Popcorn Reading List

The other day I was lounging on our couch in the basement, watching Doug and Jeff play. Directly across from me are two large bookcases. As they played, I looked at some of my favorite books on the shelves. So many books, some I haven't re-read in quite a while.  As I looked over the books, I was realizing the books had a few things in common. Being physical books, they were all purchased prior to Doug's birth. And while most of these books wouldn't be considered high literature, they were all decent reads, meaty, thick books with complex characters and plots. I'm sure many of them have been on the NY Times best seller lists, etc.

Then I began to think about the kinds of books on my Kindle. Sure, there are a few books like that, but not as many as I'd like and certainly not too many after Doug was born. I still read regularly. I will admit my reading took a hit during the first trimester when I was exhausted (making up for it in the bathroom though, I think).

As I began to ponder the issue and review what I've been reading in the past year, I realized that my reading selections tend to be books that are easily consumable. Books that are satisfying but have no intellectual value, like popcorn for your brain, delicious, but not nutritional. Last winter/spring I began reading romance books, for something to read. The characters aren't deep, the plot is always predictable and my brain doesn't have to do too much work. Easy for a tired brain. I probably didn't read much more than half a dozen of these books before I got tired of them and moved on.

I don't remember exactly how I stumbled into the next books I began reading, but it was sometime late last spring. To date, I've read probably close to a dozen Star Trek the Next Generation books. And by read, I mean devour. For a while I was confused by this new trend of mine. I'm not really a sci-fi reader. But then I realized it wasn't too difficult for my poor brain. It was drawing on an established list of characters with predictable reactions. The plots were much more involved than the romance novels and funnier, and more enjoyable.  For a while I was unhappy with this new literary fetish of mine, but then I realized it doesn't matter, I'm reading and it's enjoyable.

I did join a book club recently and I am sprinkling more 'literary' books into my reading. But right now, there's a crisis the Enterprise is facing, and I don't know if the crew will be able to save the day....

There Are No Merit Badges For Motherhood

       There are no merit badges for mothering. Really, there aren't. Unless there's some super secret underground Mommy Cult that I don't know about, and if there is, thank God I don't know about it.

       The other day I read the most ridiculous article about a drug free birth (I refuse to call it 'natural childbirth'). I don't think the idea of a drug free birth is ridiculous, indeed to each her own. It was the tone of the article that rankled. Three out of the four reasons the author gave that drug free birth was superior were plausible. Not ironclad reasons or only found in natural childbirth, but possible. Her fourth reason that drug free childbirth was 'awesome' was that it afforded the mom 'bragging rights'. Really? If you're bragging about something, you clearly feel superior to someone. If you feel superior about a drug free birth than you are suggesting that any other kind of birth is inferior. All kinds of things happen in a delivery room and the best laid plans can go to hell in a matter of minutes, trust me, Doug was an emergency c-section. The point is that my doctor and I made the best plan we could based on the situation at hand to get Doug out ALIVE. That is the goal of any birth.  A healthy mother and child. Period. Once Doug was born, I only felt insane relief and gratitude that he was alive. That's it. No regrets. I did not get a 'I Survived An Emergency C-Section' badge.

     Mothers beat up on each other for a variety of other reasons too. You have your breastfeeders who look down on formula feeders (and vice versa). Your stay-at-home moms who look down on those who work. Your cloth diaperers who radiate smugness to those who use disposables. The list can go on and on, wherever there are different parenting paths to take, there will always be tension.

    I'm going to let you in on a little secret here: Moms are making the best choices for themselves and their children that they can. Some mom's can't breastfeed. Some moms need medication. Some moms just plain don't want to. Some moms can't afford to stay at home. Some moms (gasp) love their careers. And I think we can all agree that people who cloth diaper are insane. Just kidding.

   No college is going to ask your kid how they were born. If they were bottle or breast fed. If they had a stay-at-home parent. Why? It doesn't matter by the time they're that age. You've already done a fabulous job of raising the child. So can we please stop tearing each other down for the choices we make?

Against the Grain

We've made some difficult decisions lately. I won't get into that here, but I'll only say that we did what we believed was right for our family. As I was considering our options this week, I began to remember some of the times I've had to make difficult decisions and the consequences of doing what I believe to be right. The following is one of my all time favorite stories.

Picture it:  April Fools day at a Catholic all girls school, a group of second semester freshmen going to their after lunch English class taught by a woman who was rumored to throw freshmen out the window. I'm pretty sure she never had a parking spot. She chose to park her broom in the closet in her room. Anyway, the girls got there early, as freshmen are wont to do. Some of them thought it would be absolutely hilarious to hide from the teacher in the near by stairwell. I am a fair judge of character, in my opinion, and I did not believe this teacher would be amused in the slightest. Not. At. All. Anyway, the girls decided to go and hide and I dithered a moment before deciding to go sit down in the classroom. I knew the teacher wouldn't be amused and I decided I just didn't want any part of it. A few other girls were unsure about the prank, but ultimately decided to go along with the group. A few minutes later the teacher entered the room, she looked around and asked me if we had class or not. I said or squeaked "yes". She asked me if I knew where my classmates went and I said no (I actually didn't know, the location of the staircase was picked before I got to the group). So she stormed off looking for the class. She found them very quickly and as I predicted, she was pretty pissed.

That incident became rather notorious. I imagine she is still telling freshmen about this group of girls that hid from her.

I've never been one to "just go along with the group".  It goes against the grain of my character.

Then & Now

      I always seem to have these profound personal revelations while we're at the Day Out with Thomas. Last year's revelation was about us being a family of only three. I decided that it would be ok if we never had another child. I've mostly made peace with that possibility. This year as we were waiting for our picture with Sir Topham Hatt, I was thinking about last year's picture. It's on my desk, so I see it regularly. I was wondering how much Jeff and I had changed since last year.

This is 2013's pic:

This is 2014, roughly a year later:

Jeff apparently really likes that shirt. I admit, the difference looks more dramatic with Jeff. He's lost 40 lbs since the first picture. I've lost nearly 30. Those jeans I'm wearing in the second picture are three sizes smaller, and the shirt is two sizes smaller. Jeff has yet to commit to buying new clothes. He did relent and let me buy him some new belts last summer. Sir Topham Hatt looks the same. 

I didn't really realize how much we've lost until I looked at these photos. The other night we went through our clothes. Many of my dresses and skirts had to be tossed into the donate piles because they were so big, all except my black dresses*. It was very freeing to toss (read: donate) so much stuff. Our closets are nice and roomy now. 

I have to admit this has been so much easier since we've done it together. We support and encourage each other. We help each other to make better food choices. And to split not so great food choices. We've also watched a lot of Star Trek together while riding our exercise bike. It's a chore sometimes, but most of the time it's fun. 

I'm looking forward to next year's picture with Sir Topham Hatt. 

*I have a thing about black dresses. I've saved them in case I ever do actually get pregnant and need to go to a funeral. Sounds ridiculous, right? Well, I went to two funerals and a wedding while I was pregnant with Doug. It could happen. And I'm not shelling out cash for a maternity dress. Highway robbery! End of aside

The Village

So Doug's been going to preschool at a local county's Parks and Recs program. He started in September for two days a week and has loved it. Half way through the spring he was going to age out of his class. Enrollment is done on a six week basis, it's a huge pain in the butt. So if we wanted him to continue, we'd have to put him in the next class up. We debated for a while about whether or not we wanted him to continue, but last week I realized that he really enjoys it and gets a lot out of it, so we enrolled him for six weeks in the next class.

One of the reasons Doug loved his class is because he adores his teacher, Ms. Beth. She's a maternal sort of woman and gets Doug pretty well. He can be some what quirky about things like finger paint. Any time we looked at preschool options for next year, Doug would ask, "Is this Ms. Beth's class?". So I was more than comfortable in letting him finish the year out with her.

We got to his first class of the new session this morning only to find out that our beloved Ms. Beth is not the teacher. I was instantly panicked, "How will Doug deal with this? Is he going to hate it?". I had promised Ms. Beth and she was not here. Luckily, the teacher's assistant was the same for both classes and Doug was comfortable with her. He seemed to be fairly calm, so I left.

I was so disappointed by this switch that I cried a bit in the car (ok, partly monthly hormones, but still). Aside from Doug's disappointment, I couldn't figure out why this was upsetting me so much. As I drove to get a much needed cup of coffee, it dawned on me. Ms. Beth has been the only stranger so far that I've entrusted Doug to. And I think that set up a bond between the three of us. Sure, Doug goes to his own Sunday school class and plays in the church nursery, but that's different. I know those women and so does Doug. Plus, I'm usually right nextdoor or down the hall. No big deal. But Ms. Beth was the first person I'd left my baby with for a few hours at a time. It was hard the first time and I think she helped us both through that transition.

Of course Doug was pretty nonchalant about the whole thing when I picked him up. I peeked in on him and saw him running a giraffe across the floor, clearly not a tortured soul. He was excited that he now gets to play on the 'big kid's playground'.

In retrospect, it was kind of a good lesson for him. He is blessed to have so many, wonderful and amazing people in his village. And sometimes those people move on. But they still helped a bit to make you who you are.

NFL Sundays

Once upon a time, I used to pity people who had to watch football games on Sundays. It takes at least a three hour chunk out of your weekend, you need to plan around it. And Monday night games? Be prepared to be exhausted Tuesday morning. And for what? To watch a bunch of overpaid men-children throw a ball and to see countless beer and car commercials? Seems ridiculous! 

That started changing for us last season. We had invited my Grandma over for dinner. Unbeknownst to me, it was the last game of the Skin's regular season. It may have been make or break for them to get into the play-offs (probably). Anyway, I realized that I was going to have to plan dinner around the game, that is unless I wanted to be written out of her will. So we did just that, I managed to time dinner for half time, and we recorded the game on our dvr, just in case. Doug loved it. He snuggled up with my Grandma on our couch and was riveted by the game. The next weekend, he was asking if we could watch some more football, so we watched the Redskins playoff game (Doug was seriously concerned about RGIII, watching him getting hurt and all). And then the next weekend he wanted to watch more football. The Redskins having been eliminated we decided to watch the Baltimore Ravens, and we watched them all the way to the superbowl. 

In the off season, we decided that we would primarily root for the Baltimore Ravens. Our county is after all a suburb of Baltimore rather than Washington. It also seemed fair. Jeff's family roots for the Kansas City Chiefs and mine for the Redskins. This seemed like a fair compromise, not favoring one family over the other. 

We had a nice time watching football as a family this season. We had some very relaxing Sundays. We'd get up and go to Sunday school and church and then come home and have lunch and watch the Ravens. No running around to the store or other errands. Just the three of us cheering on the Ravens and sometimes the Chiefs together. 

I learned a lot about football this year and grew to really like it. People who have known me most of my life now look at me like I have three heads when I start to talk about football. But it is an interesting game, not unlike chess in many ways. I am apparently also very loud when I watch football. On more than one occasion Doug has told me to stop yelling. I still have no idea what the point of an onside kick is though. 

I'm looking forward to watching the Super Bowl, just the three of us on the couch , with some yummy snacks. 

Maybe next year it'll be the Ravens or Chief's year.

One of the few times a Chiefs game was broadcast in our area. We got to watch the Chiefs and the Ravens back to back this day.

Advent Project

I had the dubious privilege of witnessing the most bizarre tantrum a few weeks ago. When we were at a pet store with my in-laws, my father-in-law gave Doug some change he had gotten back after he made his purchase. Doug took the change and headed back to the cash register area, looked around and then wailed, "There's no box!!!". We were all quite confused. I asked him what he meant. He explained, "There's no box, for the kids!". And then it dawned on me, "Like at McDonald's? When I give you my change for the kids in the hospital?". "YES!". I  told him that the pet store didn't have a box for that, but if he liked, we could drop it off the next time we were at McDonald's. He seemed to like that idea, but whined about it for a bit on the car ride home. I was finally at wits end with this and told him when we got home, I'd stick the change in an envelope and mail it to Ronald McDonald. He seemed to be satisfied with that.

I started thinking about it though and it seemed like this was an opportunity for one of those 'teachable moments'. When we got home I asked him instead if he's like to collect change until Christmas and then drop off a lot of change at once for Ronald McDonald House. He agree and we decorated an old bottle (with glitter glue, naturally). We've collected quite a bit of change and Doug is always very excited when Jeff and I give him some more. At some point tomorrow, we'll all go together and drop it off. I'm amazed at how excited Doug is about it and how well he's stuck with it. I think this is a nice Christmas tradition for us to adopt. I think we'll definitely pick a charity and do the same thing next year.