Our Mommyhood

Archive for September, 2010

By Sarah, Guest Writer, Miss CapaTosta

There is something I find absolutely obnoxious about the way mothers refer to their childrens’ ages in weeks and months when it is not logically appropriate to those who do not have children.  You know the conversation; it goes something like this:

You remark: “What a precious little girl!  How old is she?”

New Mom exclaims: “She’ll be 15 weeks on Monday.”

I think: What?  I’m not going to do that math.  Just tell me how old your kid is.  I don’t really care how many weeks your child has been out of your womb.  I was trying to make small talk; why do you have to make this difficult?

Why can’t New Mom say, “She’s 3 months old”?

Or even better…

You remark: “Wow, your little boy has a lot of energy!  How old is he?”

New Mom states:  “He just turned 21 months old last Thursday.”

I think:  Huh?  Why can’t new mom say, “He’s almost two”?

Yes, I get it.  Doctors refer to ages in weeks and then months for an incredibly long period of time—I guess it starts with the whole, “I’m 26 weeks pregnant thing.”, but come on.  Give it up!  Your kid is months old now—stop referring to her age in weeks.  And after his first birthday, you can give up the months and stick with years!

I know I have some bizarre pet peeves, but does this irritate anyone else or am I just exceptionally touchy?

By Lindsay, Guest Writer, Happy Housewife Designs (@lindsayintx)

I have been asked a lot lately about making a “grab my button” box for your blogs.

First, you will need the button (How you choose to make one is up to you).

Don’t be overwhelmed by the HTML code because it is really easy to change and add to your sidebar.

So first… what is a “grab my button box”?

It is the scrolling box that sits under your button. This allows people to copy your code to add your button to their blog, and takes those who click on it back to your blog.  Having your button on others’ blogs is a great way to help get your blog out there for people to see.

So now you want to know how to make one?

First, upload your button’s image to Photobucket (This is my favorite program to use). You will need the code from this in the next couple steps.

Next, go to your Blogger dashboard and click on an “add a gadget”element.

Then, click the HTML option.

Now you have to copy and paste this code into the box below the title:

What you need to change:

Light Blue –> to the site your button needs to be linked to (i.e. your blog)
Green –> to the name of your blog
Pink –> to the “direct link” code from Photobucket

Then you should be able to save and have a scroll box under your button.

See that wasn’t so hard, was it?

If you’re having problems, try this:

- make sure you have changed all the info for the grab button to your info
- make sure you didn’t delete or add any ” marks in the code

Enjoy and happy blogging!

By Megan M., Contributor, All A Bunch Of Momsense (@taxmegan)

I’m a reader. I’ll read about anything with text on it. There are books scattered through my house, and usually I’m working my way through two or three of them at a time.

My books are my escape. When I have downtime – after the kids are in bed, or times when it’s daddy’s turn – I fall between the pages and read. I curl up on a sun-warmed couch, or lounge in a bathtub, or nestle amongst the pillows on my bed, and let the writer weave images with their words. Sometimes, I’m in a castle with wizards, seeking answers. Other times, I’m watching two people find love on a ranch. Currently, I’m hanging with a saucy bounty hunter in Jersey.

When my children were small, I read to them. As they’ve grown, we’ve changed our roles. As each of my children worked their way through the sounding out of consonants and vowels, they’ve done much of it aloud, excited to share the stories with me. They would read to each other, to their dad, to their stuffed animals.

Today, my kids are strong readers – my boys both read well above grade level, and my daughter, who just started first grade, exploded this summer. We didn’t pass a sign, poster, book cover, or magazine that she didn’t sound out. Going to the grocery store was a particular treat. That’s a LOT of packaging in one place! My van has books tucked in every seat pocket, and I have to limit the number of books they check out when we go to the public library.

I’m grateful that I have a “guilty pleasure” that is not really guilt-inducing. That this thing that I truly enjoy is worth sharing with my children, and that I can be glad they have a love for it as well.

What about you? What is your escape, your guilty pleasure, and is it one that you can eventually share with your children? Is it something you already do together?

By: Leigh, Guest Writer, Jersey Diva Mom (@jerseydivamom)

While I’m an adoptive mom and would gladly extol its virtues, I wouldn’t say I’m expert material; a passing glance at my blog would call key parenting skills into question. So while “expert” is beyond reach, “adoptive mom who lost it a couple of times on strangers” is pretty accurate.

“What is there to lose it about after adopting?” you rightfully ask. Well, apart from all the lovely stressors parenting brings, there are some comments you field that are unique to your situation; sometimes they just get rub you the wrong way. I really don’t think people mean any harm; they just don’t think or realize. My plan here isn’t to make you feel uncomfortable, but rather to help you see some things through the eyes of an adoptive parent. One less foot in a mouth… that’s what I’m all about here.

Loving Them as much as Children by Birth
My husband had two daughters when we married. I asked him repeatedly if he’d feel differently about his new sons vs. his daughters. After weeks of denial, he cracked. “Of course I’ll have a different relationship with them!” That saddened me, until he quickly clarified, “I was in my 30’s & 40’s for the girls but will be in my 50’s & 60’s for the boys. I don’t have the same career demands now. I probably won’t need to sit by a Barbie playhouse much.” It was really that simple to him; a question of lifestyle and gender play preferences. When I hear people talk about different feelings toward adopted kids, I go back to him since he’s poised to know the truth. He doesn’t get people who can’t believe you feel the same toward an adoptive child as one by birth. He’s really baffled by men’s reactions, “It’s not like you’d be breastfeeding yourself.” They’re just “his kids,” and by “they” I mean all four, all viewed the same way.

We clean up after kids who get the flu at 2:00am. We cry when we open hand drawn Mother’s Day cards. We stare at our sleeping kids, awed by their beauty, and befuddled that they can look so angelic in sleep while being so devilish when awake. We leave the house at 6:00am to schlep to gymnastics meets 100 miles away. Yep, we’re absolute idiots for our kids, too.

“Real” Kids
This was the phrase that put me over the edge on several occasions. I finally gave up, sarcasm taking over. To the woman in McDonald’s, the mom at my son’s preschool, the family friend at a party, and anyone else my flip tone offended at the time, “I’m kinda sorta sorry.” Eventually to comments such as, “They look just like your real kids,” I replied:

“He’s not got strings, to hold him down.”
“And yet, faux really is more humane.”
“We decided real was best since the holograms were too expensive.”
“Nope, he’s real. I lost the Nerf one years ago. The hubs was so pissed.”
“Madame Tussaud’s mail order – what can’t they do?!”
“Yeah, but the replacement parts are a bitch to find.”

When you become a parent, God gives you the kids you’re meant to have. Everyone in our family believes this. My stepdaughters have repeatedly said it to me. Physical similarities, personality traits, talents, crazy flash temper (huh? who said that?)… my sons share some of these with me, and I love it. But it’s not what makes them “real” to me; love alone does that.

“Bet You’re Happy You Missed That!”
This usually refers to morning sickness, swollen ankles, insomnia and labor pain. The paper pregnancy has its own set of challenges, though. There are things adoptive moms go through that can tear you down emotionally as well as physically. For starters, births have a due date. You knew, much like a road construction warning, that “on or about January 10…” you would be a parent. In the majority of cases, adoption has no due date. Even when couples are working with a birthmother there are legal milestones of equal significance or an undying fear that minds could be changed.

When you give birth, there’s no real fear the baby’s going to change his mind. Adoption brings all kinds of chances for uncertainty until final court approval. Don’t get me wrong – I’m ok with skipping some of the less than fun pregnancy highlights. Anxiety and doubt, though, can torment your stomach and sleep for months on end. Trust me, in the long run the roller coasters of birth and adoption even out to a dead heat. One other snag I’ll mention that can hurt feelings is the issue that many women who have adopted REALLY wanted those experiences you’re joking about. You never know so least said best said sometimes.

“They’re so Lucky to have You”
No. Not really. I feel very blessed that I was approved by the caretakers, judge, Russian Education Ministry, and above all, God, to be their mom. But no one walks around thinking, “WOW are my kids suuuuuuuper lucky that I’m their mom! I mean, I am FABULOUS” Whether you gave birth or adopted, you simply don’t think in those terms. Ok, maybe you do. No really, you don’t. I hope.

And while I’m on a Roll
The last little tidbit I have is something I wish I could scream at every reporter everywhere. I don’t walk around calling my sons my “adopted sons.” They’re just “sons.” Did you ever notice that in a story about any celeb who’s adopted, the kids are always labeled? Read an article about the Jolie-Pitts, Sandra Bullock, Sheryl Crowe, etc and their children are labeled when adopted. Curiously, the genetic Jolie-Pitts are not labeled. They are simply their kids. All of them are “their kids.” Period. If you happen to be a journalist, please keep that in mind. If you know one, please share this. Feel free to message People.com stories. Lord knows I do.

At the end of the day, however they ended up in our arms they are our children. They imprinted in our hearts like the werewolves do in Twilight. God sent me to them and them to me, not via a stork, but via Boeing. The humorist Art Buchwald was a parent via adoption. He once said, “You’ll know they’re your kids when you want to kill them.” On any given day, laundry, noise and bickering floating through my home, I’m with him. I love them more than life itself, yet want to murder them in frustration at times. So you see we are all the same. We are moms.

By Liz, Editor, a belle, a bean & a chicago dog (@bellebeandog)

We covered a lot of ground with this past week’s posts.

*Amanda, a guest writer, started off our week sharing her experience about weight gain during pregnancy.  She was very candid about her feelings towards the scale and surviving weigh-ins at her OB appointments.

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*Betsy, our editor, swore that The Ninja  is a must for any mom who makes her own baby food.

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*Signe Whitson, a guest writer and social worker, discussed passive-aggressive behavior and your spouse.  She gave 4 commons passive-aggressive phrases and explained their meaning.

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*Michaela, a contributor, explained why she encouraged her husband to get back to his old hobby of playing World of Warcraft, and how it has helped her.

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*Brook, a contributor, listed 10 ways to be eco-chic.  Who knew that living green could be so easy?

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*Dana, a guest writer, gave a very honest yet uplifting look at life as a mom.  Even though not every day is a picture of perfection, we need to share our lives with one another.  It really does take a village.

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Thanks to all of you for reading, following along and commenting in Our Mommyhood – where motherhood meets bloghood.