Creative Problem Solving

Before I had kids, I didn't understand the tornado of mess they could make. I grew up an only child, and was responsible for cleaning up after myself. Being the conscientious type, I didn't think this was a tremendous burden. Few of my friends had younger siblings, and the little interaction I had with those families left me thinking that things were a little crazy, but not too bad.

Time fades memory, and the introduction of kids x 2 has brought a new awareness of spills, stains, scratches, and marks that are seemingly impervious to energetic scrubbing. My brilliant husband was the one who steered us towards the couch & chair upholstered in chocolate brown microsuede, and I will be forever grateful for this genius decision. Graham cracker crumbs may glare like a neon sign against the dark cloth, but it does a fantastic job of hiding much of the detritus of spill-prone young 'uns.

Unfortunately, my car did not come equipped with equally dark seats and I have been bothered by the mysteriously off color spots which seem to appear on a weekly basis. Our recent Spring weather gave me a kick start to refresh the Family Truckster, and after a thorough vacuuming, I racked my brain for a solution to shortcut those dratted marks besmirching my upholstery.

Focusing on supplies at hand, I remembered the crib sheet which had met an untimely demise this summer. Why I had kept this I could not recall, but it proved to be the answer to my dilemma. I tucked and arranged, and in moments I had a perfect fit for my kid-spotted bench seat. Washable, easy to install, and exactly the right price for my budget - I LOVE my new car seat cover.

Perfect Imperfection

Whenever I get a few days off, I always get super-ambitious & make a to-do list with a few easy things (pay bills, make doctor's appointments), a few things which require a more marked effort (write & send thank you notes, clean out fridge), and a few things which require dedicated time and effort (plan Big Sis' party, make crib skirt, paint wooden letters). I crossed off all the easy things, most of the medium-difficult, and only one of the hard stuff.

I suppose I'm disappointing no one but myself, as the list really affects only me. I think I was so overwhelmed by planning Big Sis' party that the other stuff took a backseat (which in itself is not great, as I need the wooden letters & crib skirt to implement part of my birthday gift to her: a room makeover). Good news is that I think I have her party pretty well planned out. Bad news is that I only have 2 weeks to get my act together & finish the other things in order to pull off her full birthday experience.



I Know.

She's going to be 5.

Not 15.

5.

As she has no idea about the room makeover, whatever I do or don't do will still be a surprise to her. And she could really care less if I don't find the right party decorations or giveaway bags. As long as there is cake, tiaras, pink balloons, and a few friends, she will be pumped.

Every time I start to sweat the small stuff, I remind myself "No one cares about this but me. If I buy white sheets for her bed instead of the precise shade of pink I really want, it will still be adorable. And NO ONE but me knows the difference".

There is nothing wrong with having strong opinions. It's better to have an opinion than to say you don't care. Not caring is a cop out. But there's also a difference between being rigid and inflexible, and picking your battles (even if the battle is with yourself). When it really counts, I want it my way. But more and more frequently, I realize that I can relax a little and not get so worked up about the more minor details.

Case in point: Snack Day at pre-school. I simply don't have the time or the foresight to make organic fruit kebabs for eighteen 5 year olds. When it's our turn for snacks, they usually get Go-gurt or vanilla ice cream cups. Cheap, portable, single-serving, and kid approved. Done and done.

Does this make me a more imperfect parent? Or have I finally discovered the secret to keeping my sanity?

10 Months

I can't believe another month has come and gone. I was just getting used to telling people you are 9 months old, and now you are 10 months old!

I bought your first birthday gift last week, and am already preparing for you to turn 1. Yes, I know, you won't be my little baby any more, soon you'll be my toddler. I need the next two months to come to grips with that.

You changed while I was gone last week. You can shake your head "no", and that is new to me. I love spending time with you, laughing together while you slap my face, jump in your exersaucer, or watch one of your trains scoot around the floor. Still no crawling yet, but I know you're just saving your energy. After all, it's winter - you have to conserve your strength for very important baby activities such as power napping, mashed potato eating, and hand clapping.

Over Christmas vacation I saw a picture of Big Daddy when he was 3. It was a clear glimpse of what you will soon look like, and my heart swelled and broke at the same time. I am so proud to be the mother of such a strong, healthy, happy boy. So proud to be YOUR mother. I love you, my sweet son.