DotMoms

Welcome to the vomitorium

By Anne-Marie

Circumstances make you teach your kids funny things. Recently on two separate occasions, Nathan threw up red Jell-O and red medicine on the living room carpet. To get the stains out required a professional carpet cleaning. So when Nathan threw up his breakfast on the kitchen floor last Tuesday, I was proud of him. For once he had listened to us and didn't puke on the carpet.

Still he doesn't understand that when his tummy is sick, he shouldn't eat. That day he kept asking for things like ice cream, ham, and cheese slices. For a kid who never eats much, he was unusually ravenous. It was a battle to make sure he ate bland things like bananas and soup. He was fine by that evening.

Late Friday night, Lucie woke up, violently threw up all over her crib, and started screaming. Feeling miserable, she puked twice more on me that night. She was sick again Saturday morning, took an early nap and was her normal self by noon.

Luckily my husband and I didn't get sick. We were just a little more sleep-deprived and loaded down with laundry than usual. Nathan must have picked up a bug somewhere, maybe from a shopping cart, and then given it to Lucie. I didn't think twice about it.

However, yesterday the vomitorium reopened for business. Nathan threw up twice on the kitchen floor and once in the back hall. (Well, at least my floors are cleaner now.) He said his tummy hurt, and he wasn't been able to keep anything down. Now I'm waiting for Lucie to get sick. I'm sure she will, as she hasn't had much of an appetite, is acting clingy, and napped earlier and longer than usual. It's inevitable and all plans to go out have been cancelled.

So I sit here wondering what the hell is up. Am I not keeping the house clean enough? Should the kids wash their hands more often? Maybe they're drinking too much bathwater. (I know, gross.) And after reading an article about getting hepatitis A from imported produce, I'm thinking that I shouldn't let them eat fresh fruit.

It's ridiculous what a little throwing up will do to your confidence as a mother.

We could be heroes

By Anne-Marie

During a recent interview of teenage volunteers, I asked them who their heroes were. I expected them to name political leaders, authors, scientists, or maybe a few fictional characters. Instead, the overwhelming majority of them said, "My parents."

They proceeded to give examples of how their parents helped with homework after a long day at their jobs, or picked them up late at night when their car broke down.

Later that night, I mentioned it to my husband. He told me about a study that showed kids who did well in school named their parents as their heroes. (The teens I interviewed were all honor students in advanced placement classes.) The kids who were average or poor students mentioned entertainers or sport figures.

If someone had asked me who were my heroes when I was a teenager, I would have said Joan of Arc and Kurt Vonnegut. But my parents? No way.

Unlike these teens, my parents were hands off when it came to school. I was expected to study and do homework on my own. However, they did set a good example for my sister and me. They stressed the importance of being polite, showing respect to your elders, the value of books, art, culture and learning, an appreciation for good food, respecting family traditions, and donating to charitable causes.

Back then I expected heroes to be larger than life. Now I realize that true heroes are just everyday folk doing what is important, whether helping their kids study or checking on an elderly neighbor during a power outage. It is the little things that count.

So how do I become a hero to Nathan and Lucie? By making them my top priority, supporting their interests, helping them in school, and being a role model.

How can you be a hero to your kids?

Passing down

By Anne-Marie

Recently, my son Nathan started micro t-ball, his first time playing an organized sport. The same week, my husband Paul came home from a visit with his orthopedic surgeon and announced, "That's it. I'm done. No more softball, basketball or skiing. Just golf, fishing and hunting." I found it ironic that just as his son was starting out in organized sports, Paul was leaving them.

Paul lettered in four sports in high school (football, baseball, basketball and golf), and played in organized sports ever since he was old enough to do so. It's been hard for him to realize that he is physically unable to participate anymore. Still he finds solace in playing sports with Nathan. His love for the various games, the physical exertion, and being outdoors has always been something he's wanted to pass down to his children. And it's something I've supported as an avid non-athlete and professional football fan.

It's been harder to pass down my great love, reading, as my children are still small. We have bookcases full of children's books, mostly from our childhood collections. We read to them, but it's hard to get them to sit still for long. Nathan didn't develop the patience to look through a book by himself until very recently. He would rather go outside and hit a golf ball. Lucie, at 15 months, is the child who likes books. Often I find her playing with her board books, something Nathan never did at her age. Since both kids enjoy story time at school and the library, I'm hopeful that they'll develop a reading habit as they get older.

I see this passing down as something I've learned from my parents. My mother shared with me her love of cooking, something her mother passed down to her. Unlike many women who never learned to cook because their mothers didn't want to share the kitchen and the limelight, my mother always encouraged my efforts. Cooking was never a competition and she enabled me to find my own niche, baking and cake decorating.

Following my mother's example, Paul and I are passing down our favorite activities to Nathan and Lucie. What pastimes are you passing down to your children?

Another kind of day-care dilemma

By Anne-Marie

I decided that if I was to be serious about freelance writing, I needed some time alone without my children. I wanted large blocks of time and some peace and quiet to write seriously. Nap times were too short and I was often too exhausted at night to write. I could manage it somewhat, but wanted to devote some serious time to my craft.

A new day-care center opened near our home last spring, so I enrolled Nathan and Lucie for one full day a week. Even though I was impressed with the facility and its caregivers, and liked how they structured the children's days, I felt guilty about putting them there. After all, couldn't I just manage to write here and there as I did before? Wasn't being with the kids more important than writing?

As the day approached, I started justifying my decision. I told myself it was easier and cheaper than a summer camp for Nathan. I thought it would be good for him to continue socializing with kids his age and other adults in a preschool-like setting. I figured he'd be fine once he got used to it, especially since he did so well during his first year of preschool.

I felt guiltier about Lucie. At nearly 15 months, she was still a total mama's girl and did not like being away from me. I wondered how she would get along with other children and different caregivers. I calmed my fears by telling myself that she was a social child and had recently done well with a babysitter.

Finally, I shut up my inner critic by telling myself that I had been doing this mothering gig for nearly 4 and a half years and desperately needed a break. I needed time to recharge my batteries and to devote some time to personal goals. Still, I had anxiety dreams for several nights before day care started.

I am happy to report that our first day at day-care was successful. I dropped the kids off without any crying or clinginess. When I came to pick them up, Nathan was excited to tell me about his day. He thanked me for school, as we call it, and told me he could not wait for next week. Lucie was happy to see me, even though she was ravenous and tired. Both kids were singing new songs, and Lucie seemed to have grown up a little as she was more verbal than usual with her demands for cookies, cheese, banana, and a bottle. I think the kids may have even missed each other as they spent dinnertime roaring in each other's faces and laughing.

So what did I do on my first day without the kids? I got a pedicure, went grocery shopping, and then deep cleaned the house for six hours. So much for writing. But now, there is always next week.

A specter of things to come

By Anne-Marie

When my kids’ eczema flares up, their dad says, “You get your yucky skin from your mama.” Unfortunately, it’s true. And since I had eczema, allergies and asthma as a child, my children are more likely to develop these conditions. So when I read about a medical study at National Jewish Medical and Research Center trying to determine if treating eczema in infancy prevents asthma, I enrolled my daughter, Lucie. I did it more out of curiosity than concern as I blamed Colorado’s dry climate for her skin condition. After all, she’s the spitting image of her father, so there was no way she was going to inherit any of my problems.

How wrong I was. Last week Lucie had a very strong reaction to baby sunscreen and broke out in severe hives over 80 percent of her body. The hives have gone away, but her eczema is now much worse. Could this mean she’ll develop her mama’s allergies and asthma? Only time will tell, but I really, really hope not.

In the ‘70s there were only drugs to treat -- not prevent -- asthma, so having allergies and asthma was about what I wasn’t able to have or do. I couldn’t have a dog, because I was very allergic to animals. I couldn’t participate in sports, because my asthma was exercise-induced. I couldn’t eat chocolate, because it triggered my asthma. I wasn’t able to participate in an exchange student program because of my asthma. I couldn’t spend the night at a friend’s, because I was allergic to the wool carpeting in their house. The list went on and on.

So what does this mean for Lucie? There have been great advances in preventative drugs. I often read stories of athletes with asthma playing professional sports or participating in the Olympics. Still I don’t want her to go through life having limits on what she can do, but there’s nothing to prevent it. As a former asthmatic, I know I’ll be the best support system she can have. We’ll deal with it together, if and when it comes.

Mother-friendly

By Anne-Marie

We all know that American society isn't truly kid-friendly even though we give a lot of lip service to being pro-child. However, I think private businesses do try to be child friendly, probably because they want mom and dad's money. But what about being mother-friendly? How do businesses serve a parent's needs?

Let me give you some examples. First, I love Nordstrom's because of their restrooms. You can nurse your child with some privacy and comfort in the women's lounge. They also have great changing tables, and a family restroom. Nordstrom's is always our first stop at the mall. Now if I could only afford to shop there.

Souper Salad has reasonably priced food, high chairs with wheels, and a wide variety of items that even your picky kid will eat. However, not one of the four Souper Salads close to us has diaper-changing facilities. You'd think when they ordered the high chairs, they'd get a few changing tables, too.

Love the "Thomas the Tank Engine" play table at Barnes & Noble. But what's with the two sets of heavy doors at the entrance? (Border's is guilty of this, too.) Have you ever tried pushing a stroller through them? Luckily, the bookstore-going public is polite and holds the doors open for you, but still it's maddening.

Cost-Co gets a thumbs up for kid-friendly food at the snack bar, great deals on diapers and wipes, a diaper changing table not in the handicap stall (the stall that is always occupied by an able-bodied person who thinks that it's the least used so it's the cleanest. Get wise girlfriend. Everyone else thinks the same and it's probably the most used stall of all.) What I really love is their doublewide shopping cart, which holds two kids in the seat. Nothing like having both your kids strapped down while conducting a mega-shopping session.

Speaking of carts, Ace Hardware's rock. They have mini-carts for the little ones and the big carts have cup holders. I just wish the store wasn't so expensive; I only go to ours for the cake decorating supplies.

Now it's your turn. What's your favorite mother-friendly place? And what's the worst one in your area?

What I want for Mother's Day: An open letter to my spouse

By Anne-Marie

Honey, please don't get me jewelry this year. The baby yanks it off and it hurts. And let's forego brunch. I'm tired of spending money on scarfing down food we barely taste because we're trying to finish before the kids get too antsy. Also, let's forget about going to the zoo this year. What is it you think I do with the kids during the week, and why do you think I'd want to go there on Mother's Day?

Actually, I want an un-mother's day where I can take a shower without an audience, eat a meal uninterrupted, and don't have to get anyone but me a snack. I want an un-wife's day where I don't have to find your athletic gear, don't have to discuss hiring a financial planner, and don't have to hear about the last minutes of the previous night's game.

Darling, I want an un-people day where I can read all day in bed uninterrupted by telemarketers, and don't have to deal with our credit card company's customer service idiots. I want an un-in-law day so I don't have to hear your mega-martyr mother complain about the non-white people in her apartment complex. Maybe you should suggest that she move.

I want a stop-idiotic-television day where Oprah doesn't tell me how dirty my home is. I don't need to be pressured into becoming a bigger drudge than I already am. After all, this isn't the '50s and I believe germs that don't kill you make you stronger.

I just want a little peace and quiet so I can recharge my batteries. What mama needs this Mother's Day is a big ol' time out. How 'bout it sweetie?

What do you want for Mother's Day?