Posts Tagged Motherhood

Inhibition…or the Lack Thereof

August 23, 2008 at 4:30 am · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged , , , , ,

One of my favorite things about being a mother is watching my kids experience the world without inhibition. Of course, there is a point where one might ask where the line is drawn between the innocent lack of inhibition and just plain manners. One thing I do appreciate the most from my kids is that they are young enough to see truth in the world and feel confident enough to speak what the want. Regardless of who is around.

When I caught my son fishing for something up in his nose, examine it, and then decide to taste it, I had to figure out a catchy way to nip that habit in the bud. Now, I’m sure, as a kid, we all were intrigued by the crunchy, salty taste that comes out of our noses, but there are a few people in this world that still, as adults, search for the perfect bite. At that moment, when I saw him go for the mouth I shouted “Shyel, dude, just pick and flick it!”. I figured the rhyme was catchy enough for him to rethink his booger eating attempts in the near future.

A few weeks later, during circle time at his preschool, his teacher was reading a book called “That’s Disgusting” by Francesco Pittau and Bernadette Gervais. As soon as she got to the part about how eating boogers was disgusting, my son raised his hand passionately in the air and said to the whole class that, “My mommy said you shouldn’t eat your boogers, just pick it and flick it!”. Although I am a huge supporter of the 1st amendment, I made a note to myself to figure out another rhyme that would remind my son of “time and place”.

The lack of inhibition is a glorious thing and as I look at my kids, I envy the newness and the innocence behind it. A few days ago, at the beach, my son and his friend managed to get everything wet. As we were changing them, they took off running in the sand, free as birds, butt naked. I watched them both, screaming with delight, sand in every crevice, pure, unadulterated joy shining off their beautiful 3 year old faces. I noticed that other people on the beach were watching our boys. I wasn’t sure if they were thinking “ok, that’s cute enough, now, get their clothes back on” or, thinking what I was thinking…I wish I could be that free. The total, innocent, beautiful, lack of any type of inhibition. I thought to myself, enjoy it now kid, because with each passing moment, the world finds ways to inhibit us. Be free little man.

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My Little Screamer

August 18, 2008 at 3:33 pm · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged , , , , , , ,

My daughter shot into this world in less than three hours. After that brief second of silence, she let out the most delicious, life-filling scream I had ever heard. At that moment, I felt so relieved because in my arms was an 8 lb. 5 oz. ball of soul. And, she kept on screaming.

Don’t get me wrong, she was never colicky, or a difficult infant, but her major form of communication, even when she was 1 day old, was through her passionate screams. Now, exactly 16 months later, the screams are still there, but mixed in with a fiery little personality. She screams when she’s pissed off, hungry, scared, fired up, happy, excited, and even when she’s just loving life. She screams with delight when she hears Alicia Keys, and screams with anger as soon as I turn it off.

Her screams are so dramatic. My husband says she gets it from me. Probably. Sometimes when she gets really pissed off, she takes a deep breath, and no sound comes out…and her face freezes, and we wait. We hold her at an arms length from each eardrum, turn our heads, and just wait for the storm to hit.

When I’m on a plane, or in public, I forewarn all about her innate talent of screaming. A few months ago when I flew with her from Oakland to D.C., I told everybody around me that my daughter was a screamer. They took one look at her smiling face and decided it couldn’t be that bad. I even took measures prior to the flight to try and prevent this screaming. I ran her, fed her, kept her up from her morning nap, in hopes of her just passing our on the plane…which she had done in the past. I brought toys, books and all her favorite snacks. And sure enough, as soon as the flight took off, she passed out. I was so proud of myself, I settled back, waited to order a glass of wine, pulled out my book “Killing Pablo” and figured I had about 3 hours of chill time.

I was so wrong. Stuck in the middle between her car seat and a rather large woman’s breast, I could barely move. My daughter, whose world had expanded exponentially due the newly acquired trait of walking, wanted to move. I felt bad trying to get her out every 30 minutes, because the lady next to me was having a hard time moving, and I didn’t want to burden her as well. So, to make a long story short, she pretty much screamed the entire way. And, I admit it, I was praying a bottle of Benedryl would magically drop into my lap so my kid could pass out…because the looks I got from people were straight from hell.

I was SO “that mom”. The one that is dealing with her screaming child, as you are looking at yours thinking “Thank god that’s not me!” as you hug your calm, sleeping child overwhelmed with gracious love. Well, here’s the thing, I was always the mom who was grateful her kids were pretty chill on the plane. The mom who would drink up compliments from other passengers who commented on how well her kids behaved. Let’s just say, if there were anybody on that flight who was thinking about having kids…my daughter just made them rethink the whole idea.

Now, I’m about to travel 23.6 hours across the globe, with both of my kids, alone, and I feel like after that flight, it really couldn’t get much worse…and if I have to, I’ll deal with being “that mom” for the plane ride, because, after my kids get a chance to experience two months in India, I’ll be that other mom…the one who gave them a chance to see the world. When I look at it like that, her screams don’t seem all that bad…because the other screams she will grace us with, as soon as she touches foot in India, will be unforgettable.

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The Illusion of Slim

August 6, 2008 at 9:35 pm · Filed under Post-partum, Uncategorized ·Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Back in the pre-motherhood days, underwear shopping was essentially a fun pit stop at the local V.S. Back then, everything was either so cute or so hot and of course, so little. Now, those days are long gone, and finding the right fit for a “mom body”, to me is the most important thing. And, when you find that fit, it really does make a HUGE difference. It’s amazing what the right size bra can do for all those pre-pregnancy clothes that don’t look quite right.

After my first baby, I was one of the lucky ones that lost the weight pretty quickly. Don’t get me wrong, I still find that my tummy never got back to the good old days, but overall, I was happy with myself. Baby number two wasn’t so sweet. My daughter kicked the crap out of me while I was pregnant. My ribs…well, I’m still waiting for them to come back to home base…and my tummy, let’s just say, my kids love it. Although the weight came off, everything was re-distributed and it took some time to just get used to it.

A few months ago when I was visiting my in-laws in Chicago, I was telling my mother-in-law, a breast cancer survivor, how hard it was to find the perfect bra. After nursing two kids, and enduring two pregnancies, I couldn’t figure out how some of those mamas in the magazines made themselves looks so sexy, and gravity defying. I had finally figured out ways to dress myself in clothing that looked flattering to my body (i.e. blouse out, empire waist), but I just couldn’t figure out how to find the perfect underwear.

My mother-in-law introduced me the the real world of bra shopping. She took me to Intimacy , a boutique on Michigan Ave. The fittings are by appointment only, so call ahead, because every minute is well worth it. First of all, my fitter, Anita, was a mother, not an 18 year old size 32 A, push-up wearing girl with a measuring tape around her neck. Here’s the best part, there are no measuring tapes involved. At Intimacy, they do what is called a holistic bra fitting. Your fitter, in my case, Anita, took one look at me from front and back, and said “I’ll be right back”.

Ten minutes later she was back, and in her arms were nearly 25 different bras. T-shirt bras, Plunging bras, Balcony bras, to name a few. Each type was meant for a different style of clothing and each one was beautiful. I knew that lingerie could be beautiful, but now, these pieces also embraced my post-baby body. She said that the perfect bra wardrobe consists of 7 bras, and one should never wear a bra twice in a row, and never, ever stick it in the dryer. The styles they carry are all top of the line, like Chantelle, Prima Donna, Aubade, and Marie Jo, to name a few. Each piece does cost a small fortune, however, if you find a perfect fit, consider it a great investment.

Anita also talked to me about the most common mistakes that women make when wearing a bra (http://www.myintimacy.com/bramistake.html) and when you find the perfect fit, not only do your clothes look better, but it’s better for you. The slouching reduces, the circulation is better, and most of all, mentally when you look good, you feel good.

As of now, there are six boutiques around the country (New York, Chicago, Atlanta, Houston, Boston and Miami), and talks of one opening up in L.A. So, for many of you it’s obviously hard to get there, however, I’m sure you can find somebody in your area that does these holistic fittings. I know that in my city, Oakland, there are a few bra fitting specialists that are really amazing. After the birth of my daughter, I went to Cotton and Company on College Ave. Claudette, the owner, who has been doing this for years, was so helpful when I was looking for nursing bras

Oh, one last fun fact, the owner of Intimacy, Susan Nethero, fit Oprah.

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