Raising a little boy is so…strange. Sam’s moods are so fleeting and extreme. One moment he is grunting and yelling at his truck that will not stay up on the couch when he puts it there, screaming and turning red in the face in aggressive frustration. The next he is head butting me with his mouth wide open for a kiss, he lays his head on my leg and smiles as I rub his ears while he whispers sweet nothings, aka babble, to my lap. I think I’m in for it. He’s got me right where he wants me. Is it wrong to believe I have the sweetest baby imaginable? The best? Because I do…believe that, I mean.

Here are some highlights from the zoo today, the highlight being the ice cream. This is not unlike the face he makes for that kiss.


My two boys.

And for the five of you that care, we’ll be headed to the in-laws for the 4th so there won’t be an 80’s Sunday this week. We’ll pick up where we left off next week.

Happy weekend and Happy 4th!

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I just have to brag because I am so very proud of Hubby. As you may know, he graduated from law school back in May. He did an excellent job in all of his classes from the very beginning. Just yesterday we found out that he was awarded Cum Laude for his awesome GPA, 3.88.

In addition, he was awarded the honor of Order Of The Coif. I know, it sounds so very Harry Potter. This is an award that is decided by the Professors at his school, giving it to students for outstanding achievement.

Hubby worked so hard during his 3 years of law school, he took excellent care of a crazy pregnant woman for nine months of it, and then took on the new responsibility of being an outstanding father - all while succeeding and excelling at a top 15 law school. I am so proud of him for being able to accomplish so much, so I just had to brag because I can’t contain myself.

And speaking of Harry Potter, look at what they made him wear for his graduation!

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Welcome to my new look! This is what I get when I go to a book group that I’ve looked forward to all month and prepped for all day (mentally and psychologically), one of the only social events I have been able to attend since moving here, only to sit there by myself for 20 minutes until finally realizing no one else is coming. After coming home crying and declaring that absolutely nothing seems to work out in this city (recall all posts regarding the BIG MOVE and the one about how no mommies live here) Hubby offered to work on my site’s look with me, something I have been making noises about for a month or so. He’s so good to me. Of course, it also gave him a good excuse to avoid studying for the BAR exam…

I hope this new format is both easier to read and more reflective of my site’s content. The Carol Brady thing was a little too kitschy, even for me. So please let me know what you honestly think, because I’m sure we’ll have more nights when I have tried to be social and am thwarted, and Hubby will be looking for more ways to avoid his studies. Personally, I love it and intend to have beautiful dreams about my new blog tonight.

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Oh, it’s so very unfortunate, but alas I am sick. You may have noticed in the description of the 80’s Sunday video that I mention Sam has a bit of a fever. Well now he is ok, but I am under the weather. So I won’t really be writing today, but sipping tea instead. But I wanted to go ahead and mention it now so that tomorrow when some of you are asking me if I went to visit my good friends with the apple calves and the blank stares again, I’d have my excuse prepared. I am sick, see? So no, I can’t possibly go back to that class and haul buns through the park with my humungo stroller and humungo nummies. Just can’t. Must finish book instead. Must rest. Must regain strength and recover.

Ok, this is all a little too sarcastic sounding. I truly am legitimately ill – sore throat, stuffy nose, dizzy feeling, all that stuff. But I’ll be honest: I’m just fine with not having to make a decision about going back to that class tomorrow. I hadn’t decided yet what I was going to do. I think I was leaning toward going, which would mean that now I should be feeling some sort of disappointment. Can’t say that I do.

We’ll see if something happens to come up next week as well…

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So, I went to a fitness class for moms yesterday. It is a class where you bring your child(ren) and a stroller and you work out with your baby. The cardio portion of the class is predominantly pushing the stroller, and then every so often the group stops to do some strengthening exercises, ending the one hour session with work on mats on the grass, using our babies as resistance. In Chicago I had always wished there was a way to work out with Sam, and I never felt I could really get any exercise in if I was taking care of him. I tried to go to one mom and baby yoga class and I got to do all of two poses. So this class sounded ideal when I first discovered it.

As with any new class/exercise/meeting/social situation, there is always that doubt when it comes time to actually participate in the activity, at least, this is true with me, particularly with exercise…and meeting new people…and being social…ok, with everything new. It always sounds good until I actually have to motivate to do it. Class was going to be at 5:00 and I found from the time I woke up that I was trying to devise a good reason to not go. This is a difficult task seeing as I would first have to convince myself it was ok to stay home, and then convince Hubby, who I knew would give me an earful of guilt since I have been yammering about how I need things to do with Sam, need to make friends, need to find ways to exercise, etc. So I knew it would have to be something pretty good to get me out of this successfully. I checked the weather and saw that they were predicting an isolated thunderstorm sometime in the afternoon. I thought, that’s it, I’m totally set, but as the day wore on it just got sunnier and clearer. In the morning I started planting the idea into Hubby’s head that it might just be too hot to exercise outside. It’s hot here, you know. And muggy, so muggy. And it’s hard for someone who’s not used to exercising in the heat to all of a sudden begin. It could be dangerous. Oh, and what about Sam? What about my son the big sweaty head who keeps getting heat rash. Surely I can’t take him out for a whole hour if it is hot and humid. But of course, the temp did not go beyond 84 degrees. It was a beautiful, cloudless, sunny day with a nice cooling breeze. But what if this is a running class? I can’t run. I hate running (Yes, I HATE running. It makes me feel like my face is going to bounce off and my eyes are going to fall out. It makes me want to puke. It is so jarring and unpleasant. I can’t even look at a jogger without getting uncomfortable.) And there’s no way I can run with a stroller, and with these enormous nummies! No way. “Well, does it say it’s a running class?” “No, it doesn’t.” “In the pictures are the women running?” “No, they aren’t. But they are ridiculously thin and buff. They are clearly work out women, which I am not. I’ll be the fattest one there.” “Honey, they just post pictures like that to make the program look good, the women there will be regular women who have also given birth. And you’re NOT FAT.” I had nothing.

And so, when the time came, instead of trying my usual excuses, I just went and got dressed in my “workout attire.” Please note, I made a half hearted attempt at, “I have nothing to wear,” to which Hubby promptly reminded me of the trip I took to Target not so long ago for the sole purpose of purchasing workout clothes for an aerobics class. “But that was indoor and this is outdoor.” “But you bought shorts.” Fine. I was going. I had no excuse and truthfully I knew I’d never forgive myself if I chickened out. I drove off with Sam and my map to the place where this group meets, the new Dixie Chicks improving my confidence slightly. I find the place easily and am on time despite my subconscious attempts at delaying us. Park, gear up the stroller, add baby, and make sure I have everything:
Water – check
Yoga mat – check
Total mom haircut - check
Humungous and heavy non-jogging stroller - check
Equally humungous and heavy breastfeeding nummies – check
Inner thigh flab that will rub together whenever engaging in a quick pace – check
Previously mentioned Target shorts that will ride up to crotch with the help of aforementioned thighs - check

And with that we walk down to the meeting point at the end of the trail. I knew it was them before I even got to the group. They weren’t exactly the ones from the pictures on the website, but they might as well have been. They were the buff women, the work out women, the serious women. How do I know?
Uber hip jogging strollers – check
Ponytails – check
Spandex biker shorts - check
Apple shaped protruding calves – check
Breasts – … nada

And I know I’m being harsh on women who exercise here, but it’s only because I’m jealous. I think it’s great. But c’mon, noone wants to be the fat girl, right? And I’m looking at a woman who gave birth 3 months ago who is thinner than I have ever been in my entire life. Furthermore, as soon as I saw how fit these people were I was back to wondering what exactly we’d be doing in this class. I’m thinking at this point it’s not just a walk in the park.

The instructor curtly welcomes me, asks if I can register after class so that we can go ahead and get going…um, yes. We tell each other our names, and she begins with,
“Ok, we’re going to warm up by walking at a fast pace in a single file line. The person in back will then run up to the front of the line and so on.” Oh crap…

I found out later from Hubby that this exercise is called an Indian Sprint. Please ignore the offensive part and focus on SPRINT. And I think to myself: Would these women laugh at me if I just turned around and walked away right now? Yes, yes they would. They’d probably talk about it for the duration of the class.

The beginning of the trail is uphill. And let me say that the fast pace was FAST. I am short. I have short legs. People who have short legs have to take more steps to cover the same distance as people with long legs, see? I was practically running just to stay in the line, so when it kept being my turn to run up to the front I was totally haulin’ it. And my stroller is completely bouncing so while the other women are literally pushing theirs with one hand using like 2 fingers I’m trying to keep Sam out of the ditch. So I’m running up this hill thinking, “I have to get back to the car. I have to get out of here. Would anyone notice if I just didn’t run up to the front of the line? But if they turn around and see me, I know they can outrun me. They’ll come and catch me. Then I’ll have to run faster than I am now. They’ll trap me with their smooth riding three wheeled strollers. But if this is just the warm up, what is the real class like? I’m going to die out here and she didn’t let me register so she doesn’t even have my emergency contact’s information. Hubby will have to come searching for me in the ditch…” and then she says we will be continuing with this for 3 more minutes. I press on and we pull over to do push ups on a fence. When we begin again it is clear we will just do the fast paced walk. And this is how it continues. We walk fast, we pull over to do exercises. We head further and further into the park. I try desperately to think up an excuse to get out of there. Unfortunately Sam is not cooperating. Normally if there is something I really want to do I can depend on him to be fussy and thwart my attempts at having a life. Not today. No, he loves this. Mommy is on her 3rd set of 20 squat side kick things and he’s yuckin it up with the 8 month old next to him.

I try at one point to insert myself into the conversation 2 women are having. One is telling the other that she has been looking for activities like this to do with her kids. I ask, “Oh, did you just move here?” Pause…blank stare… “No.”… “Oh.” Silence. After about 15 seconds the other woman looks at me and asks if I just moved here, asks where from, etc. It ends. At this point I decide I need to just do my own thing. I need to enjoy the scenery, enjoy Sam, and just forget about what these women think of my shorts wedged up in my crotch.

The class seems to improve from here on out (especially when we turned around and started heading back). I fall a bit behind a few times, especially when I get off to a slightly late start due to giving Sam some of my water, but somehow I make it through. I end up talking again to that second woman and even a bit to the blank starer. We get to the last part where we set up our mats on the grass and take the kids out to play. Sam loved being used as my weight. He laughed as I lifted him up and down and bit and slapped my butt as I held my plank pose. And the women were a little warmer for this part too. I made 2 successful jokes and by the end found myself telling the instructor I’d be back next week. How did that happen?

As I walked to the car with the blank starer, I asked her about her super cool stroller. It was a single that could convert into a double with a place underneath for a second child. I thought that might actually be worth investing in if it could be used with a potential next child. So she told me the company and to look online. I did look it up later: $469.99.
Horror stricken face – check.

Told you they were serious.

Labels: Absolute Favorite Posts, Mommyhood, Tales, Toddler

Yesterday, for Father’s Day, we went to the Please Touch Museum. I had read that they had a farm exhibit specifically for children under three. They also have a storytime in the afternoons once a week, so I was considering getting a membership and going often if Sam enjoyed our trip. The Please Touch Museum is fairly small, very seventies in style. I think this is because they have plans to open at a new location in 2008, so there is very little going on there as far as renovating or making any major improvements. Everything is just a little old and a little grey and a little smelly. Sam was fascinated.

This place is so very well designed. I would have loved it as a kid and I could see that the kids around me loved it too. They have a water table exhibit where the kids put on smocks and play with boats and water machines. They have a house where the kids use “tools” to hammer boards onto the walls, a Sendak “Where the Wild Things Are” exhibit where a kid can pick up a Max costume at the beginning, and an Alice In Wonderland exhibit complete with the Mad Hatter’s tea party as well as the flamingo croquet. Strange gadgets, toys, and puzzles are everywhere. There are little doll houses the kids can play inside with vacuums and a construction center with bricks, construction plans and wheel barrows. And the Farm exhibit for very young kids was adorable. Sam had a blast placing all of the play radishes and corn into the wheel barrow and then emptying it, riding the tractor, and staring at the strange rubber pig. He also enjoyed the puzzle table in the storytime room, which made me realize that was an entire genre of toys that we have completely missed – he now has 4 puzzles. He crawled through the whole museum at a feverish pace, checking out everything, waving to everybody, and finding anything with wheels, stealing said wheeled object from whatever child had it, and proceeding to push it through the museum just like at home. He loved it. I got us the membership. Easily a place to spend an afternoon to get the kid all tuckered out.

As I sat there watching Sam play with his big knobby circle puzzle and watching kids working so hard at their tasks, I commented to Hubby that the whole thing had a very Montessori type of feel. We’ve been considering a Montessori school for Sam when he is ready for it, but I figure we have a lot of time to consider what we want. 3 years old, right? So during his nap I decided to look into schools here in Philly just to start to see what was available…and then I freaked out. Most Montessori schools begin their toddler programs at 18 months old and take in applications one year before the kid would be starting school. That means that if Sam was going to be 18 months old by September (which he will not be) I would have had to apply to schools for him last September when he was SIX MONTHS OLD. Have I missed something here? Was I supposed to be thinking about schools already? How can I possibly make a decision about what type of education would be good for my child when he is 6 months old? All of a sudden I feel like I am behind on this only because Hubby and I don’t know what we want for him yet. So it is horrifying to find out that should we decide on one thing or another, it may turn out we made that decision too late.

To make matters worse, I looked at an application for one of these schools and it totally left me with a rancid taste in my mouth. Among the typical “why do you think your child would excel here” types, they ask when he started talking. Why does that matter? Are you telling me you are going to consider this when looking at his application for admission? Is he in a race? It also mentions that the child will be brought in for an evaluation in which he is observed in the classroom to see if he is able to do tasks “appropriate for his age.” So essentially, Sam would be tested, his skills evaluated, his behavior scrutinized and compared in order to determine if he should be accepted. We are talking about a child under the age of two here, and I feel like I did when applying to college.

Let me say that I think this problem has nothing to do with these schools being Montessori, but being private schools, schools that require applications because they are so sought after. Problem is, if Philadelphia is anything like Chicago (is this just an urban problem or is this the case in other areas as well?), there will be an application process for nearly all decent schools, public or private. Aye, there’s the rub. We are having to put our little guys (and our parenting) in competition to ensure that our children can go to a school where they can learn. Parents are afraid that if their child can’t recite the latin names of his favorite bugs then he won’t be accepted into a good PRE-SCHOOL and his life will be ruined. No wonder acceleration is the trend.

I just want Sam to be able to be a child. I’m not into this whole sign him up for classes that will enhance his motor skills via a rigid program/drill him with flash cards/turn play into work movement. I’m just not. He’s a baby. He will learn to do these things by living (that’s why I was considering Montessori). But now it seems that by choosing this path for us I am putting him behind what the rest are doing, and that may hinder him, not because it’s right, but because there’s competition among toddlers and parents are afraid for their children’s education. I’m not sure what the answer is. At the school where I used to work in Chicago they did their admissions based on a lottery system. I don’t think I understood why or appreciated that until now. This babbling has at least taught me something about what I will be looking for in a school when that time comes (whenever that is – I’m totally confused now).

I trust that Sam will figure things out his own way; I don’t need to drill him, force him, or accelerate him. A few weeks ago we were playing with this toy that I made for him. It’s an oatmeal canister with a slit cut in the top just big enough for a poker chip. This is one of the only times I have actually tried to “work” with him on a task. I would hand him the chips and show him how to place them in the slot so they would fall in. I always tried to make him interested in getting the chips through the slot while he was always much more interested playing with the lid and trying to figure out how to get it on and off. On this particular day he was having trouble getting the chips at the right angle to go in the hole, or he wouldn’t let go at the right time. I kept trying to show him and he was getting frustrated. Finally he pulled the lid off of the can, threw in the chip, and slammed the lid back on top. He’ll work it out. And I was so much more proud of that decision than I was a few days later when he actually started putting the chips in the “right” way.

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Congratulations to last week’s 80’s Sunday winner, Crazy MamaD.

I don’t actually know if her name is “Crazy” Mama D. But I’ve seen her site listed on the links of others’ blogs as “Crazy Mama D,” “The Tales of Mama D,” “The Tales of Crazy MamaD.” I just don’t know (actually I know her real name, but that’s a secret). Anyway, she’s crazy, she’s a winner, and she’s MamaD. She correctly guessed that last week’s song was “Bizarre Love Triangle” by New Order, it’s the song everyone who has ever been to a dance club on 80’s night knows, but very few can actually name.

MamaD also has a very cool game on Fridays where she writes 80’s movie quotes and you guess the movie. See, that’s smart. Movies have quotes. It’s not like, say, making people guess songs based on only reading lyrics and not actually hearing any music…oh wait…yeah. Many of you have said that it’s pretty hard to guess these songs so randomly. I don’t actually know how hard it is because noone else does a game that makes so little sense. So this week we are changing things up a bit. Let me know how this works: if you like it better, if you can see the video, if it’s now too easy, etc. But I think this may be the new 80’s Sunday format. It gives me an excuse to get some video of Sam each week, which is pretty cool. Of course, in this one he refuses to dance while the camera is running (he started every time I stopped taping or like when the song was at the chorus) and instead stares off at Hubby in the corner who is trying to encourage him to get jiggy. So now you get to see my son standing there doing nothing. Fascinating.

Below is a video with a popular 80’s song playing in the background. Using your very own knowledge, I want the title of the song and the name of the artist.

Happy Father’s Day!

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