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July 20, 2007

4, 3, 2, 1...Blast-off!

In just four days we'll be setting off for sunny California!  Yay!  The last time I went, I was just one year younger than my oldest daughter is now.  Wow!  Where has the time gone?  I am so looking forward to this trip.  It will be wonderful to see all the things that I saw as a teenager with my own teenagers along for the ride.  I can't wait to see if things are still the way I remember them.

I'll get to visit with my aunt and uncle, whom I only see occasionally when they come to Montreal to visit my grandmother and I have't seen my cousins for a few years.  It will be great!

Plus, my uncle says the weather is great in Burbank right now, sunny and warm but not too hot.  That will be a welcome change from the bizarre weather we are having in Montreal this summer.  It is unusually cold this year and very rainy.  We actually had to wear windbreakers today when we went out! Normally at this time of year we are enjoying our backyard pool in 90+ temperatures.  Oh well, definitely time for a vacation.

So I will be away for a couple of weeks.  I'll be thinking of all of you. 

See you around August 10th!

Lucie

Regular Columnist, All in a Momday's Work

July 19, 2007

You Know You're Busy When...

Ohno It has been such a busy week. We have had something going on everyday plus a few of us are getting over the stomach flu on top of everything. But we have been tackling what we can - as we can.

I thought I was doing pretty well not getting stressed over my piling computer work, or my piling laundry for that matter. I thought I was taking things in stride, just doing the "have-to's," and not pushing myself too hard. I was proud of myself for just managing to get through all that was on the agenda this week even as my body is still healing.

Until today.

My daughter brought me a birthday invite for a party that she was to go to tonight - only to point out to me that it was last night!! I feel so horrible. How could I have messed that up? How could I have mistakenly thought it was on a night different than it was? To think that this little girl was expecting my daughter to show up only to have her a no-show... well, I just feel so badly.

Have you ever done that? I am used to being organized, punctual, and reliable. Now I feel unreliable and unorganized. I can only hope that this little girl and her mom will give us grace and mercy for dissapointing her on her special day. And maybe it will teach me to give a little extra grace when someone does that to us someday... because I know now, how it can happen and how it feels.

~ Dionna

July 18, 2007

Girl Power (And 1,000 Shoes To Boot)

excerpted from Linda Sharp's Don't Get Me Started blog

Girl Power.

It's something I believe in.

And no, I'm not alluding to the recently announced "world tour reunion" of the Spice Girls. (Although I will say that given the fact I am currently raising three daughters, my progeny easily covers the spectrum of Scary, Baby, Sporty, Posh, and Ginger  - yes, one of them has slight red highlights in her hair.)

Girl Power.

To me it goes far beyond singing about being in control, having the upper hand in relationship land, or confidently strutting across a stage in platform wedgies and a Union Jack flag.

To me, it's intensely personal.

As a mother of all daughters, power is something I have attempted to instill in them since Day One. Even as evolved as we like to think the world has become, women are still viewed as the "weaker sex", we still bang our heads against a glass ceiling, and still tend to get "little ladied" by the guy who changes the oil on the minivan. (You thought I didn't notice, hey, Thomas?)

So, being a firm believer in the power of the "X" chromosome, I was more than happy to accept Mattel's offer to participate in their 40 Blog Tour promoting their new website dedicated to girls. WeBelieveInGirls.com to be exact.

And while the website clearly aligns itself with their decades old maiden of modernity (Barbie), via the most recent incarnation of the ponytailed logo, WeBelieveInGirls.com is so much deeper than a plastic doll with shiny hair.

Rather, the website is about sharing. It's about discussing. It's about building bridges to tomorrow via the experiences girls are having today.

Yet in thinking about how I wanted to approach this article for them, I found I kept coming back to the most basic component, the most common denominator of so many girls' formative years - Barbie, herself.

You had one, five, ten. I did too. We had clothes - both store bought and those meticulously sewn by grandmothers - we had townhouses, airplanes, carrying cases, grosses of tiny plastic shoes. Some of us had the Corvette, some of us even had Ken.

Ahhh, dreamy, perfectly coifed (hard to have a hair out of place when your rug is as plasticine as Donald Trump's), genitalia-less, benign, inoffensive Ken.

Growing up with Barbie as a play staple, I had no qualms about gifting my oldest daughter with her first and tenth dolls. And with each subsequent daughter, the storage totes only grew with new additions - more dolls, more clothes, more @&*%$ shoes.

Of course, like most of us, I had that one friend who refused to allow their child to become acquainted with the world's most perfectly formed female. No, they did not want their two year old's perception of femininity skewed, distorted. They did not want to perpetuate what they felt was a bad stereotype. 

(Quite frankly, if any doll these days offers up a warped view of girlhood, it's the clunky footed, doe eyed, Angelina Jolie-lipped, heavily made-up Bratz dolls.  Barbie may indeed have a perfect tan and a size O waist, but Jasmine has two syringes of Restylane and a third of Juvederm in her pout.)

But I digress...

I laughed back then, thinking, "Where's the harm?", but respected the parent's wishes and never had the offensive dolls out during playdates and certainly never gifted their child with one on birthdays.

All the while, however, I kept thinking, "You're wrong. These are not bad toys."

As the years passed, and all three of my daughters grew through Barbie-land and into more grown up girl pursuits, I have come to realize that I do have something to say about Babs.

And I had the opportunity recently when a younger mother-friend of mine was going on the same rant about how her two year old was never going to know anything about "those dolls."

First and foremost - Barbie, like Barney, Teletubbies, Wiggles, Sesame Street, and diapers, is a phase. She doesn't last forever.  I haven't seen any high school seniors carrying her in their purses to the football game.

Second - while her influence does exist - it is (or should be) miniscule - microscopic even - compared to the influence of Mom and Dad and how they choose to expose their children to, and encourage them to explore, the outside world.

I offer my own girls as perfect examples:

My oldest, who used to spend hours and hours dressing, redressing, and make believing with the dolls, has not turned out to be a 15 year old with body issues. Sure, she played for years with dolls who more closely resembled a Baywatch Babe than any actual female she knew, but she looks in the mirror and loves who she sees.  Her legs are not like pipe cleaners and her breasts don't threaten to tip her over.

Her world is about friends, theater (ok, so all that make-believe did rub off a little), science, history, achievement. I've yet to hear her pining for her own airplane or pink townhouse, but ask her about Darfur or Da Vinci and she will talk for hours.

My middle daughter, a girl for whom Barbie was more than just a plaything - Barbie was REAL. Barbie dominated her bedding, her clothing, her walls, her every waking moment. Her room looked like it was hosed down with Pepto Bismal for a couple years.

She carried the dolls everywhere. She built elaborate stories around them. She lovingly styled their hair, and painstakingly accessorized every outfit they wore.

Nowadays, she is almost 14 years old, lovingly styles her hair and painstakingly accessorizes every outfit she wears, everyday.

OK, ok, so maybe some of it stuck.

But aside from being a fashionista, she is also an athlete, an actress, a scholar, a referee, and a teenager embodied with more integrity than most full grown adults.

Finally, there is daughter number three. Grandfathered in under the Barbie Commandment which reads, If thou enters this world with at least one older sister, thou shalt embrace the plethora of naked dolls and plastic shoes already littering thy house, so as not to drain the finances of thous parental figures by pursuing other toy-type interests.

Carson had no choice. Two sisters, thirty dolls, join the fun.

And so she did.

She played, she dressed them, she brought them to dine at the kitchen table, she strapped them into her carseat to keep them safe on rides. She liked having hair the same color as her "Bobbie" dolls (she is one of those chosen few who struggle with the letter "R" - Murphy's Law that she be named something challenging like CaRson ShaRp).

Today, her hair is still as naturally blond, but her clothing is decidedly tomboy, she is a stellar soccer player, Student Council President, and donates just about every cent she ever receives to some charity or another.

My point is this. To any parent who thinks that allowing your daughter to play with plastic means she will end up plastic, I say, "Think again."

Barbie is often a child's first brush with defining identity. Barbie is an innocent way to act out all those fairy tales they hear from birth. Barbie is a powerful way to transfer emotions they may not even be aware of until Barbie acts them out.

Barbie is a springboard.

Barbie, especially in all of today's forms, encourages a child to dare to think they, too, can be a doctor, a pilot, a business woman, a shop owner, or even a mom.

I would no more erase her contribution to my daughters' young years, than I would her contributions to my own.  Barbie takes a girl from make believing to believing she can make it - whatever her "IT" turns out to be.

That being said, I realize Barbie will forever have her detractors - those people for whom a long legged, plastic doll with decidely Cali-girl features will spell anti-feminism, gender bias, and impossible-to-reach standards. But in my home, I have three well rounded, charitable, focused, secure, dynamic, proactive daughters - all of whom have at one time embraced the magic of their Barbies, reveled in the "what ifs" of make believe with her, and have now moved on to the "what will be's" of their very real, very involved, very forward moving lives.

Now, more than ever, Barbie embodies what the new Mattel site is about. Barbie Believes In Girls.

And so do I.

Join us at WeBelieveInGirls.com .  Girl Power is waiting there for you.

(But if you find you need more, I hear tickets are still easy to come by for that Spice Girls extravaganza.  Scary....)

July 13, 2007

Bathing Suit Blues

For all of us with less-than-perfect bodies, something to make you  laugh....Jackie Papandrew

Bathing Suit Blues

I have to admit I admire men’s indifference to bathing-suit reality. Every man thinks he looks good in his bathing suit – even those with enough back hair to weave a small rug and a beer belly of sufficient size to be a walking Budweiser billboard. I envy that kind of confidence.

Almost every woman, on the other hand, believes she surely resembles a Teletubby in her swimsuit. We can only be persuaded to try on new ones each summer because – as with childbirth – we forget the agony endured during the experience. This seasonal amnesia allows us to set out once again on a search for the sublime suit, the one that will leave us looking like a supermodel.

When I was younger, I too was seeking a supermodel suit. I hoped to be considered bodacious in my bathing attire. Now, having a middle-aged mom midriff untouched by a surgeon’s scalpel, I’m content if my beach body fails to cause vomiting or retinal damage. So with these modest goals in mind, I began my spandex search earlier this spring.

I thought I’d found the ideal answer on the Internet with the Virtual Model. See, you can now re-create yourself online by entering your measurements. Then you can try on computerized bathing suits in the privacy of your home while eating an entire carton of Haagen-Dazs. The virtual you maintains her shape even as the real you adds another 10 pounds. It doesn’t get any better than that.

The virtual me turned out to be quite a hot mamma, I must say, and I eagerly anticipated the arrival of my online bathing suit.

Unfortunately, when I attempted to stuff my veritable skin into my virtual suit, I was sorely disappointed. Not only was I not a hot mamma, I wasn’t even warm. On the virtual me, certain appendages intended to nourish babies had provided a pleasingly perky presentation. On the real me, said appendages seemed to have vanished. Upon further inspection, I found them cowering under my armpits. The spectacle was even scarier in the lower regions, but I will spare you the details.

My high-tech suit solution having shriveled, I was forced to drag myself down to the department store and enter the psyche-smashing chamber of horrors known as the dressing room. Why do retailers insist on equipping their fitting rooms with 200-watt fluorescent lighting and three-way fun house mirrors? Don’t they realize if we could view our bodies, crammed as they are into shrink-wrapped rubber not much wider than dental floss, via candlelight through frosted mirrors (and perhaps after a couple of martinis), we’d likely take out a second mortgage to buy every suit in stock? 

Determined to bravely face the task at hand, I began my pilgrimage against pudginess by arming myself with an assortment of the latest in swimwear styles and colors: the tankini, which gives you the illusion of a two-piece but with the promise of greater coverage (a bikini with benefits, so to speak); the maillot, a one-piece that, just by virtue of having a French name, is bound to bestow a certain sexy je-ne-sais-quoi; skirted bathing suits supposedly capable of camouflaging cellulite and sarong swim attire meant to minimize the midsection. For a couple of hours, I stood in front of those blasted mirrors under those blinding lights and tried on suit after suit.

Sadly, none of them met even my humble expectations. The tankini tanked as my flesh oozed out of its assigned areas. The maillot, despite its French connections, was a definite non. I squeezed into suits both black (which conveniently matched my mood) and colored, checked suits and some with polka-dots. Nothing made me happy. I struggled into a skirted floral number that made me look frighteningly like Hyacinth the Hippo. I wrapped myself in a striped sarong that was definitely not right.

In the end, I left empty-handed, dubbing my quest a dismal failure. Now, I’m considering spending the summer in a burlap sack. First, though, I’m going to pay another visit to that vixenish virtual me. Maybe I’ll feed her some Haagen-Dazs.

© Jackie Papandrew 2007

JackiePapandrew.com

Mommy! It Hurts!

I've helped ease a lot of pain in my daughter's life in all of her 15 years.  I remember lying awake at night with her lying on top of me, her ear pressed against my chest because the heat from my body was the only thing that could ease the acute pain of her chronic middle-ear infections.  I remember holding her tightly and drying her tears after nursing scraped knees with my "magic bandages".  Even more recently, I remember holding her hand at the ER clinic while a doctor drained an abcess at the base of her spine, with no anestetic, and then sitting by the couch 2 months later as she lay on her tummy, convalescing from the surgery to completely remove the infected region where the abcess had returned.  As hard as it was for me to see her in pain, somehow, I always managed to find a way to may her feel better... to ease her pain.

Today, I am faced with a new hurt in my baby - one that I am not sure I can help heal.  She is suffering from a broken heart.  The first of many if she is anything like her mom, but she is so down that I'm not sure how to bring her up again.  At 15, she can't understand that she has her whole future ahead of her and that just because this boy decided that he no longer wanted to be her boyfriend, it doesn't mean that she will die and "old maid". So last night, I consoled her, gave her a shoulder to cry on, and told her to trust me and believe that everything would be OK.  But I feel helpless. I wish I could do more to take away her pain.

If any of you moms have been through similar experiences, I would certainly welcome any comments/suggestions.  Knowing that  I will most certainly go through this again, with is daughter or with my other two children, any tidbit of information that I can arm myself with will help.

Lucie

All in a Mom-day's Work

July 10, 2007

Hubby's Clothes

I have a secret. I am more creative when I wear my husband's clothing. I like men's clothing...it gives me room to grow, but that's not the only reason.

This started years ago. When I was a teenager, I started stealing my father's black, wool V-neck sweaters to wear on cloudy days because they fitted me loosely, and paired well with faded Levi's and black boots. After so many years of going back and forth from my closet to his, he just gave up and gave me his sweaters. They never pilled or became threadbare. They went from one fashion trend to the next...matched with tapered or A-line tweed skirts, under plaid scarves wrapped around my neck, or over collared blouses when I got glasses in my twenties and decided to look smart instead of wild. And it worked, because I wrote my best papers in college when it was overcast outside and those black sweaters hung off my shoulders and allowed me to roll up the sleeves without the consequence of over-stretching.

Sweaters were just the tip of my fondness for men's clothing. I borrowed a striped rugby shirt from my high school boyfriend because it brought a sporty feel to a favorite black dress, and it sat bunched up in a ball on my bed as I wrote (bad) poetry about our break-up. I hijacked another boyfriend's childhood Notre Dame Fighting Irish sweatshirt, figured out it was as bad luck as he was and went back to my Huskies attire as I wrote him off. And when I met the man I was going to marry, he had no idea his wardrobe was doomed. But he proved smart from the beginning, and surrendered the clothing I wanted to wear just like my father. When I saw a navy blue V-neck sweater in Pete's closet when we first started dating, I knew I was on to something, or someone, good (familiar?).

"How come you don't wear that sweater?" I asked. "Too preppy, I guess." He replied. "I like it, though." Cleverly. "You can have it, then." It went so well with my billowing ivory skirt and brown riders boots. I had declared history my major, and rolled up the sleeves of his sweater as I researched the Civil Rights movement in the university library, pencil behind my ear, a fresh Cafe Mocha steaming beside me. I loved writing papers. I love low clouds. I love comfie sweaters made for guys and things that last.

I sit here at 10:54 p.m. on a Monday evening, in my husband's Adidas gym shorts, my husband's Fruit of the Loom white tank, and, yes, my hubby's boxers I've been laundering and sneaking into my drawer for years now. Each day as I try to write something fresh, I usually have one item of my husband's clothing on or near me. Ankle socks that rise up just past my K-Swiss, polo shirts that smell of his cologne hanging over a dining room chair, sweaters that he's decided aren't "him" anymore. I'll take it honey. I'll take whatever luck, and comfort I can get.

Is it luck, is it love, is it superstition? Who cares.  It works.

July 06, 2007

An Extreme Diapering Experience

Last week, my husband and I found out the sex of our fifth child.  Right now, we have one girl and three boys, soon to add one more boy.  I like to pride myself on being a frugal mother, especially since we farm and have a big family.  And now, with four boys to feed, it will seem like I am feeding an army.

We have a HUGE vegetable garden in which we freeze the sweet corn, beans, and green peppers, can tomatoes as salsa and spaghetti sauce and cucumbers as dill pickles.  This helps on the grocery bill tremendously, as well as harvesting our own potatoes and butchering a whole beef once a year.  Yet I refuse to get a diary cow.  I just draw the line at that. 

But now, I have decided to pinch the pennies even tighter.  How?  I have made the switch and commitment to using—Gasp!  CLOTH DIAPERS.  And don’t forget the cloth wet wipes.  If I am going to do it, I might as well do it right.  I thought the process would be easy.  However, I was quickly proven wrong. 

Do you know how many different varieties of cloth diapers that exist?  Well, you have your regular square ones our mothers used on us with the safety pins with the plastic elastic pants that go over them. (These work GREAT as dust clothes!) Next are the Chinese prefolds and finally you have the fitted and contour cloth diapers.  These are the MOST confusing, especially for a mother who is just getting into the market because there are so many styles and brands to choose from.  Once you get over that hurdle, then you get to the easy part. 

First, you find your size.  Okay, no problem.  Just pick the poundage of your baby.  Then you need decide how many you want on hand.  The more you order, the less laundry you do during a week.  Then you choose the color.  You can get bright red, yellow, blue and green to the softer pastels of yellow, pink, blue, and purple and just about every color in between.  Some web sites offer neon colors.  The last part is choosing the inserts that go inside the lining of the fitted diaper for extra absorbency.  This proved to be a bit difficult for me.  Do I want cotton?  What about hemp?  Do I need to two inserts, or will one get me by?  Alright.  I’ll go with the hemp.  But which supplier should I go with?  So many choices, so little time. 

Finally, after days of shopping on line, comparing web site prices and delivery charges to what colors are available and actually choosing what diaper to get, I ordered the diapers.  Don’t forget though, you will need a diaper pail (or a contraption used for this purpose) and wet wipes.  Instead of ordering the cloth wet wipes on line, I was even more inventive.  We have a ton of receiving blankets we didn’t use and that are just sitting in totes in a dark closet.  So, I cut those bad boys up into little squares, zigzagged them on the sewing machine and voila.  Instant wet wipe.  And washable. 

I kind of feel like an extremist.  This is the biggest step away from the “norm” that I have ever done in child rearing, it feels quite abnormal.  My colleagues look at me and say I am crazy.  My mother-in-law is quite matter of fact that SHE used cloth diapers with all SEVEN of her kids.  So it is no big deal to her that I am switching over in the middle of five kids.  Yeah, I am know I am crazy.  Number five is coming in about four months and it is another boy.  You have to be crazy to live in our house, because it really does help. 

            Marsha