I write this letter humbly and sincerely seeking your mercy for I have put forth into this world a host for all things germy, slimey, gooey and gross. This creature, known to many as simply “toddler,” oozes wherever he goes, bringing a warning of ick with every nose drip.
“Keep him home,” the people warn. Spare us from his bacteria-covered hands and viral embraces. And keep him there, I often do, but this creature is a sneaky one, often showing no signs of yuck until you are smacked by the Flu.
So to my loved ones who are home sneezing; to my friends with sore throats; to those commuters who had the poor luck to sit near myself and germ magnet; to all of you, I say:
Long before marriage and family was a possible thought in my brain, I watched an episode of a daytime talk show (I want to say it was Oprah), which would shape how I would eventually set up my home.
In this episode, a very famous decorator/designer (I want to say it was Nate Berkus), was the special guest, whose task was to revamp a couple’s home. I can’t recall what colors he painted their walls, or what artwork he picked for their living room or what curtains he hung on their windows. However, when it came to their bedroom, one thing the designer said planted itself in my brain:
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Motherhood is far from perfect. In fact, it is often downright difficult. Yet, despite the numerous resources available to new moms or moms-to-be, very few provide the raw, in-depth truth they seek. Maybe, it is because people are afraid of “scaring” moms. Well, women are pretty tough, and moms are about as strong as you can get. To borrow from “A Few Good Men,” not only can we handle the truth, we need it, badly.
Enter, Mom Life: Perfection Pending, the new book, from Absolute Publishing, authored by beloved blogger, writer and meme-extraordinaire, Meredith Ethington. Continue reading →
I am a terrible liar. Withholding truth manifests as physical discomfort in my body. Perhaps, this is why my five-year-old knows more about where babies come from than most of his peers, and I will probably end up buzz killing the tooth fairy. If there was an opposite for compulsive liars, it would be me. I am compulsively honest.
My propensity toward the truth doesn’t mean I never lie, or skew the facts. There are aspects of my life, which I choose not to share on this blog, for example, as well as the general societal expectations, such as not telling a stranger you find there outfit unattractive. We all have to navigate our own reality.
We are a society craving authenticity. We want to experience things that are tangible and real. We want to read an article and not have to second-guess its motives. We want to follow our favorite influencers and trust they are presenting their true selves.
What is truth? Seems like a simple enough question to answer. Truth means facts. Truth is real. Truth is right. Truth cannot be debated or skewed. There is the truth and there are lies. Continue reading →
Raising children is a lifelong lesson in letting go. From the moment they are born, our instinct is to protect them, to shield them, to make their lives easier. We help them with as much as we can — not because we are overprotective — but, because we love them and want them to succeed.
Ultimate success, however, comes by stepping back, and letting our kids do more on their own. Each age offers new opportunities for growth, and each family can decide what works best for them.
I look out for signs from my kids to guide me about when they might be ready to try new tasks. So, when my son, who is five, started insisting on making meatballs on his on, I let him. Continue reading →
Around the time my youngest turned two, he became difficult to put to bed. I would start his routine with a bath, then dress him in his pajamas, read him a story or two, and then cuddle for a bit. After a few minutes, however, he would jump out of bed and run downstairs. My husband or I would grab him and bring him back up, but inevitably he’d bolt again. It didn’t matter if one of us was in the room, he didn’t want to be there.
We tried leaving him in the room, but he would keep coming out. more agitated each time.
Eventually, we would just give up, and let our son play downstairs. Mind you this was already well past 9 p.m., and eating into our chill time. Aside from the obvious reasons to get our kids to bed early, my husband and I were missing out on our time together.
You might be thinking, maybe you are putting him to bed too early? Maybe he just isn’t ready for bed before 10 p.m.?
Most toddlers need to be in bed well before 10, and mine is no exception. The day after a late bedtime, my child was cranky and miserable, until he inevitably crashed late in the afternoon, when even just a 30 minute nap would push his bedtime back by hours. It was a horrible cycle.
I am a member of several Facebook groups for moms. They have become so common, that poking fun of them has become standard practice. For better or worse, they have a huge influence on parents, and can be quite helpful. I know lots of parents who say they could not survive without them.
What if our little ones had the same access to Facebook (and knew how to read, write and engage in snarky banter)? What would their posts look like?