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Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Feminism and the Gilmore Girls

Good morning!

I have started this new every day thing, where Violet has a snack while I clean the kitchen, and we watch an episode or two of Gilmore Girls. Did you know that Lorelei is supposed to be just a year older than me in this show? Seems odd. She looks older. Acts older. Maybe that's the point - that she had to grow up fast because she had her daughter at 16.

Anyway, this particular episode was really centered on Rory and her boyfriend of the time, Dean. It begins with a (hinted at) long standing tradition of Rory and her mother watching episodes of Donna Reed, and poking fun at all things 50s about them, as they usually do. Rory's boyfriend, Dean, enters the conversation, and points out that maybe it isn't so bad that Donna Reed cooks every meal for her family. The Gilmores are appalled. How dare he?! Donna Reed is what everything is wrong about the 50s, right? The whole, "Barefoot and pregnant" era.

The episode continues in usual fashion, but the argument rears its ugly head once more. Dean points out that maybe she liked doing those things. Maybe it's a nice idea that a woman would want to cook dinner and clean the house and provide that for her family. He then goes on to say his own mother did this.

I have to say, I agree with Dean. I used to think that it was such an antiquated idea. Dinner on the table by five, staying at home with the kids. Being in charge of the laundry, and dishes while the husband works.

I was a working mom once. I felt I had an equal partnership with my husband. And then I got let go. And you know what happened? Nothing about that changed. I was thrown into a role I never thought I wanted, and I STILL feel every bit as equal to my husband (Sometimes superior! haha, just kidding.)

I don't cook in this house. Sure, I can make a few things, but I prefer for Chris to do all of the cooking. Everything he makes just tastes better. Maybe because I don't enjoy the effort. But I do most of the laundry, the cleaning, and taking care of the baby. And I want to do those things. I'm good at it. It makes my days go by faster, and my nights more relaxed because, for once, I have the time to keep a fairly clean house.

And I know many others who feel the same way. Feminism is not fighting the stereotypical roles, it's fighting for the choice to do what you want to do, not what you have to or is expected of you. I am not expected to stay home. I am not expected to clean the kitchen, or do the laundry. I am expected to take care of the baby all day, because frankly, no one else is around to do it, and it's kind of my job description right now.

I do these things because I want to do them. And if I ever don't want to, my husband will be just fine with that.

That being said, I still love the Gilmore Girls. I only hope I can have as good of a relationship as that with my own daughter some day. A good balance between parent and friend. But probably more on the parent side.

Happy Wednesday!

Love,
Dominique

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

53 Minutes

Happy Wednesday! I hope everyone had a great Easter weekend.

As per most holidays, we went home to Mobile to spend the weekend with our families. We had our celebration on Saturday, as it was the only day everyone's schedules would allow. We had the whole fam over and enjoyed an Easter Egg Hunt and early afternoon dinner. So, this left Sunday open for everyone to kind of do their own thing.

Well, in true CEO Catholic fashion, I decided to take my 14 month old toddler to Easter Mass with my sister. I dressed her in her Sunday best, put on my most springish dress, and headed straight for the St. Dominic's cry room. If your church doesn't have a cry room, I'll explain it now. It's basically exactly what it sound likes. It's a small room in the back of the church with an all-window front, where parents can bring their small babies - and less-than-perfect small children - and still enjoy the mass without the paranoia that everyone is staring at your kid who is asking "WHEN IS IT OOOOOOVER?!" every five minutes in their outside voice.

Knowing my squirmy girl, I warned my sister that we weren't even going to attempt to sit in the normal pews, but that she was welcome to abandon us for the quieter life if she wanted to. She said it was no problem, so 30 minutes ahead of time we found our place in the front of the room and started our mission.

I had packed the variable arsenal of things needed to distract my daughter into behaving - books, toys, puffs, water.I marveled at how well we had started off. She was curious enough about her surroundings to be content being held so she could look around, but that soon changed. As more and more children began to flood into the small room, I could feel her getting anxious. My stress levels started to rise as she began her inevitable "Noodling" process. Her body goes surprisingly limp and it gets increasingly harder to get a grip on her. I knew I had but one chance to stop it before she got out of control, so I started with the least messy option. Murray. Murray is the lamb she got for Easter, and yes, I named it Murray. Because every time I saw it, I couldn't stop singing the Murray has a little lamb theme song from Sesame Street.

Murray was quickly tossed to the ground in defiance, so we moved on to books. Another fail, I was getting desperate. I knew what I had to do. I planted her squarely on her bottom on the pew, and gave her the one thing that works every time. The Snack Cup.

Here's what I DON'T like about the snack cup. Sure, it's spill proof, but that doesn't mean she won't drop it 1 million times, nor does it's mean that it's contents won't turn her in a puffs dust covered sticky monster. However, it is my only salvation for most trips with her. The snack cup worked it's magic for a while, but about halfway through the service, she had decidedly had enough. She wanted to explore. To walk around. To take things from other children like Attila the Hun.

This is when we made our first exit. I took her out into the main entrance hall to see the stained glass windows, where I quickly discovered I was not alone. One frustrated dad was going back and forth with each of his 6 child brood in hand, and at one point looked at me and said "Yours is so good!"

Is she? Because she's driving me bananas. But I guess in his mind, at least I wasn't dealing with an army. At this point we were pretty close to the Communion part of the service, which is basically the Thursday of a Mass. Very close to the end, but you're not quite there yet. Knowing the room would be considerably emptier as each parent took turns going to receive communion, we headed back in.

Ah, a few moments peace. The room felt considerably larger, and I was once again lulled into a false sense of security that we could get through this. Then all of the children returned. All at once. And like a band of apes that had just figured out that the hierarchy has shifted, they all started to go crazy. I looked at my phone. 9:53. Fifty three minutes is how long it takes for all children to be completely over Easter Mass. But we still had some left! It was only Thursday!

But then I discovered the secret that most Catholic parents would likely not admit. They leave after communion. They give up the battle, and concede to the tiny little warriors, because after that - everyone is exhausted.

And all I could think was, "I can't do this every Sunday."

So bravo, Catholic parents. Bravo, anyone who attends church every Sunday with their children in tow, knowing their particular church doesn't provide a nursery.

As for me, a nursery service has moved to the number one spot on my list of potential church needs if we ever start looking. At least until I can threaten her with "Santa is watching!" and she will actually listen.


Love,
Dominique






Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Choosing to Stay

Good morning! Happy Wednesday!

As I explained here this past Christmas, I didn't exactly choose Stay-At-Home-Momhood. After my sudden departure from my full time position of three years, I had people generously clamoring to help me. Offering words of support, resources, sometimes even money - and I appreciated it all. But here I am, four months later, and still staying at home with my favorite girl.

I know what some people must be thinking. What happened? Why haven't you returned to work force yet? Weren't you always a champion for the working mother, you sell out?!

Yes. I'll always be a champion for the working mother. Even now I have heated discussions (or, more so, soapbox sessions) about how unfairly working mothers are treated, and how America hates a working mom. But the truth for my situation is simple. Turns out I'm pretty good at this.

Some people are great at art, or sales, or computers. I am great at Momming. Not the best, mind you - that title is long held by my own mother - but I've really come into my own since being thrown into the position. I'm never late. I am continuously figuring out how to make things run more efficiently. I make every effort to make sure my boss is happy - and not because if I don't I'll get fired - but because I believe in her happiness. I come in early, and I stay very late. I am at her beck and call. And it never feels like work.

Isn't that what they say you should look for in a job? Something like "If you love what you do, then you'll never work another day in your life."?

It's demanding, too. Constant strategizing. Sometimes it's a war zone. Sometimes it's a showdown. Most days it's a just a normal routine, like many other jobs. It can be monotonous, and it can be absolutely nuts. But, in my opinion, it's always rewarding. I put in my time for the day, and when it's over I feel like I've accomplished something great.

That's why I am trying to keep this position for as long as God will allow me. Like with anything in this life, it's not guaranteed. Like a lot of others in the working world, circumstances may force me to move on to something else. Maybe something I'll love just as much, maybe something I won't. All I know is for now, I am putting in 150% each and every day that I physically can. And maybe my impact with my "momming" skills will pay off tremendously, no matter how short of time I had the chance to do it.

Love what you do, people! Momming or not - if you're happy, you're making a huge difference.

Love,
Dominique


Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Yelling is the New Crying - Life with a Full Blown Toddler These Days

Good morning!

Happy Tuesday to every one out there! Things sure have changed, even in the last month or so. We are approaching V's 14 month mark, and she seems to be growing in leaps and bounds. Sometimes sweet, sometimes grouchy, ALWAYS hilarious - this is what we're dealing with these days in our house.

1) Yelling is the new crying. Her new thing is to "talk" as loudly as possible if we are A)not paying attention to her. B)not watching what she wants to watch on Netflix. (turns out she's not a huge fan of House, M.D. Who knew?) and C) She doesn't feel like napping/going to bed yet/being contained in any way

2) Mealtimes are a whole new ball game. My once good eater, who would sit quietly and with wonder as I spoon fed her bites of pureed sweet potato and rice cereal, now takes meal time as a great time for her artistic expression, as well as her charitable giving to the dog. They share most of every meal, and her finger paintings with cheese sauce and spaghettios are quite good.

3)She has learned the word "No." and can shake her head as she says it. Enough said.

4)The battle of the runny nose being wiped every five seconds has been replaced with the battle of the teeth brushing. And said teeth are very sharp, and can clamp down like an iron vice grip on my hand if I get too close. It's a two man job, and just like when she hated getting her face wiped, she seems to grow three more arms while I am trying to brush those pearly whites.

5)  Bath time is splash time. Like a tiny Shamu show in our tiny Sea World, I am ALWAYS in the splash zone.

6)She's actually toddling now! She's still doing a walk/crawl combo, with most of it leaning towards crawling, but she is growing more confident every day and taking steps on her own. She claps her hands whenever she reaches her new destination, which has prompted her to love her new favorite song - "Applause" by Lady Gaga.

7) She's got mad dancing skills. She likes to booty drop while holding on to the furniture, and will bust a move to almost anything. Her favorites are (see above) "Applause," "Love is an Open door" from Frozen, and the ABC song.

8) On a non changing note - she still has no sense of Stranger Danger. We were at a trampoline arena (yeah, you read that right. It was AWESOME) and she just wandered up to a kindly old lady for a cuddle. Luckily the woman was thrilled, and I said "If you're ok with it, I'm ok with it."

9) She has no sense of any danger. 99% of our shopping trips now include me turning around to find her standing in the cart. I even try strapping her in, but she finds a way around it, the sneaky bugger. She also got her first big head bump the other day from our wood floors. She looked like she has been in Toddler Fight Club, but she took it like a champ. She also is a huge fan of trying to dive head first off of the furniture. Heaven help us. At least she's not a climber. Yet.

10) She's as moody as a teenager. She can (and does) go from laughing to crying in a smooth transition several times a day. To a point where sometimes I don't realize the mood has changed. The website "Reasons my son is crying." has a whole new meaning to me now.

She's still the most fun person to be around, and I'm still loving every minute of my time with her. She keeps me on my toes now, that's for certain. I can't wait to see the crazy that comes out of her toddler mouth when she's really talking more. I bet she'll have some real gems.

Thanks for reading, as always. We're off to the playroom to see what trouble we can get into now.

Love,
Dominique


Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Our New Adventure in "Self Parenting"

Good morning everyone! Happy Monday!

I hope everyone had a great weekend. I apologize for my lack of blog last week, but we have been really working through some stuff here at the K house.

As my frustration with my non-toddling toddler grows, I've decided to try a radical new approach. We are now "self-parenting." What is that, you ask? Self-parenting is exactly as it sounds. I am no longer taking responsibility for V.

Here's what a typical day in our house looks like now:

V wakes up...whenever. She generally cries in her crib for about 45 minutes while I continue to snooze, and then tries hard enough to tumble out with the use of her lovey's. Around 10am, I awaken and usually find her with an old bottle of milk watching the reflections on the blank tv. I figure she'll work the remote eventually.

From there, I might go to yoga, or read or a book or watch a  16 and Pregnant marathon. Occasionally I'll check on her (I mean, I do still love her. It's just tough love now.) and she seems alright. A few times I've found her chewing on the fridge magnets, but I moved them higher so that's not a problem anymore.

Around lunch time, I usually head out to meet Chris for Thai or Mexican, and leave V at home with the pug. I might put some food in pug's bowl, and then I bought a "baby bowl" to put right next to hers, which I fill with puffs. You really should see them together eating. It's the cutest thing.

Our afternoons are spent at the park, where V usually crawls around, putting various pieces of mulch in her mouth. Who am I to judge? If she's hungry she should eat. I'm letting her ride shotgun these days because I got incredibly sick of dealing with our car seat straps. I'll probably just take it out this week so we can have the extra space.

By evening time, she's usually filthy, tired and hungry so I run her a bath (if it's not too much trouble for me) and let her splash around until she's ready for bed. I open her drawers for her to pick out and put on her own pjs, turn off the light and say goodnight!

Usually Chris and I are at the bar within 30 minutes. I tell you, this new method is great. I think she'll be really on track within a few months.

Thanks for always as listening, and one last thing...

HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY! Seriously, what kind of parent do you think I am?!

Love,
Dominique