We Never Look Our Age

Here is M and a former classmate. 

Last week in our parent teacher conference M's teacher told us a funny story. One of M's classmates had come up to the teacher and said that M wasn't telling the truth. M had told this child, who is 5 years old, that she is 3 years old, and this child didn't believe her, so he went to the teacher to inform her of what he thought was a lie. The teacher informed the student that yes, M is in fact only 3 years old, but she looks a lot older than she actually is because she is so tall. The kid was stunned. M's teacher then went on to tell us in the conference that sometimes she too forgets how young M is, because she is actually one of, if not the tallest in her class of 3-6 year olds.

This is something our girl is going to have to deal with her entire life.

In just 4 weeks from now M will be 4 years old. She is a head above most of the kids her age. She is in size 6 clothing (due to her crazy long arms and legs - she can only really wear leggings as pants just fall off of her). She is in a size 11.5 shoe. She looks like she is 6 years old.

Whenever I tell anyone how old she actually is they are shocked. But then I go on to explain that her daddy is almost 7 feet tall, and I am 5 foot 9 inches tall, so our kids are going to be giants.

I remember when I was young, I was always one of the two tallest girls in my class. I hated it at the time. All the boys were shorter than I was. All of the girls that were liked by the boys were petite and shorter than I was, and I felt like this big freak show towering over all my friends. It wasn't until high school, when the boys caught up with the girls, and I had many more girlfriends my height, that I actually became comfortable with my size. And then marrying a very tall man changed my world and allowed me amass a fabulous collection of 4+ inch heeled shoes...that I can't stand to wear anymore because I am old and prefer flats. Ha.

But even at a young age, despite my height, I was always mistaken for being much older than I actually was. Guess how old I am in this photo on the left (with my gorgeous mama)...15. I am only 15! I look like I am in my mid-20s. I used to love that people thought I was much older too, but in fact I was usually the youngest kid in my class.

These days I get something totally different - whenever I am out with my mom we are constantly asked if we are sisters. My mother is 61, and I am 34. I will give it to my mom that she looks younger than 61, but sisters? Was I our parents' later in life mistake? I am sure people do it more as a compliment to how good my mother looks, but I get so fired up when it happens - and it happens often. We once even got asked if we were twins. Come on now people!!

I worry about M being perceived as being older than she is. I know she is a smart girl, so she will have no problem academically (at least I hope) but she will always be a little more emotionally young than people think she should be. I am not going to lie, sometimes I forget how young she actually is. I expect her to pay attention to me all the time, and do things for herself, and find myself getting frustrated when she can't do things I ask of her. But then I remember that just a year ago she was in diapers (unbelievable to think about) and only a little over two years ago she was starting to walk on her own (she was a late walker)!

Let's hope M and I both get my mom's genes and at some point do a 180 and start looking younger than we actually are...

Living Paleo: A Lifestyle Change

I have a very good friend who is a certified nutritionist. I was going to come up with some different name for him, but let's call him Bobby, as that is his name. Bobby isn't just a regular old heath nut, he is a health nut who used to be very overweight, but is now in the best shape of his life. As with all people who have gone through a life changing experience, (be it a born again Christian, a huge weight loss, a recovering addict, etc.) he gets a little preachy now and then, especially to those who still have his old habits of eating (which is pretty much the majority of mankind). But I can't fault him, as he has come a long way, and looks amazing and has devoted his life to health and fitness, and more importantly improving people's lives.

In the past he has posted things on Facebook that make me want to throw my shoe at his face through my computer. I would sit there, eating my toast with peanut butter and yogurt in the morning and see on my Facebook feed something like "living your life by "points" may help you get thin, but it won't get you healthy. There is a difference," or " 'I actually eat pretty health' - No You Don't'." I'd roll my eyes and think about a snarky comment to make after his status, and go about my day eating my version of what I thought was healthy.

Or if I needed to lose weight I would fire up my Weight Watchers app and start counting points again. Bags of 100 Calorie chips would line my pantry, light this, and fat-free that stocking the fridge shelves. Six pounds would come off in a month, and as soon as I started eating like I was before, oh, how quickly that would come back on.

I knew what Bobby thought was "healthy" from talking with him, and seeing him eat in front of me. I knew he didn't eat carbs, didn't have sugar and gave up dairy. Yeah, there was no way in the world I was giving up my beloved bread, and cheese! Are you kidding me? I live for cheese. Or so I thought...

But then my husband and I decided to start eating Paleo (which is basically what Bobby has been doing since he lost all his weight) and living a Paleo lifestyle requires you eat a dairy-, carb-, gluten- and sugar-free diet. I figured I would indulge my husband and see how it was to eat this way for a few weeks, maybe a month, but for sure I would go back to eating the way I was before, or even start counting points to lose weight. How was I going to lose weight eating bacon and eggs? Or cooking with coconut oil? How was I going to survive without my pretzels? Or Pirate Booty? Or afternoon cheese and crackers?

Well, my friends, 30-days of eating Paleo has come and gone in a flash. Here I sit at my computer, 12 pounds lighter, and feeling absolutely fabulous. And you know what? I don't even miss my best friend Bucheron! I thought I would be dying for some cheesy goodness, but I don't have the slightest craving. I do still crave carbs every now and again, but a few nuts in my mouth (my husband is giggling at his desk right now) and I am good to go.

And it is taking every ounce of self control that I have not to turn into Bobby and take to Facebook telling everyone that they need to stop eating the way they are eating now and start eating healthy!! I now look back at all Bobby was saying and I want to give him a hug and say "why didn't you force me to listen to you back when you were preaching to me through facebook! You were talking to me weren't you!" I want to shout it from the roof tops that eating meat and vegetables, the way our bodies were intended to be fed, makes you feel great! It gives you energy! You can eat bacon and lose weight people!! I want to tell people to look at the labels on what they are eating - most of the man made crap that is in the processed food you eat is what is causing major diseases and health problems in the world today. If it didn't have a mother, or grow out of the ground - don't eat it it folks!

What I thought would be just a 30 day fling has turned into a lifestyle for my hubs and I, and hopefully soon we will be transitioning 3-year old M to a Paleo lifestyle too. We won't be nearly as strict with her as we are with ourselves, because we don't want her to miss out on the joys of being a kid and indulging every once in a while. That is not to say that we too won't indulge once in a while, but a piece of bread every 3 weeks or so will not kill us if we continue to eat this way every other meal of our lives. Next is to transition my parents to Paleo...

It is a revolution peeps...hop on the train and get healthy. Like Bobby said, you might think that you eat healthy but I am sure you don't.

Please don't throw a shoe at me through your computer.

What I Will And Won't Miss About Being Pregnant

As I near the end of this second pregnancy I continue to ride emotional roller coaster that is being pregnant. These last couple weeks with a bun in the oven are going to be incredibly bittersweet, full of tears and happiness and ends of eras and new beginnings. My husband and I have agreed from day one that we would only have two children, so these are the last few weeks of my life that I will ever be pregnant. It is a strange thing to say out loud - I will never be pregnant again (we will be taking measures to make sure it doesn't happen so no "you never know!" comments please :). It has made me think back a lot about this pregnancy and the things I will miss about being with child, and the things that I look forward to once the baby has come into this world. So here is my list for your enjoyment...

The things I will miss about being pregnant:

- The maternity clothes. Who doesn't love an elastic waistband and not having to suck it in in anything that you wear?
- The attention from other people. Having a baby bump is an automatic invitation for people to talk to you, and more importantly be nice to you! Doors are held, smiles are given, seats are given up (if you are lucky to be surrounded by people with common decency)...it is like you are even more important because you are gestating a human being, and damn that feels good. Once you pop that baby out though, all attention immediately switches to the child (understandably of course).
- Eating whatever I want. I know, I know, you shouldn't pig out just because your are pregnant, but I have, and I have loved every second of it. Soon gone will be the days of picking up a cupcake when shopping at Whole Foods, or having an ice cream sundae after dinner, so I am enjoying it while I can!
- Spoiling myself. I have been getting a lot more pedicures than I usually do because "my feet need a massage" and even have indulged in a few spa treatments because "I need to relax." Of course I can use those excuses once baby comes, but when will I have the time?
- Being able to park in the "expectant mother" parking at the grocery store or Babies R Us. I will say it again - why isn't there Mother with Small Children parking??? You need it more then!
- Feeling the baby move around inside me. This has always kind of creeped me out, but in a really cool way. This child has been moving around like a crazy person the last few months, and now I am even able to feel little feet when she stretches out, which, come on, is a little gross, but totally awesome! She is now the same size as M was when she was delivered (well, same age) so I have a good sense as to what she looks like sizewise, and it is just so cool to me to see her move around and fight for space with all that food I have been eating.
- Just the three of us. I am not going to lie, I am very sad that it won't be just M, my husband and I anymore. Not that I am not excited to have a new family member in our lives, but it has been just the three of us for 2.8 years now, and she has had us all to ourselves. I will miss all the alone time we get to spend together now, but of course look forward to her growing up with a little sister. I just fear her reaction once she realizes that "baby sister in Mommy's belly" is actually a living breathing human being!

The things I will NOT miss about being pregnant:

- Feeling like I was seasick on a boat for the first 4 months of the pregnancy
- My weekly progesterone injections (to stave off early labor like last time)
- The hemorrhoids, back acne, eczema, dandruff, constipation, terrible heartburn and other interesting health things
- The frequent sinus infections
- Crazy swollen, itchy hands that then get covered in hives when I scratch (this is an anomaly to my doctor!) after going from inside to humid outside
- The extra weight that I have gained making my back so bad I could hardly move (has since gotten better after rest, stretching and icing - thank you!)
- My ginormous boobs and darkening nipples - hot I know.
- The excess of hair all over my body
- Not being able to "lady-scape" without fear of cutting myself because I can't see past my belly
- Having to wear orthopedic flip flops because my feet are swollen and my back hurts so badly.
- Peeing 4-5 times a night, and not being able to sleep on my back
- Having to arrange my pregnancy pillow and two other pillows every time I roll over in bed.
- Not being able to take anything stronger than Tylenol for pain and colds

It is amazing how much different this last pregnancy has been than my first. I don't remember much about the first pregnancy but I do remember basking in the glow of being pregnant the entire time, and not having any of the above symptoms to spoil my experience. Makes me think that this baby might be the polar opposite of M in life too...hopefully she doesn't pick her nose as much as M has been lately!

Toddler 411: Stop Putting Things Up Your Nose!

Mamas and Papas - I need your advice!

For the past few months M has been obsessed with her nose. There is constantly a finger up one nostril or the other and I am telling her 100 times a day to "get your finger out of your nose." But lately instead of a finger she has started sticking things up there.

The other day I caught her with the pointy end of a paintbrush up there. I have found her sticking crayons up her nose. And even more frequently I am doing goldfish-ectomies with the Nose Frida and pair of tweezers!

What is the deal with the nose obsession?

Does she get this from me? My father is obsessed with his nose, largely in part to his terrible sinuses...which as I have mentioned countless times on here I have inherited. We are always blowing or squeezing, or itching or spraying something something up our noses...and yes I am totally guilty of the pick now and again. Did she learn this by watching me (as the old 80s drug PSA used to say)?

At the first sign of snot I am on her like Donkey Kong with the Nose Frida, sucking out any snottiness, and now she expects the relief so she is always asking for "boogie sucks" when her nose starts to run. Have I created a nose-obsessed monster?

Or is this fairly normal? Do your children like to stick things in their noses?

And when she does this, what kind of reaction should I have? I freak out of course and yell at her because I am so scared that she will damage her sinuses or nasal passage and lose her sense of smell or something crazy like that. She doesn't seem to get the point though because she is still sticking things up there - case and point the piece of carrot I removed an hour ago.

I will never forget when I was young (probably 5) and I stuck a bead in my ear and we had to go to the hospital. I remember it like it was yesterday - those long skinny scissor like tweezers they used to remove the wooden sphere. I have visions of me at the hospital with M in the near future getting that same instrument put up her nose!

How do I make this stop? Do I not draw attention to it? Do I yell more (that seems to be my M.O.)?

Help a Mama out!

Mama J: the J is for Jabba the Hut or Jinxed!

This is what I feel I look like...



Everyone I come in contact with gives me the ole "you look so great!" line but I know what I look like (see above photo). I am 35 weeks pregnant right now and suffering. As I mentioned in a previous post, I am ready to not be pregnant, but so not ready to have a second child.

This pregnancy could not be more different than my first with M. I don't remember a lot of the first one 3 years ago, but I definitely remember not being this uncomfortable at this point in my pregnancy (of course I had M in basically a week from now! GASP!). Heart burn, indigestion, constipation, hemorrhoids, plantar fasciitis...I am exhausted and ravenous as well. And to top it all off I am dealing with the worst back pain of my life.

Ten years ago I injured my back at the gym...I slipped on a puddle of sweat left after a spin class, and ended up herniating a disk in my lower back. I was young and stupid and didn't go to a doctor right away, but took dance classes and worked out every day and just kept taking Aleve to help with the pain. Little did I know that I was making my back worse, and causing stress fractures to my spine, so I will one day have to have a serious surgery to fix it all. For now I just have cortisone shots in my back (4 shots at once every one to two years) and unfortunately didn't have one for a year before I started to try and get pregnant with this second baby...so now I am suffering!

Over the past week I have been suffering even more so because the disk that is herniated is now causing nerve problems in my right hip. So much so that I was sobbing in tears because the pain was so bad last week that I literally could not move from where I was standing. I have a very high tolerance for pain (at least I think I do) so my husband knew that this was serious. Unfortunately for me, he is so crazy busy with work right now that he can't take time off to help with M, so my parents had to come in to help around the house the last few days (thank the universe for them!!)

So as soon as the pain got really bad I put calls into all my doctors...My one OB (there are 4 at the practice) told me to go get cortisone shots. The side effects would be minute (possible slowing of the babies growth but that could be monitored and was very rare) and the benefit much outweighed the risk as I could barely move. I then went to see my back doctor who told me I was too far along in my pregnancy to get cortisone shots, and that I should stretch. Stretch this I wanted to tell her!! I can't move when I get this pain! So then I called my OB back again, who told me to go see a Chiropractor. I go see a Chiropractor and I leave the office unable to walk across the street to my car in tears.

I call my back doc again and she told me never to go to a Chiropractor with my back injuries! She then tells me that maybe I should consider bed rest. Bed rest? I wish I could go on bed rest! I would love to lay in bed for the next 4-5 weeks and watch TV and putz around on the computer and not have to worry about anything else, but I have a 2.5 year old to take care of! Unless it was medically necessary and I was told by my OB I needed to go on bed rest, it is out of the question. So now I am meeting with an acupuncturist tomorrow...I am desperate for relief and will try anything.

And the problem is that I only have this terrible debilitating pain about 10% of the day. The rest of the day I am fine. Seriously it is every time that I say to myself "wow I feel really good now" that I move a certain way and the pain comes on like a Mac truck in my back and hip. I totally jinx myself each time I put that thought out into the universe! Not cool universe.

So for now I have to suffer, and grin and bear the pain until the baby comes and I can take some stronger meds than Tylenol. While I have enjoyed being a pregnant woman, and all the attention that comes with it, I am so ready to be done and have my body back. Yes of course I love the miracle of growing a baby inside of me, and when I sit on the couch and this child is moving around so much you would think she was trying to claw her way out of me like Renesmee it is pretty cool (and pretty creepy if you ask me)...but baby I am ready for you to be out of me and join our crazy family!

But then there is the fact that my lawyer husband will be on trial out of town for two weeks right before my due date...but that is for another post! Enough from Mama Jabba!!





- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Oh Baby it’s Cold Outside…Achoo!

Every year around this time we spend more time indoors, the heat is cranked and inevitably one of us gets sick and then “shares” it with the rest of the family. My daughter, L, has gone to daycare since she was 3.5 months old (she is now 2) and this will be our 3rd New England winter. It seems like every winter, we go through an epic number of Boogie Wipes. I’m hoping that we’ll stay relatively cough and cold-free this year now that she’s a bit older and not prone to sticking absolutely every toy in her mouth that every other kid from daycare has inevitably drooled or chewed on.

We’ve been really lucky because L has been really healthy her whole life, in fact we have only had one unscheduled doctor’s visit since she was born! In my circle of playgroup pals, I have realized how many parents have questions about how often their kids get sick and is there something that they could do nutrition-wise or environmentally to help their kids thrive. Maybe I’m just more attuned to this because in my non-mom role, I teach Nutrition courses at the Friedman School of Nutrition Science and Policy at Tufts University and also do Asthma Research at Children’s Hospital Boston.

To try to dispel some of the myths and misconceptions about allergies and asthma, I contacted Mama J to see if the Boston Baby Mama readers would be interested in me contributing regularly to the blog. One of the topics that Mama J was interested in hearing about was how much genetics comes into play in allergies and asthma, so I’ll be working on a post about that soon, but so that I can get other ideas, please send topics of interest my way to the email asthma@childrens.harvard.edu or please post a comment!

Mama-Guyver: DIY Snot Sucker

I have written twice in the last year about my love for the Nose Frida (& here.) It seriously is a must have for every mom out there. I have such a pet peeve about snot running down kids faces, that I am tempted to whip it out of my diaper bag and Nose Frida every child I see with a runny nose. Why would you not want to relieve your child of a stuffy/runny nose immediately! They can't use Afrin (I know, terrible for you, but I can't live w/o it when I am sick) so might as well use the next best thing.

So when I was caught down in Newport, RI this weekend without my Nose Frida (or my Boogie Wipes) I was so mad at myself. M became very sick overnight with a fever, throwing up and a crazy stuffy/runny nose (I have been sick and it was a matter of time before she caught what I had). I immediately ran out to CVS to see if they carried the Frida or Boogie Wipes, but I wasn't in luck. I purchased a nasal aspirator bulb to give it a try, but didn't get my hopes up as I have never been a big fan of them.

After a couple of failed attempts to suck snot with the aspirator I gave up and just started wiping her nose constantly. Well, this just made her nose raw, and made her cry every time I came near her with a tissue. I was so mad at myself for not being prepared for this to happen! But then I thought (as I do with most things I come across) "I can make one myself!" And I went to work...

Watch out boogies - I'm coming for you

In a few easy steps I had created my own "snot sucker" of sorts (pictured right):
1. Remove the pointed end of the nasal aspirator bulb (this Little Noses version popped off, but you might have to cut it off)
2. Take the pointy end off of an adult bottle of nose spray. The key here is that you need something to stick just at the end of the nostril that is as big as the nostril, so that you create a seal. I also had to cut off the end of the tip to make the hole bigger.
3. Push new pointed end into opening of bulb.
4. Cut small hole in opposite end of bulb. You must have a nice tight seal around the straw so keep it small to start.
5. Insert straw into hole. I used the straw from a sippy cup, but you could probably use any straw. Longer the better.
6. Start sucking!!

Because of the size and shape of the bulb, do not worry about getting snot in your mouth (gag!). The snot stays in the bulb easily.

While this didn't work as well as a true Nose Frida, it worked 10 times better than the bulb itself and I was able to relieve M of some of the stuffiness and stop the snot from running down her nose. I couldn't have been happier to get home early this morning though and use the Nose Frida. You could not believe the difference in her mood after I did use it - she was able to breathe and was instantly more comfortable!

So help your kid out - stop wiping away the boogers and start sucking them out!! They will thank you for it...and so will I!

SuperMama G & SuperBaby

When I was younger I don't remember anyone that I knew having cancer. In the past 10 years I feel like I hear about a different person being diagnosed with cancer every week. I know so many people fighting this monster, and a few that have lost their battles in the last few years. I have seen my aunt battle it for about 7 years now, even after she was given just a short amount of time to live in the beginning. 2 of my best friends have lost their fathers in the last few years to cancer. I have two friends, my own age, battling it out right now. And now, just two weeks ago, another best friend's life was touched by this insanity - her 14 month old son was diagnosed with Neuroblastoma.

I will start by saying that Superbaby (as I will call my friend G's son) had a cancerous tumor successfully removed, and has since had clear scans, so there is no cancer in his body. Hallelujah! We all breathed a collective sigh of relief at this wonderful news, but this is just the beginning of many scans over the next few years.

My friend G has been SuperMama over the last month. Through Superbaby's surgeries and procedures, waiting anxiously by the phone for results, taking care of her 3 year old son, driving an hour into the city multiple times a week for appointments, all the while trying to keep her sanity. She might have gotten a few more gray hairs during all this, but she donned her super cape every day and did what she had to do to take care of herself and her family.

I will admire her always for her strength throughout this time. I wish I could step in her shoes and take over for her sometimes...to help with this emotional burden, because I don't know how she does it. I am so happy to have her, and her family, in my life. She is Auntie to M, and I consider her my family.

It is amazing how people come together at a time like this. G's family and friends raised around $17,000 (in just two short weeks) in Superbaby's name for the Jimmy Fund walk this past weekend. We had 30 people come out and do the actual walk in support of Superbaby too. It was so touching to see little Superbaby surrounded by all of the kids and adults who love him so much. We are all so thankful this was caught so early and we all know in our hearts that he will use his super powers to dodge this for the rest of his life.

Seeing the kids in the walk yesterday just made me realize how out of perspective things in my life get. Here I am getting so upset about M walking funny, or head being oddly shaped, and there are kids battling cancer at her age. Makes me hug her a little tighter and kiss her even more (of course not willingly on her part) every time I see her.

So Mamas, hug and kiss your kids, and tell them you love them more often than you do now.

That is all I have to say...oh and FU Big C. A cure is coming for ya...

The Weight Watchers

Last Friday, C went to her two year physical at Dr. P's office. I looked forward to sharing some of Cs newest milestones with Dr. P., like jumping, occasionally peeing on the potty, and sometimes speaking in sentences. C seems to learn something new every day and we are consistently amazed and amused by her many achievements and antics. I had no concerns regarding C's development. In fact, I believed she was thriving in every way.

When we entered the examination room, a nurse and nurse-in-training asked routine questions about our home life and C's medical history. They measured her height, exactly 36 inches. Next, they tried measuring C's weight. As soon as C stood on the rickety upright scale, she began to cry and seek immediate escape. The nurses suggested I plop her on the infant scale. Again, C screamed, begged, and pleaded to get down. In order to soothe her apprehension, we tried to weigh C's dolly. I stood on the scale, grinning as though I love nothing more than checking my weight, even 27 weeks pregnant. We let C play with the balancing mechanism on top of the scale. Nothing worked. Finally, the nurses led C to a digital scale in the next examination room. Although she only stood on the scale for one second, the nurses were able to record C's weight-34 pounds, 11.5 ounces.

We returned to our original examination room where the nurses entered C's information into the computer. Together, the nurses scrutinized C's chart and discussed something "not looking right." Calling me to the computer screen, they showed me how C's weight falls outside her projected growth given her height, age, and previous weights. Surely, the nurses thought they made a mistake and back to the digital scale we went. Again, C stood on the scale for one second and again the scale recorded exactly 34 pounds, 11.5 ounces. There was no mistake.

Since birth, Little C's weight and height have fallen above the 95%tile for her age, therefore I did not feel any concern regarding her current weight. She eats well, she is active, her overall health is excellent. Although I was not worried, the nurses seemed concerned and went to find Dr. P. Certainly, Dr. P. would reassure the Weight Watchers that C has always been big and this number was nothing to worry about.

After looking at C's chart however, Dr. P. also seemed slightly worried. She asked me about C's eating habits. She recommended we switch from whole milk to skim. She gave advice on portion control and waiting at least 20 minutes before offering C seconds. As I listened to her advice, I found myself feeling first defensive, then angry, then ashamed. Am I doing something wrong? Am I raising a child heading down a road toward childhood obesity?

I thought about our habits at home. Should I not allow Lil' C to drink an occasional juice box? Was I wrong to give her seconds at dinner last night? Do I need to throw out our box of Fig Newtons, even though they are the whole grain variety? Then, I began defending myself. For God sakes, my daughter eats quinoa! One of her favorite foods is broccoli. I told Dr. P. we do not have junk food in the house (not entirely true, but I do not share my Cheetos). We eat a balanced diet. I am a healthy cook. We take walks and go to the park almost every day. Dr. P. said she was certain we were doing everything right, but again mentioned we should switch to skim milk.

When we left the doctor's office my feelings of shame and anger gave way to insecurity. Maybe C is big because I am somehow negligent. C has always loved food. As a baby, she ate bowl after bowl of sweet potatoes, oatmeal, and yogurt. I never forbid her from having seconds. If C asks for more, I believe she must feel hungry and need the sustenance. While we stock our home with healthy choices, I certainly do not deny C an occasional hot dog, cookie, or bowl of ice cream. Since being pregnant, my own eating habits have steered slightly toward the unhealthy. Maybe I've steered my daughter in the same direction. I never once worried about C's weight, however leaving this appointment I began to wonder if maybe I had reason to worry after all.

Over the next week, a couple of incidents occurred that made me feel even more insecure. On Wednesday night, we celebrated Papa's birthday. After we sang Happy Birthday, Nana announced to the room, "Why don't we wait to serve cake until after C goes to bed. The doctor said she's overweight." While her statement was met with loud protests from the guests, C and I left very quickly. Heaven forbid we delay the family from eating cake. And last Friday while playing in the park, C sat next to a little boy on top of the slide. The boy's mother and I made small talk about our children and she asked about Lil' C's age. When I said she turned two about a week ago, the mother replied, "Oh my God! She's a giant!" Her son turned two in May and C was nearly double his size. Envisioning my enormous daughter trampling her fragile son on the playground, we soon headed for home.

Then I received a phone call from Dr. P's office. While I sat in a meeting, my iPhone vibrated, alerting me to a voicemail from the doctor. Clearly, a terrible message was waiting for me. Why does a doctor's office call, unless they have bad news to share? Unable to leave my meeting, I became increasingly distracted and anxious, fearing an endless list of terrible possibilities. By the end of my meeting, I convinced myself C had type I diabetes. I imagined a life filled with insulin shots and a gluten-free diet. Finally, my meeting ended and I was practically in tears as my shaky hands dialed voicemail.

As I listened to my voicemail, a nurse cheerfully told me C's blood work was normal and she was not at risk for lead poisoning. She did not mention C's weight. She certainly did not mention diabetes. Feeling great relief, I suddenly realized my worries were truly ridiculous. Yes, my daughter is big for her age. One day, she may be the largest child in her kindergarten class. She may soon outgrow toddler-sized clothing. She may like to eat a second, or even third, hot dog every now and then. But, she is healthy, she is growing, and she is beautiful. Worrying about her weight and denying her the chance to eat food she enjoys will only create further anxiety and possibly distort my daughter's views about food forever. I am not going to take that chance. We will switch to skim milk, but tonight, we are also going to eat some cake.

She might be giant

I first met my husband in the summer of 2000, when we both worked for the Boston Red Sox. I will never forget the first moment we laid eyes on each other - it wasn't love at first site - but if you met him, you too would remember your first encounter.

I was sitting at my cubicle, and all of the sudden I look up and leaning on the top of the partitian dividing the cubes was this dark and very handsome fella, whom I assumed was standing on a chair, as the top of the divider came up to his mid chest. I stood up, and he came around the corner, and lo and behold he was not standing on a chair, but his own two VERY long legs...my husband is 6 foot 9 inches tall. Since we started dating, shortly after that encounter, I have seen him been asked hundreds of times "Whoa, how tall are you?" It happens every time we go out it feels like. There was even one time where some guy sitting at a bar stopped him as we passed and said "Put up your hand - I want to see how big it is!" Yes, we thought that was odd too!

Practicing her catwalk for
Fashion Week '27

When I was growing up I was always one of the tallest girls in my class. By the time I was in 7th grade I was basically the height I am now,  5 foot 9 inches tall. All of my girlfriends were small and petite, which was apparently what all the boys liked too. I grew to love my height (pun intended) as I got older, especially after meeting my husband, and have racked up quite a 4 inch plus heel collection. When we go out, we definitely get looks as we tower above most around us.

It was a given that any child we had would be tall. If you use a standard height predictor formula for girls (subtract five inches from Dad's height and average that number with Mom's height) M will be about 6 foot .5 inch tall when she is fully grown. And that height will definitely come in handy when she is at Wimbledon at age 18, defending her championship title from the year before...of course.

I thought it would be later in her little life that people would comment about her height though, but damn was I wrong. Not a day has gone by in the last week where we weren't asked her age, and after saying 21 months we get the "Wow, is she tall!" response. Every time we are out and about it seems that someone comments on her height. To me she is totally normal, but then when she is sitting next to a 3 year old at the little play table in Baby Gap and the mother says "Look Charlotte, another girl your age! When is her third birthday?" and I have to explain to the mother that she hasn't even turned two yet...I realize that we are in this for the long haul.

A few weeks ago at Costco an older woman commented on how cute M was, and then said "I have a grandchild her age, about 3 1/2?" And I responded with "Ha, no," and then the woman said "oh she is already 4!" and again i chuckled and said that she wasn't even 21 months yet...the woman audibly gasped and said she has never seen a child that tall at that age. Obviously she hasn't been around toddler much because it isn't like M is a foot taller than everyone else! She is about 35 inches now, but I think her big curly hair tends to throw people off, as it makes her look a tad taller.

But if all the books I have read are correct, she will most likely be over 6 feet tall when she is fully grown. I thank the powers that be for giving her daddy's long lean figure, and not my "athletic" build (which is now more of a saggy floppy bag of cottage cheese build), so there are chances of lucrative modeling/professional athlete careers in her future. We already have a tennis racquet waiting for her in closet! A parent can dream...

Stranger Anxiety: Men Need Not Apply

My daughter never cries, unless she is hurt. She never whines, unless she is tired. So I know when she does either of these two things, she either has a boo boo or it is time for bed. But lately we have a new reason to cry...when a strange (mostly older) man talks to her.

No telling what would happen
if we ran into Larry

It started two months ago at my parents club: my father was walking her around the clubhouse, and the bartender (mid 60s, tall, balding, gray hair) was standing there waving and talking to M. The minute she laid eyes on him she lost it. As soon as he was out of her line of site, she was fine. The next time we visited them, the same thing happened...she sees the bartender she runs for cover.

She is deathly afraid of my dad's best friend and buries her head in my neck and cries when she sees him (early 60s, gray hair). And when introduced to any of my parent's other male friends she does the same thing.

At our 18 month appointment, our doctor walks into the room (late 40s, gray hair, glasses) and she loses her shit. She has never cried at a doctors appointment before (well, where she wasn't getting a tube put up her nose and down her throat) and she was inconsolable.

Yesterday at Whole Foods she was singing and clapping, and then the check out guy (this time 30s, dark hair) looked at her and said hello and she went ballistic! I took her out of her stroller as she was wailing and sobbing, and as soon as I turned her around so she didn't see this guy, she calmed down. He says something again, and she turns around to see him and loses it again! As soon as we headed out to the car she was calm and back to normal.

When this happens I feel so terrible for the person that it is directed towards, especially if it is someone that is a personal acquaintance. I find that I am apologizing over and over, and saying things like "oh she never cries! Something must be wrong!"My first instinct is to remove M from the situation as soon as possible, but that isn't always the easiest thing to do, especially if it is someone that works where you spend a lot of time!

I did some research, and actually talked to my doctor about this at that aforementioned appointment, and he said it is extremely common for toddlers to develop stranger anxiety around 18 months of age. Apparently anxiety is not only normal, but it is part of a toddlers cognitive and emotional development. There isn't much you can do about it, as they will eventually grow out of it. You just have to soothe your child, and reassure the poor target of this anxiety that they have done nothing wrong. It also tends to be common towards grandparents, which thank God M can't get enough of my father.

I am worried though that when we go to my father-in-law's (70, gray hair, balding, glasses) house this weekend it might be a different story. Sorry Grandpa!!

Has this happened with anyone else's kids?

Private Parts

Over the last couple weeks I have found M on occasion with her hand down her pants. She will either be trying to take off her diaper or just checking to make sure her "parts" are all there. When we change her diaper, as soon as she sans diaper, her hands go to her lady land. I tell her to stop, but she keeps trying to touch stuff and laughs when I start to tell her not to. I tell her no, because usually there is poop that needs to be cleaned off and then it gets on her hands, and then chaos ensues. 

The other day my neighbor came over to give me some flowers from her garden...as I am talking to her, M is sitting behind me on the deck. I look back for a second at her, and she has both hands up her dress in her diaper. I was horrified, but a little relived when my neighbor said both he daughters used to do it too. She told me I just have to ignore it. So I have been trying to ignore it, but then she watched most of Toy Story 3 leaning against the couch with one hand down her pants.

It isn't all the time, but it is getting more and more frequent. I know she is just curious and just checking things out, which is totally cool with me, but when it happens in public I am totally embarrassed. Should I be doing something about it? And if yes, what? 

And all of this exploring has lead me to another conundrum...what do we call her private parts? Seems like such a silly question to be posing, but I am curious as to what everyone is telling their kids to call their "parts"? 

When I was little we had these horrific pig-Danish terms (as in my mom told me it was Danish, which is what my Grandmother is, but I later found out it was just made up words) for man and lady-lands. I absolutely refuse to use them with M, so I am trying to come up with new words...Hoo Ha? Pajengo? Kooka? Do I go with the technical va-jayjay? 

What are your words for private parts??

Important information about sunscreen

Mamas -
A friend of mine from high school, Chase Polan, has written a couple articles about the good and bad of sunscreen, and since it is 85 and oppressively humid outside I figured I would share her wise words with all of you.

First Article: http://cleancuisineandmore.com/organic-sunscreen-myth/
Second Article: http://cleancuisineandmore.com/best-sunscreens-2/

If these help me to look half as beautiful as she is I will get my monies worth :)

Smoke 'em if you got em - but not around my kid!

Yesterday a woman pushing a stroller crossed the street in front of my car at a stoplight. Immediately I noticed that she had a lit cigarette in her hand. What I didn't notice, until she was directly in front of my car, was the toddler walking next to the stroller, on the side of the hand in which she was holding the cigarette. And I was disgusted. She made no attempt to shield this poor kid from the burning butt she just HAD to have while walking with her kids. And when she exhaled she didn't even turn her head away from the kids but just blew it basically right on them. I wanted to roll down my window and scream at her but who am I to tell her what to do...

I was a smoker for about 2 years, and then a social smoker for about a year after that - that was 10 years ago. I will not lie and say I haven't smoked since...there have been some drunken nights where I enjoyed a butt or two, especially during the two very stressful years it took me to get pregnant. I will say I have not smoked at all since I gave birth to M in 2009, and actually find it rather disgusting nowadays (not saying I will NEVER smoke again of course :).

I don't have any friends that are smokers, and rarely ever come across anyone smoking these days, but when I do I try to avoid them at all cost because I can't stand the smell. And now that I am a mother, I don't want the smell of smoke or actual smoke anywhere around M if possible. This is especially hard as most of my husband's family smokes (more on this later).

We were walking in the park this morning, enjoying this glorious spring day and warm fresh air and all of the sudden I smell the smell of a cigarette and I am immediately caught off guard. Who goes to the Arboretum (this Harvard run nature sanctuary where we walk with the pooch every morning) at 7:30 AM and sits in this glorious setting with bird chirping, and lush landscape and flowers all around...and lights up?? With people jogging all around them? And babies in strollers? I gave this guy the stink eye like he has never seen before.

Yes, it is outside, and a public place, but it caught me so off guard and made me so angry!

As I mentioned, my husband's entire side of the family smokes (save a sister). His father, whom I love dearly, has smoked his entire life, and smells of smoke no matter what he does to hide it. His father's house reeks of cigarettes, no matter how much he tries to clean it in preparation for a visit. My husband, who has terrible asthma and is physically bothered tremendously by smoke (what does that say about him if I was a smoker when he met me! that is love - ha!) can barely breathe when we go for a visit. It has come to the point now that we actually have to stay in a hotel down the street so that he can be comfortable.

I actually have to strategically pack when we go, because the clothes I bring will be saturated by the smell of cigarettes for days, no matter how much I wash them. And this makes me dread bringing M to his house. Yes, they aren't smoking right in front of her, but they do smoke right outside, everyone smells of smoke and it gets to the point where M's hair smells of smoke, and her clothes - it just disgusts me. But I grin and bear it, because I love them all so much and don't get to see them often...I just wish they would all quit!

I feel like I am rambling on now - so I will get to the point....

Don't smoke. It stinks, makes you stink, and it kills you. And if you want to smoke, don't smoke around your kids.

That is all :)

Operation: Nasal Passage Freedom

M has had a very stuffy/runny nose for the last 48 hours. In that short time it has become a slight obsession of mine to make sure her nasal passages are as clear as possible so that she can be comfortable. As someone who has suffered from chronic sinusitis her entire life (sinus infections from when I was very young until now, sinus surgery, multiple sinus infections a year, etc.) I am familiar with the misery that comes along with nasal/sinus issues and pray that M does not have them to the extent I have them now. What she currently has is probably a little cold, but to me it is what I like to refer to as a Nose Frida snot sucking extravaganza.

(Did I make you just throw up in your mouth a little?)

My Nose Frida has become Chewbacca to my Han Solo...a trusty sidekick that makes a lot of noise and gets the job done. It has traveled with me in the pocket of whatever I am wearing to whatever room we are hanging out in at the house. It has even come with us to Costco, and today Bloomingdales (where I bought it a fancy case using my friends and family discount - kidding of course).

This weapon of mass snot destruction is a lifesaver when your kid has a runny nose. One of my pet peeves is seeing a child with snot running down his nose and mothers not doing anything about it. Help your poor kid out! They can't blow, but you can suck (ok I am taking this too far now, but having so much fun!). Do not fear the Nose Frida. Your kid might struggle during the first couple uses, but soon they will be like M, who will actually hold the device in place in anticipation of sweet relief.

I also can't live without my Boogie Wipes. If I am unable to Nose Frida poor M, I always have Boogie Wipes handy to wipe away the boogs, as we call them in our house. M won't let me near her nose with tissues, as they are too rough, but the Boogie Wipes are nice and moist and also have saline in them to help clear her nasal passages.

Also a little "Little Noses" Saline helps to loosen up the trapped boogs (only really use this in the morning and before bed to make her most comfortable) before you use the Nose Frida.

I am telling you...the Nose Frida/Boogie Wipe combo is a must have for all Mamas out there. One thing I can guarantee is that my kid will not have a snotty runny nose when you see her, and if she does I will NOT be offended if you wipe it for her!

Watch out Mamas - I am coming for your kids noses!!

Tired Mama, It Could Be More Than Just Late Nights Wih Baby

After having my last baby, I was at the point where I was feeling tired all the time. I had chalked it up to being up with the baby and not getting much sleep. As he got older, 6 months, I would barely be able to keep my eyes open and my hair was starting to fall out faster than normal. I had asked my doctor about this and he had said this could all be from breastfeeding and my body changing from giving birth. I had to continue to fight through the overwhelming urge to sleep.

Almost a year later, baby now 1 1/2, I finally went to my family doctor and demanded some type of testing be done.

Finally, even though it was not what I wanted to hear, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. At least there was now an answer to my exhaustion and laziness!! I am finally starting to feel like my old self again and beginning to exercise and do more active things with my kids.

The point of this short story is that as new mothers, a doctor will contribute a lot of other signs to an "after pregnancy" symptom. Please be persistent. I am so glad I finally had enough and demanded some more tests. I knew I couldn't just be tired and lazy. There had to be something else. I am not at the point where my medicine is working completely, but in a few short weeks of starting hormone therapy, I am on my way to being better.

Let the Point Counting Begin...Again!!!

As one of my New Year's resolutions I have decided to take better care of things in my life. Take better care of my house by keeping it cleaner and neater than usual. Take better care of our finances by keeping better track of our spending, and spending less in general. And most importantly taking better care of my body, which I haven't done in a long time now.

So last week I decided to start back on Weight Watchers. After months of binge eating and working out only once or twice a week, I got to the point that when I would look in the mirror and was disgusted by what I saw. One would think that that fact alone would prompt me to do something about it, but I kept eating, and kept making excuses about going to the gym.

Skinny (and braless) Mama J in 2004, with a DJ
I was convinced was Justin Timberlake
(the celeb love of my life) and my BFF. 

It wasn't until I was packing for Florida and I came across a photo (not photo on right, but I thought that one was priceless) of myself from a holiday party at my old office from 2004, that I really decided something needed to be done. I know exactly what I weighed then, as it was the skinniest I have ever been in my adult life...and it was 40 pounds lighter than I am now. I had a jawline! I didn't have to suck it in! My belly didn't jiggle! I wore belts! I was sitting on the floor of my closet with Marlo looking at the photo and I said "look baby, this is skinny Mommy. It looks like a different person right?" And the more I looked at this photo of this gorgeous skinny girl, in a size 10 jeans and Medium shirt with a slight hint of a flat tummy peaking out, the sadder I got, until the tears came and what I was looking at made me want to throw up.

Of course I then went to Florida where my mom, as usual, had stocked up on our favorite junk foods, and we were eating things out of gift baskets for a week. But on the 30th of December my body started to revolt. I got a stomach thing and was throwing up, and had the runs (I know gross but it happens to everyone!) for 24 hours. You know what it was? It was my body telling me "THAT IS ENOUGH FATTY!" It wasn't food poisoning, it wasn't a virus, it was my body revolting and giving me a sign that I have been abusing it for too long. And what a way to kick start a diet too :).

So now it has been 7 days of officially counting points again. And thus the 5th time in the last 7 years I have started on Weight Watchers. The first time was in 2003 and I lost 35 pounds, and when I started I was the heaviest I had ever been...until this time of course. And at the end I was that skinny girl you see in the photo above...but I realize that I will never be that skinny girl again. At that point in my life I was living with my girlfriends, going to dance class twice a week (one class was 4 hours long), working out before work every day, and worried about what my then-boyfriend thought about the way I looked. Now I take care of a 13 month old, am home in my house most of the day (surrounded by food), have a husband who loves me no matter what I look like, and basically live in "lounge wear" all day long.

The Family That Plays Together, Pukes Together

As you all know, I was going out of my mind with the party planning as of last week. For 4 weeks straight I was thinking of nothing else but our Holiday/Marlo's birthday party. My parents had both flown up from Florida to help with the preparations last week, my brother came up from NYC, and as of Thursday everything was going pretty smoothly...until what I like to call "the big puke of '10" occurred.

Pukey McGee on her first birthday

Marlo was fussy around bedtime, but eventually put herself to sleep as she always does, but then at 9 PM she was screaming so I rushed into her bedroom to find her covered in vomit. Not only was she covered, but her crib was covered in this horrible smelling (thanks milk!) throw-up that seemed to have remnants of every meal she ate throughout the day. I yelled for my mom (thankfully she was there as hubby was working late as usual) and she came in to find me now covered in throw up (round two), with a screaming shaking baby in my arms.

We got ourselves cleaned up and both changed into clean clothes and the three of us laid in my bed, when rounds three and four occurred. Sheets were changed, towels were washed and Marlo was in her 5th (no joke) pair of pajamas for the night. She finally fell back to sleep around 10:30; horizontally between my husband and I in our bed. Not a good night sleep for anyone.

And that was the beginning of a second terrible stomach virus for Marlo...we thought we were in the clear when she finally stopped throwing up Friday night, but when it began again Saturday morning, we decided to pull the plug on the big fiesta that I had planned so long and hard for. And that is when my Mom got sick...and then later that day, I got sick...and then in the middle of the night, my husband got sick. We joke now that if we did go through with the party, it would have been like that horrible scene in Stand By Me where everyone throws up on each other.

For 5 straight days we battled with the throwing up, until this morning we finally saw the light. Marlo seems to be back in action with an appetite to match. Thankfully this bout with the stomach virus didn't land us in the hospital because despite not keeping anything down, she managed to stay hydrated. Thanks to lots of Pepto, Pedialyte, Ginger Ale and toast we are all finally back to normal.

Unfortunately I can't say the same for a dear friend that stopped by on Saturday to say hello! Whoops!

Our first trip to the Emergency Room

my dehydrated peanut

Yesterday Marlo contracted a bad stomach virus. It began with Exorcist-like vomiting at 10 AM, a 3+ hour nap, followed by more vomiting...and more vomiting...and finally more vomiting, until there was nothing left to throw up and she was dry heaving. She hadn't had a wet diaper in over 6 hours, so our doctor told us to get to the hospital ASAP as she was dehydrated.

I frantically ran around the house with her little limp body in my arms, gathering what items I thought we might need, and changed her (and me) for the 10th time that day into her pajamas. I called my husband, told him to meet us there, strapped her little green hued body into the car and we were off. I tried my best not to drive like a maniac as she slept in the back seat (which made me think twice about all the crazy drivers out there - were they trying to get to a hospital with their sick child in the backseat too? Probably not...but maybe!). Thankfully it was rush hour (in the opposite direction) so it only took 20 minutes to get to Children's Hospital Boston from West Roxbury (a drive that at any other time might take 40 minutes - I do have to point out that it is not easy to get to the hospital district if you have an emergency by any means...always traffic, too many lights...but I digress).

I valeted, and ran into registration. As soon as I sat down Marlo puked all over me, herself, the floor - which was kind of our saving grace as we were attended to right away. Within 20 minutes we were back in a room and she was seen by a nurse practitioner.

I don't need to bore you with all the details of our 6 hours stay but I will tell you the worst part was the whole IV issue. She had had one a few months back, but it was administered when she was under so she didn't know what was going on. This time, she was fully conscious, and it took 3 nurses 30 minutes to find a vein and insert it. We had to hold her down while she screamed and writhed in agony. And taking it out was another story!! No one likes to see blood gushing from their infants arm, but the nurses didn't seem to think twice about it.

After the fluids were administered, her color returned and she seemed to be in much better spirits. Today we are on Pedialyte, and are staying away from solid foods and dairy until tomorrow.

The point of this post is to let you moms know what to look for when it comes to dehydration. If your child is spitting up, and has diarrhea, chances are they have a stomach bug (obviously) but what you really need to look for is the wet diapers. If they haven't had a wet diaper in 6-7 hours, your child is dehydrated (so says my pediatricians office). Call your doctors first - but chances are your kids will need some IV hydration.

In the end she handled it all very well, and we got our first trip to the ER over with, but no parent likes to deal with these things. As my Mom pointed out, Marlo has had two IVs before the age of one and most people don't have that many in their life! Hopefully this will be our last sickness for a long time...

Mamas should get sick days

Last night at around 6 PM, I was hit with a cold like a ton of bricks. I immediately felt exhausted, it started to hurt when I swallowed, my head was pounding and my nose stuffed up in a minute. I ran for the medicine cabinet and took the last of the Tylenol Sinus/Cold that we had and prayed that it would kick in soon. I told my husband how I was feeling, and he said what he usually says, "think it away." This seems to work for him practically every time he has a cold...me not so much. I am a total baby when I get sick, and this time is like every other.


But the problem is that I don't so much have a boss to call in sick to, or someone to tag in to help me. My husband left today for New York City for the next 3 days, I don't have any family in the state, let alone this part of the US, and my friends all have work or their own children to attend to. I just recently lined up a babysitter for date nights, but I am not sick enough to pull the trigger on that just yet.

The last thing you want to do when you can't breathe out your nose, and your sinuses are causing your head to throb, is play with an infant - who by the way is on a screaming for the fun of it kick. Don't get me wrong, I usually love play time, but Mama can only build so many houses (just to have them knocked down of course), stack so many cups (see previous), listen to the many beeps and yelps and tweaks and blips that all those annoying toys make, before she wants to scream.

The point of this whiny post is just to say that I think all Mamas should get sick days. We work hard, if not harder, than most working people out there. Who would give us these sick days? I have no clue...our husbands or partners? Our own mothers? Babysitters? Whomever - we should just be able to cash them in when we see fit. A Mama can dream!!

Off to take more meds and shoot some more Afrin up my nose!