Tag: parenting

No thanks required

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

2013-3-28-MarineCorpsMarathon

The weather is finally beginning to transition from the scalding heat of summer into more comfortable temperatures, and at my house that means that running season has once again begun. The hubby’s more casual runs have taken on a more desperate urgency as he trains to participate once again in the Marine Corp Marathon.

He’s run a few marathons before, but last year was his first time attending this particular event. The boys and I traveled with him to our nation’s capital to offer our support with plans to cheer him on along with thousands of other spectators.

The bombing in Boston had understandably made everyone a wee bit nervous and it was going to be nearly impossible to get anywhere near the course except by foot. Knowing that I was going to be in charge of wrangling both of our boys by myself all the way from the hotel to the finish line I had borrowed a double stroller. It unfortunately had a semi-broken wheel, a fact that I didn’t immediately recognize until we were already in DC. I chose to make do with what we had. My hubby wasn’t going to be the only one getting a workout that weekend.

The day before the big race, we had gone to check in with the officials and pick up the hubby’s race number. Security was in force and there were several lines you had to stand in. We actually stood in one line for close to ten minutes only to realize that it was a line to buy race related merchandise and had nothing what so ever to do with picking up the official bib and tracker.

We had managed to pick up most everything, but there was one more line required on the other side of the street. The boys by this point were starting to go a little stir crazy. I told the hubby to go ahead, that we’d catch up. Without the unwieldy stroller, he would make better time. He did, disappearing into the crowd.

I began making my way out, only to realize that the exit I had gone through took me out on top of a large staircase with no handicap accessible ramp. Going back in the way I came wasn’t an option, security check points wouldn’t allow it. I inched our way towards the first stair, stopping the stroller at the edge. I circled around to the front to ask my elder son to get up and walk down the steps so that I would be free to carry his brother. He decided this was a good time to be uncooperative.

I heard a voice over my shoulder ask if I needed help. I muttered an automatic negative response. I would be okay, I told myself, and returned my attention to my eldest son, who continued to show no signs of behaving. I must not have been very convincing. Suddenly hands appeared from every direction lifting the stroller and my sons up. Within a blink we were down at the bottom. I glanced around. Based on the number of hands, there had to have been at least four people, but they were gone before the words, thank you, had even left my mouth. I never even truly saw their faces.

I thought to myself, what just happened!?!

Then it hit me. I was surrounded by Marines.

Marine Corp Memorial Iwo Jima with Washington ...
Marine Corp Memorial Iwo Jima and finish line of the MCM distance (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have been very fortunate to never once been in a position to see Marines in action first hand. At least not when it mattered. So perhaps I might be excused for being surprised. However I realized then that I should not have expected anything else. These were people trained to overcome resistance, execute their mission with maximum speed and efficiency, and leave no one behind. Even more amazingly they were expected to do all of these things each day without thanks.

I will admit that my ego needs feeding. I crave acknowledgement of good work. I will perform a little victory dance after a job well done. I think to myself I’ve earned my praise, I deserve it, when the majority of my work consists of taping some keys at a computer. To be reminded that there are people who risk far more, requiring far less is extremely humbling.

I may not always agree with the when and how they are deployed, but I am grateful everyday that there are people like that out there. If one of my random helpers from last year’s race stumbles upon this post and remembers the lady with the double stroller on top of the stairs trying to do too much on her own, please accept my most sincere thanks even if you didn’t think it was required. You are inspiring.

Putting priorities under the microscope

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it
How to prioritize in 15 stesp
How to prioritize in 15 easy steps

We had received an email from school warning us that a stomach virus was going around my son’s class and was therefore not surprised (nor excited mind you) when kiddo succumbed a few days later. Poor little thing. Luckily after a mere 24 hours the fever had broken and he was once again nearly his boisterous self.

Then we received another note from the school. I am beginning to develop click dread. This one stated that a parent had confirmed their child had been infected with strep, a particularly nasty bacteria that can knock an adult flat on their hind quarters as well as lead to several other complications if left untreated. Awesome. I felt my throat tickle at the mere threat.

By the time I had gotten that note, tested kiddo, and put him on antibiotics, it was already too late for me. We hadn’t treated kiddo for strep, only for a 24 hour GI bug as was previously advertised. Did you know that strep manifests itself similarly to the flu in 4-6 year olds? They might not ever even complain about a sore throat or display any other outward symptoms. Sneaky buggers. Did you know they can remain contagious 2 – 3 weeks if left untreated? I didn’t. I guess you learn something new every day. Within a week I was rocking a moderate fever and my biggest accomplishment was getting dressed for the day.

Thankfully, having a good idea what my condition was in advance helped me seek out treatment sooner. All I had to do is rest for the next 48 hours while the antibiotics took hold. Amoxicillin, how I love thee.

Unfortunately I wasn’t the only victim. The hubby, too, developed a lovely case, leaving only the toddler in the clear. We had at least had the foresight to keep them separated. I guess the family that develops antibodies together stays together. Therefore he and I found ourselves in a frightening situation. We had two perfectly healthy, energetic little boys, who are too young to take care of themselves, and absolutely no energy to do just that.

I was told that having children will help teach you where your priorities lie. You find out what you are willing to sacrifice (i.e. spontaneous vacations, shopping sprees, watching first release movies at the actual theater, etc.) This is true – to a point. Those are all luxury items. Being sick with kids is actually the better teacher. That’s the situation when you learn what non-luxury items aren’t really that essential after all. I found out that I can survive in an extremely messy house. I don’t care if the kids’ shirts don’t match their pants if they can dress themselves. The toddler’s potty training can wait a few more weeks, he’s obviously not that into it. The kids only want to eat mac n’cheese or spaghetti? Fine. Deal. Here’s a multi-vitamin to chase it with.

Who knew that something like microscopic bacteria could teach me so much about myself?

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Parting with an old friend

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

I remember the day I picked out my stroller. I was so overwhelmed with the number of options out there and had a difficult time staying focused on my need versus want list with all those little kicks in my stomach. I finally selected one of those stroller systems which includes a car carrier that clicks and locks into place. It was easy to push, and could fold down with a single twist of a hand.

This last feature proved to be particularly beneficial to me as my husband went into business for himself slightly before the birth of our first child. My son was planned. The factory closure where my husband worked prior was not. At least it wasn’t planned by us. I would strongly caution others to think long and hard about their decision to start a business at the same time as bringing adding an infant to the family if there are other options on the table, or if you lack a strong local network of friends and family willing to pitch in.

We didn’t know better. He was already chewing on the entrepreneurship option, the factory situation merely sped up the time-table. As a result, I found myself spending several evenings alone with only the dog and the baby for company while the hubby acted as sales, marketing, service, and support for his fledgling business.

As neither of my two companions were exactly strong conversationalists, I decided to take us to the streets. I walked miles upon miles with that stroller, holding it with one hand and the dog’s leash in the other. Neighbors laughed. I looked like I was conducting some southern suburban dog sled race. I embraced the image. I intentionally hammed it up when there were witnesses grateful for the attention of other adults.

Then one day we were walking down our usual route when a cat bolted out from a nearby bush. My dog, a stocky 60 pounds of pure muscle, darted after it, snapping the leash from my hand. Off balanced, I fell, bringing the stroller down with me. My son started screaming as the stroller landed on its side. The sound caused my dog to stop chasing the cat and return to our side full of concern.

Passerbys also came running to help. I stopped trying to compete for the mother of the year award a long time ago, but I still felt like the lowest scum of the earth as I attempted to calm my son. My neighbor pointed to the buckles as I fumbled to release them. “It’s okay. He’s okay. The stroller did what it is supposed to.” He must have repeated the phrase three times before I really heard what he was saying. My son had been strapped into his stroller with its five point buckling system and had suffered no injury. He had only been scared due to the sudden change of altitude.

Have stroller will travel
My eldest helping me to take the baby for a stroll

My husband’s work schedule eventually settled into something more manageable. He was able to join me for walks more and more. The stroller was swapped out for a tricycle. Then our other son was born and the stroller once again became a necessity, but time advances like an avalanche.

Now my sister-in-law is expecting her first child, and is experiencing that same nervous overwhelming feeling I remember so well. My husband and I are content with our two children. We offered to give her the stroller months ago. But the actual act of giving was more difficult than I anticipated. I had so many great memories associated with it. Not just of my boys’ babyhood, but great times with my dog, who has since departed as well. Sending it away felt like I was truly closing the door on that time of my life.

But sentiment was the only reason to keep it around. It might trigger memories, but in the meantime it was going to collect dust and take up space in the garage. At the same time, my sister-in-law’s need wouldn’t become any less real. I had to remind myself, it was going to be okay. It had done what it was designed to do. I had to let go of the physical object. The memories would always be mine, but it was time to send the stroller on to its new home. May it give my sister in law equally great memories.

I now have room for new adventures with wagons, big kid bikes, scooters, skateboards, or whatever else may find its way into my garage over the next several years. I may have closed one door, but that thought is enough to make me look forward to opening the next with a smile.

 

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Fake it until you make it

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it, Personal Favorites

We took a quick road trip over the weekend. The boys demanded a movie within seconds of the engine starting. We have a pile of DVDs ready for just such an emergency however we’ve played them so many times now that the hubby and I can repeat the dialogue by heart. Therefore we weren’t exactly thrilled to fire up the player. We told them they were going to have to wait until we reached the interstate.

We have two sets of headphones that go along with the entertainment system so that backseat passengers can listen to their movie while the front seat listens to the radio. Unfortunately my two-year old is too young to appreciate the benefit. He has no interest in keeping a large electronic accessory strapped to his head.

My eldest was patient for approximately ten minutes which I am sure felt like hours to him. He begged us once again to turn on a movie. We told him that we would put the movie on after his brother fell asleep. He immediately turned to his brother and said, “go to sleep so that we can watch a movie.”

If my youngest was any older, I am sure that would have been exactly the wrong thing to say to achieve his goal, instead my youngest smiled and pretended to fake sleep, including snoring. Snoring loudly. Then not so loudly.

I turned around. My youngest was sound asleep in his chair. He pretended he was asleep until it became his reality. I handed over the headphones to my eldest and fired up the DVD player. Three out of four of us achieved our goal.

The morale of the story is sometimes you have to fake it to make it. Or in my sons’ example, have your underlings fake it until you make it.

Mark Twain once said that “to succeed in life you need two things: confidence and ignorance.” The ignorance part is easy. We all start out as amateurs. Had I known everything I know now would I have taken the same path? Maybe. I can’t say, but I wouldn’t be the person I am today had I not veered off course or made a mistake or two hundred.

The confidence part is trickier. How can you build up your confidence when you’ve never done something before? Some people take issue with the phrase fake it to make it as the word fake implies that what you are doing is deceitful and or a lie. I understand where they are coming from, but I fear that they may be getting caught up on the literal definition. You should never commit fraud or portray yourself as anything other than authentic, but adults can and should still play make-believe. Like a toddler mimicking the actions of an adult, or older sibling, you have to act in the manner in which you believe a successful person should act. It’s not brainwashing. It’s practice. In this manner you gain experience, which reinforces belief. Belief then fuels confidence. If you can convince yourself that you deserve to succeed, then one day you may just discover that you are no longer pretending.

What is bad news today might just be the best news tomorrow

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

When my husband I decided to purchase our house, our lives were quite different from what they are today. I was only starting out in my career, he hadn’t yet caught the entrepreneurial bug and our only child was of the furry four-footed variety. At the time we enjoyed movies played at wall shaking volumes, hosting get togethers, playing pool, and brewing our own beer. Ah, the good old days…

Cover
Cover (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

All we wanted was a house located half way between our places of employment with grass for the dog to run on, an open floor plan for entertaining, and a large square room in which we could optimize our surround sound. I preferred an established neighborhood setting as that is what I had grown up in, but something built within the last fifty years. My husband had a few other items on checklist, but nothing uncommon. Our wish list for our first place wasn’t too demanding. Or so we thought.

After touring dozens of homes, I was thrilled when we found a place that met all of my criteria. I wanted to make the offer on the spot. Sure, there were a few things that I would like to alter, but overall it was a great space. Only it wasn’t a great space for both of us. My husband preferred the house next door.

I was shocked. In my opinion, we would need to gut the entire second story in order to make that space work. Why go through the trouble, when my pick had better bones? His answer? He couldn’t stand the kitchen. Okay he had a point. The kitchen in my pick was pretty awkward, but slap on a new counter-top, re-finish a few cabinets, and presto! Problem solved! Oh the simplicity of living with a dual income and no kids.

I might have eventually worn him down, made him compromise his wish list, but then we learned that there was another offer on the table. We decided not to enter into a bidding war on a property that wasn’t perfect for us both. We didn’t want to be forced to pay more when one of us would be reminded that they settled each time they looked out of the window. We chose to walk away from both properties. It was our choice, but I was thoroughly disappointed and more than a little frustrated.

Several tours later, we found another property that met much of our criteria to the delight of our Realtor. The kitchen was still less than ideal, there was no clear home theater room, and the location was skewed in the hubby’s favor. We might have been exhausted from endless shopping, but decided we could make it work. At least for a few years.

Missing out on the first house was the best bad news I’ve ever gotten.

The house we chose sits surrounded by some of the best neighbors a person could wish for. Some have sons and daughters similar to my children in age and temperament.  I get to sit back as the pack runs between yards. I know that as long as I keep a watchful eye out for their offspring, my neighbors will return the favor. Others have teenagers eager to earn babysitting or yard keeping dollars. We gleefully contribute to their causes. I am, after all, a supporter of tomorrow’s entrepreneur, especially when their efforts give me more free time.

Thinking of where I am now versus where I thought I should be, I am reminded of lyrics by the Rolling Stones:

You can’t always get what you want

But if you try sometime you find

You get what you need

I was saddened when we were forced to walk away from that first house. I thought I was going to have settle for a paltry runner-up. I worried the loss would leave me unsatisfied for years to come, yearning for the one that got away. Only now, watching my children play and seeing the joy on their faces, can I look back and see that what I interpreted as bad luck at the time, was actually completely its opposite. We might not have gotten what we originally wanted, but we made the best of what came our way afterwards. As a result, we found what we truly needed.

 

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