Family, Uncategorized
I was determined. To heal quickly from my cesarean.
To conquer the idea that I now had TWO kids rather than 1.
To get out of the house.
To prove to myself that although I don’t have family nearby, or neighbors to help out, I was completely capable.
I had been told by several of my friends not to even try it- it couldn’t be done. But I didn’t listen.
A friend of mine suggested that I order the groceries online to be delivered to my home. Another one suggested that I wait until my husband came home from work. I had considered waiting until the toddler had preschool and then take only the infant to the store. All good options, but I had issues with each one: I didn’t want to pay the delivery fee, my husband was working late, and my toddler only had preschool twice a week.
The refrigerator was empty, and so was the pantry.
I had no choice but to attempt this intricate task…today.
It started off fine, believe it or not. As I walked the aisles in the store, I remember thinking, “Hey! This is easy. I can accomplish this!” Of course it was very premature. I was worried that my toddler would take issue with walking NEXT to the grocery basket as opposed to being IN it, since the infant had now taken the prime and ONLY seat available, but actually he seemed to be proud at his new role as the big brother. I was especially grateful that the toddler did not disappear and then attempt to leave the store as he had done several months earlier, at a time when I was pregnant and too handicapped to be able to chase after him.
I confess that I had bribed the toddler with a box of cookies, so he was in fact behaving himself.
The first hitch began when I got to the car and realized that with the double stroller, the diaper bag, and BOTH car seats taking up the entire back seat, I had very little room for groceries.
I made a mental note to bring up the issue of purchasing a bigger vehicle to my husband that evening, which would prove to be a waste of my energy. I would later post my frustration on face book.
Somehow, I managed to squeeze the groceries into the unreasonably small trunk space of the Toyota Rav 4, and slam the door before anything could fall out, knowing full well that opening it again would create a new challenge. I opted not to be concerned for the moment, as I had other tasks to complete. I would cross that bridge soon enough.
Got the kids in their car-seats. First the toddler, then the infant- so as not to have the toddler running in the street and stopping traffic while belting in the infant. Drove home. Okay.
Now HERE is where the real chaos began. By the time I had pulled up to the house, my car at become a chamber of hissy fits, tears and pandemonium.
It was at this point that I realized I had a real dilemma of which action to take first. The infant needed me to nurse him, the toddler wanted his cucumber sandwich with the crusts cut off and a side of apple slices, I hadn’t eaten yet- which was an important task to accomplish before I attempted to nurse, and the groceries were melting in the car.
Plus, I had to pee. Badly. And to those ladies out there who have also been pregnant, you can attest to the fact that it takes several months before one’s bladder is even close to recovering from the trauma.
But this? This was like Sophie’s choice.
What to do first…
Feed the Toddler?
Feed the Infant?
Feed myself?
Save the melting groceries?
Save my bladder?
To be honest, I don’t remember how it went. But the important thing is that it all worked out… because, well, here we are.
As I write this, my well-fed boys are napping (another miracle in itself!), my bladder has been emptied, and the groceries have been put away. Somehow I survived, and I am now able to chalk this up to another lesson learned about how I need not over-extend myself and to know my limitations as a mother.
From now on, I shop when the toddler is at preschool, or my husband is home from work. If I get desperate, I will sit down at the computer and type my grocery list into the virtual shopping cart. If I get REALLY desperate, I will take the boys out to eat.
Now, onto the next task: How to convince my husband that we need a minivan.
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Chris Loprete, daddysden, Family
Written by Chris Loprete
Every summer during my childhood my family would drive 7 hours south to North Carolina from Pennsylvania. On the way we would have to cross over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, a 17 mile long bridge that spans the picturesque Chesapeake Bay, in Virginia. There are 2 places along the span where the bridge goes under water and turns into a tunnel. It always looks so foreboding from the northern side. You can’t see the end of it and the bridge just disappears into water in 2 places. When we were halfway across, I always thought, “If this thing goes, we’re in real trouble.” and, “How do they get traffic through if there’s an accident? We could be here for hours.” Then when we got to terra firma on the other side, I always realized that I had just experienced the most thrilling part of the 7 hour trip and actually looked forward to that part of the drive every summer. Well, lately I’ve been feeling like I’m halfway across another bridge. This bridge is a “transitional” bridge with the young adult starting a family on one side and the middle aged family man on the other. Like the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, its long, I can’t see the other side and I may even go under water a couple of times. But I know that I really should relax, enjoy the ride and be confident that a sandy beach waits for me up ahead. To tell you truth though, I’m just plain exhausted.
I quote the late, great Madelaine Khan from Blazing Saddles, ”I’mmm soooo tired.” (cue the chorus of German soldiers). Now if you’re reading this blog, most likely you’re a mommy or daddy which means you’re saying, “Yeah. Cry me a river, dude. We’re all tired.” I KNOW! I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. I’m just telling you my own experiences. That’s why these blogs are so brilliant and relatable. I truly am a magnificent talent. Anywho…
I’m the happiest I’ve been in a year. I don’t want you to mistake my exhaustion for depression. And I’m not even THAT tired currently…although I was literally up all night nursing my wife through the granddaddy of all migraines so I guess I AM exhausted at this exact moment. Generally speaking though, I am not really that worn out. Still last Monday morning I woke up looking at another work week and I almost collapsed in the shower for some reason. I just started to anticipate the coming months and years and how draining it was going to be. We’re 6 weeks from giving birth to our 2nd child…a boy… who has a 3 year old brother…who has boundless energy. I’m truly excited for the arrival of the newest member of our club and am not half as scared I was when we had our first son, BUT I’m also anticipating the work that accompanies another infant and toddler. In addition we just put our house on the market which means it’s very possible that someone could make an offer soon. That would mean we would have about 4 weeks to find another place, pack up and move….and I told you about the baby coming in 6 weeks right? Well, it’s probably more like 4. So while I’m driving my wife to the hospital, I can say to her, “Okay hon, but let me stop and drop a couple of boxes off at the new home first.” To top it all off I have a creative job that I LOVE and while it is far from digging a ditch or working on the freeway, it is constantly busy and mentally draining. And of course I’m hoping that I will keep working my way up the ladder which means more responsibilities and harder deadlines.
Am I really writing a blog about being tired? Geez. Tune in next month for my compelling blog entitled, I’m Hungry!
I guess my point is this. When does it start to get easier? Or does it? Growing up, I never saw my parents sweat. Everything just seemed to be settled and pretty easy. A nice home, vacations, clothes on our back and food on our table. Were they just protecting us kids from their tough times and stressful worries? It’s very likely. I guess that’s one of the many perks of being a kid. So I guess my situation isn’t any different than normal families. It’s just that I want so badly to give my kids everything I had and never make them feel guilty or even let them see me work hard for it. I don’t think there’s a time in the foreseeable future when that will happen. I’m tired of struggling. I’m tired of working at settling down. I want to BE settled. When Braden was first born I had a difficult time crossing the bridge to fatherhood, but now that I’m on the other side, I love it and I’m ready to live that life fully. When can we start saving money instead of living paycheck to paycheck? When can we take a family vacation? When do my wife and I start getting invited to those fun suburban key parties like the ones they had in the 70’s?
(KIDDING!!!! Please don’t hate me for that last one. It was time for a joke.)
When do I join the middle class for real? I can’t blame it on the recession either. My wife and I have always worked in the entertainment industry. We’ve been in a recession since the day after our college graduation. I am so incredibly fortunate that I’m married to my best friend, have the greatest little boy in the world (better than yours. sorry), have a roof over my head and a job (to say nothing of the fact that I’m in the rare situation of having a job that I enjoy!) So don’t get me wrong. I count my blessings every day. I’m just….ready to get to the other side of the bridge. And really tired.
Family, Uncategorized
Written by Ally Loprete
I don’t know how many more times I will be able to get away with the excuse that I am pregnant every time I have a brain fart. Seriously, my brain seems to be functioning less and less the larger the baby in my belly grows. Does the bloat travel upward to our heads as well? I am a bit of ditz, anyway- as my closest friends will tell you. And it’s not for lack of trying, or lack of caring. In fact, I used to be quite sensitive to the blond hair on my head until I met my husband and he helped me learn to laugh at my malapropisms and idiosyncrasies. There. A perfect example of how I mix metaphors and folk lore.
It’s times like these that I notice the difference in the patience level among my friends who parents like me, and those that are not. Not that I blame them, as I know I had less patience before I became a parent. It’s not that I was an insensitive person, but looking back, I see how easy it was to be judgmental. If we witnessed children acting up in a restaurant, for example, my husband and I would whisper to each other that when we have kids, we would make sure that they would behave much better that that. We’d nit-pick at the parents who were obviously are not giving their children the correct attention or discipline. Looking back at that time and that old me, I want to reach back into the past and smack my face. How dare I? The truth is, I barely recognize the person that I was before I had children and perhaps those unsympathetic notions are punishing me today with a very active toddler, often difficult to control in public places.
I used to be embarrassed by loud childhood behavior and public temper tantrums- especially the ones where my son would lay down in a high traffic area out of protest for not wanting me to hold his hand and force him to go in MY direction rather than his own. After nearly a year of this, I stopped apologizing to the disapproving strangers while they stepped over the obviously “poor parented” child on the ground, and stopped caring altogether what they must think of me.
But back to me and the air in my brain.
It’s gotten significantly worse upon becoming a parent, beginning with my first pregnancy. The term is called Pregnancy Brain: a lapse in awareness because of the fatigue that comes with creating a child and the big belly that causes a disruption in balance resulting in complete and total clumbsiness. Once the baby is born, the brain then transforms to Mommy Brain: a lapse in awareness resulting from sleepless nights and lack of adult interaction during the work week.
Of course, just as my toddler began sleeping through the night and I began to meet other numbed brained parents with whom I might commiserate did I rediscover all that lost energy returning. Of course, I became pregnant again soon after. Hello, pregnancy brain, can’t say that I missed you, but welcome back.
It’s no easier the second time around, either. The only difference is that I have stopped apologizing for it, and I’ve accepted it as part of the 9 month cycle. This is not to say that I don’t use the Pregnancy Brain explanation on a daily basis. The thing that I’ve noticed is that I don’t even need to give the explanation to my parent friends. They just nod in empathy when I’ve forgotten something obviously simple, like …oh…my own son’s name, or the year we are living in, or how to write a proper sentence. They get it…because they’ve either been there, or they are there with me now and didn’t even notice.
Yet, for all my non-parent friends, who I love as much as I ever did, for whom I find myself envying now and again for the motor in their minds that is still operating at full functionality- I forgive you for not quite understanding, but appreciate your acceptance, nonetheless. It would appear that parenthood kills more brain cells than the occasional kegger.
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Uncategorized
Written by Ally Loprete
As the owner of OMM and a representative of so many members, I’ve had to do something I’ve never done before, and that is to swallow my political opinions and keep them to myself for the sake of everyone. This is because I care about all of our members, the parents who are working hard to support their children and are doing so by running their own businesses. I did not want anyone to think for a moment that I if my opinions differed from theirs in the political arena, that I was not FOR them, when I certainly am.
But I feel the time has come to open my mouth a little. There is so much happening in our country right now that I feel it almost ridiculous not to talk about it, especially when so much of it affects us directly and what we are trying to achieve as an organization dedicated to working moms and dads. So I’ll just say it. I love President Obama. I believe in what he is trying to accomplish, and I think for the first time ever, our voices are being heard.
According to a recent letter I received from Momsrising.org, the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act was the first piece of legislation signed by President Obama, both the House and Senate passed an expanded State Children’s Health Insurance Program (SCHIP), and now the Senate is getting ready to vote on an economic recovery package that has a number of key provisions that would directly help moms and their families.
Whether you like Barack Obama as a candidate or not, I think we can all agree that we have been fearful of anyone to step into the white house and take on the mess that has been left for him. Therefore, we are fearful of any new maneuvers that the new president will take on to help the situation. But the reason I am so impressed with Obama is because he is not afraid to take risks. He did not take office to sit quietly and second guess every move that might rock the boat. He is diving in and making something happen. I think if we all follow suit, something WILL happen.
When Our Milk Money was just a blip of an idea, the economy was not in the state that it is today, yet it was created for this exact time. Let me tell you a quick story, that you may or may not have already heard. Before OMM was conceived, I was trying to price a piece of jewelry that I had made, and wondered how it would compare to the prices in the department stores. I guessed $50 would be a good price. And then I imagined all that I could do with an extra $50; a tank of gas, a small trip to the grocery store for milk, bread, eggs, cheese and some fruit, a month of Gymboree classes for my toddler, date night with my husband…
It wasn’t difficult to conclude that $50 was more valuable to me and my family than a large corporation or department store. I wondered if anyone else would care about that value enough to make an effort to change their spending habits and buy my product over someone elses. Yes. Other parents would feel the same way, I just had to find them. I made a decision right then and there that I would make an effort to search for a parent who might possibly be selling whatever it is I needed each time I made a purchase. With the internet, and the master search guru I had become, I should be able to find anything online, right? Wrong. I searched and searched. Nowhere could I find the answers I was looking for.
The rest, you probably know. Our Milk Money, and the first parent only business directory was born.
Why am I talking about this now, almost a year later? Because while I am thrilled to see that our directory is growing, I am concerned about how little it is being used. I imagine that the excuse is that our country is in a state of crisis and people are just not spending money. Wrong. If there was ever a time to use the directory, its now. What better time to rebuild the economy in a way that supports small businesses than right now? The slate is practically clean at this point. And while the excuse is that people aren’t spending money right now, I beg to differ. We are all spending it. That hasn’t stopped. It can’t stop, because in this country we need to spend money to survive. We need to buy things to live, even if they are just necessities. Well, guess what! Those “necessities” are available for purchase by a parent somewhere in your local community, and may even be listed in the Our Milk Money business directory. If you are a parent, you have even more reason to support the directory, because it benefits you as well. We are an organization and a community of parents that need to stick together. What are YOU doing to support others like you?
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