) is about as cute as cute can get. I saw a touch of this same maturity with Michael the other day when he played with the little girl at the playground. For once he was having a great time, and it didn't require constant vigilance from me. I know how huge that is for me, so I can just imagine what that must feel like for parents of twins.
Another thing that I'm enjoying is Michael's increasing awareness of his world and how he expresses it. Last night before bed Michael told me that he does not like his bed. I thought he might be refering to the fact that we converted it to a toddler bed so I asked him what he didn't like about his bed. He corrected himself and informed me that what he didn't like was actually his sleep. With further prompting I was able to get him to explain that the reason he doesn't like sleep is because it's boring.
I love conversations like this. I'm amazed at how well he can articulate his thoughts and feelings. I love how he is interacting with his world and how he expresses what those interactions mean to him.
And this is why 3 amazes me more than 2. There is just so much more to Michael's personality. I cannot wait to see how this progresses over the years. I just hope that we get a few breaks from the less pleasant side effects that come along with this increasing awareness of the world around him.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
- When Michael goes potty, he now has to climb up on the big toilet, drape his legs over the edges and then go pee pee. It's so funny to watch. I swear every time he does it that he's going to fall in, but he never has.
- We only see this once a day because he will only use the potty before bed.
- My mom will be having surgery in a few weeks. I'm a bit stressed out about it all. Not so much fear for her health, but how to juggle caring for her and Michael while doing all of my normal stuff. (Natural orifice robotic surgery to remove her uterus and ovaries for age related causes.)
- They had a small animal event outside the work cafeteria today. They were giving away "free" kittens. They were so cute. I wanted to adopt the little black one.
- I think Andy would divorce me if I brought home a kitten without consulting him.
- I did not adopt the kitten.
- Yesterday was a crazy day, full of crazy people. I'm glad I had sane people who witnessed it, otherwise I might think I'm the crazy person.
- Michael's band-aide, from the flu shot he got last week, finally fell off at my mom's the other day. Michael looked at the band-aide, then at his arm and told my mom, "My band-aide came off and it took my booboo with it."
- The next day, I found the band-aide that fell off at my mom's in Michael's bedroom. I have no idea how it got there. Well, I know who put it there, but not how he got it there.
- My mom had several moles removed this week. Two of them were "melanoma type". My mom is not sure exactly what the dermatologist meant by that, but I sure do intend to find out.
- Michael and I went to visit my sister's mostly finished new house on Saturday. My take was that it was very nice. Michael's take was that it was, "Boring, boring, boring."
- My sister has to beagles. Her house is NEVER boring.
- I have Gymbucks to spend...but I'm afraid of the damage that may cause.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
The weather was really nice on Sunday so I took Michael to one of the local playgrounds to enjoy the last days of summer. I never know what to expect when we are there. Sometimes he latches onto a group of kids and plays nicely, other times he can get pushy and I eventually have to remove him from the area to calm him down. I was hoping for a playing nicely kind of day, and I got more than I asked for.
Michael quickly joined in playing with a small group of girls. They were each helping on another up the slides and the stairs, running and giggling, and just in general being cute kids. However, when two of the girls left, Michael and the remaining girl just clicked. She was a little younger than Michael, but she was a bit more fearless. It was like they both brought out the best in one another.
The little girl's mom and I stood back and watched them go. They would go down the slide, hand-in-hand; laughing the whole way. Once they hit the bottom, they would race each other across the playground to the furthest ladder, climb back up and then wind their way back to the slide. It was clear that they were both having the best time ever and I think they would have played together for hours if they had the chance. It was so cute. I really wanted to snap some pictures, but I just don't think it's polite to take pictures of other's kids on a playground.
Eventually, the little girl needed to leave. Her mom had to pick her up and carry her off the playground because she clearly did not want to leave. Michael found another group of kids to play with in a few minutes, but it just wasn't the same magic as it had been with the little girl. He had fun, but he didn't mind when I gave him the 5 minute warning that it was time to go.
The good thing about being a parent is that these seem to be the times I remember. It's not that I'll forget that we had bad weekends, I'm sure that will linger for a while. But, the mental image of Michael holding the little girls hand while going down the slide, will stick with me for much longer. That's just how it should be.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
There was a moment, during my recent blogging mommy trip to NYC, when a horrible realization came to me. I was the oldest mommy in the group. The OLDEST.
The media tends to be polite when referring to older moms. They like to call us mature moms. I guess it’s a politically correct euphemism, but it’s not very accurate. I may have been the oldest mom of the group, but I certainly wasn’t the most mature. I mean really, I still giggle uncontrollably every time Michael toots. I can just picture his first day of Kindergarten. He’ll let out a little toot and look around for laughter, only to be met by most of the other kids, and the teacher looking at him like he’s gross. No, mature I am not.
Older, well yes, I am that.
It’s can be a strange thing to be an older mom. I don’t feel older. In my mind, I’m still 27. I have no problem climbing on jungle gyms or picking Michael up and power bombing him onto the sofa. I’m probably a little calmer then I was 10 years ago, but since that’s a benefit, I don’t really notice very often. Overall, I don’t really notice any difference between me younger moms. (Funny, calling younger moms “less mature” doesn’t sound as nice as calling older moms “mature,” does it?”
But, then I go and do crazy things like look in the mirror and it becomes pretty obvious that I am an older mom. And, you know what? It sort of sucks.
I remember what it was like to go bra shopping when I was 23. I’d got to
This week I finally addressed another area that I have been in denial about. My skin. I do not have 23 year old skin anymore. As much as I hate to admit it, the $9 Maybelline foundation and powder I have been using just doesn’t provide the coverage I need it to anymore. I pulled out the $12 Revlon foundation and tried it out. Nope. Then I pulled out the $10 Neutrogena foundation I had bought a while back. It didn’t cut it either. I was not happy.
I knew what I needed to do. I needed to head to the mall and do something I’ve been putting off for several years. I needed to go to MAC and get some help. I’ve joked that the reason I haven’t done this is because I know that buying MAC foundation is the same as buying the oval Thomas and Friends set. The extra money for the Oval set is no big deal. But then, you have to buy an extra Spencer. Next you need a track expansion pack. Then one day you realized you have dumped several hundred dollars into these stupid little trains, and you don’t even have the train table yet. I just know that buying MAC foundation will lead to buying MAC powder, then MAC blush, MAC lipstick, MAC eye shadow. And that still doesn’t even address the fact that none of that stuff comes with brushes.
However, that was really only a joke to cover up the real reason I hadn’t gone to the MAC store yet. The real reason was that I didn’t want to walk in and have to confess to a very stylish, 22 year old that I need makeup that will actually cover up the age spots that are starting to show up on my face*. And maybe helps downplay the crow’s feet. And balance out the uneven tones. And…
I just didn’t want to do that.
But I did.
And it was expensive.
It was also totally worth it.
That’s one good thing about being a mature mom is that I have an established career and I can afford to pay a little extra to hide some of the flaws that age has produced. And, as long as I don’t look in the mirror, I still feel like a less mature mommy.
*Another good reason to wear sunscreen ladies. Even if you don’t get skin cancer, age spots suck too.