Silicon Valley Moms Blog

My Pre-Mother's Day Anxiety Attack

I'm sitting here not knowing what to do and almost literally wringing my hands.  (Big breaths, big breaths)  No, tiny droplets of glistening water are not forming above my upper lip and around my hairline because I live in Florida and it's 85 degrees with 110% humidity.  And no, it's not because I forgot to pay the Comcast bill and I'm afraid that my DVR will be cut off from recording this week's American Idol shows (besides, I've forgotten to pay before and the only thing that happens is that I get double the bill the next month - no worries). 

Give up?  Okay, I'll tell you.  It's because apparently Mother's Day has visited our household a week early and I was not prepared for it.  Well, I know it's not officially Mother's Day at the Go-Go Mommy household because I didn't get breakfast in bed (which was my request for this year) and I didn't get any homemade cards from Poppy and Sweet Pea.  But it feels like Mother's Day because this morning KB put all the dirty dishes into the dishwasher (and there was a pile from last night that I just didn't get to) and took the girls to the park so I could "have some alone time."

Burger, fries and please hold the make-out session.

Okay, now I'm about to sound old, I mean really old.  And I'm not sure how that happens when one has always considered oneself to be young, hip, and cool.  (Hey, if you're going to fantasize, why not go for it?!)  But today I nearly lost it.  And what brought me to the conclusion that I may, in actuality be old, square, and (gasp) prudish?  A major PDA or "Public Display of Affection". 

Now, I usually have no problem with PDAs.  Like I said, I've always been the "understanding one" who politely looks away when the heat of the moment may overtake a couple who become lost in a stolen kiss, or a discreet little pat or touch that ends up being not so discreet.  But maybe all that was before I had kids, girls to be exact.  Or maybe I've just always subscribed to an unwritten "time and place" rule that just made itself known to me today.  Either way, today made me look at PDAs from a new level of awareness.

The Essential Summer Trunk

I've read about those moms who have an immaculate car with much envy.  While I've wished that disease way of life for myself, I've never been blessed enough to actually live it.  Instead, I'm the mom who finds Cherrios, raisins, and dried cranberries (my girls favorite snacks) in every corner and crevice of my vehicle, and at just about every stop that I make. 

I'm also the type of mom that takes everything along wherever I am going "just in case"...first aid kit under my driver seat; swim bag packed with suits, towels, sunscreen, goggles and toys; travel wine gear under the front passenger seat complete with cheeseboard, cheese knife, corkscrew, and cloth napkins for those Silicon Valley wine emergencies (which, I kid you not, I did have when Poppy attended daycare while I was still climbing the corporate ladder.  I helped to avoid a "preschool graduation fiasco" when it was discovered there was no corkscrew for the 5 bottles of wine waiting for the parents - Go-Go Mommy to the rescue!).  I could go on and on about the number of items in my car but you get the picture.

The Omnipotent Blogger

Is it just me or does everyone else seem to have an extra 3 hours in their day? Everywhere I look lately, I see fellow mommy bloggers who seem to appear everywhere several times a day: daily (or almost daily) blogging, on Facebook, opening Twitter accounts, blogging at important events, organizing life-saving drives, and even sharing recipes/menues on a weekly basis.

It makes me wonder - what the hell am I doing with all the time I have?! I know I must have some time in my day that I'm not using properly because I'm not on Facebook or on Twitter and I still feel lucky just to get through my day with Poppy and Sweet Pea and still be semi-coherent enough to put a few thoughts down into a single post at the end of it.

Here we go again!

If there's one topic that every mother out there can write about it's this one: mommy guilt. Whether you work outside of the house, stay at home, or participate in any combination thereof, it's something that is unavoidable. Granted that "guilty" feeling may stay away for a while and lull us moms into a false sense of security, but soon enough it rears its ugly head and there we are, staring at the elephant in the room.

"Am I doing the best I can do for my child? Am I spending enough time with her? Should I be spending more quantity time or more quality time? Are those mutually exclusive? Should I be staying at home with my daughters or is it better for me to work and give them a chance to socialize with other kids? If I stay at home do they get enough socialization at playdates and organized activities? Should I breastfeed? How will I continue to breastfeed if I go back to work? Am I a bad mother if I can't/don't want to breastfeed?...."

Banana peels and other ways to lose "cool points"

All families have a favorite past time.  One that usually tops the list in any family is telling "Remember when..." stories.  These are stories of stupid funny things that people in the family have done over the years.  Of course, as a child, we especially love to remember and laugh at the times when mom (or dad) are the brunt of the joke and believe me, I've had my fair share of teasing my mom. 

To this day I will never forget when Mom, Dad, and I were in the car and my father was driving through Mt. Clemens where the main road splits in the heart of downtown making two "one way" thouroughfares around  the town.   I can still hear mom's lovely voice as she asked my father "Daddy (after 10 kids they fell into the "mommy/daddy" habit), are we on this side of Mt. Clemens?"  Of course my father couldn't resist; "No, we're on that side."

Or the time when I was looking at a beautiful photo of my mother (who is also from a very large family) with her three sisters taken sometime around the late 40s, early 50s.  They all had the 1940's "jitterbug-

Sure honey, you can ride in the front seat

"Ski weekend" is here and with it, came memories of family vacations back when I was a little girl.  (Just a footnote: This weekend is known as "ski weekend" here in Silicon Valley because it's the time of year when school-aged children are granted a 4 day weekend to celebrate the birth of our first President, George Washington, by learning more about American history and our founding father have a Friday and Monday off so the family can go on a quick trip up to Tahoe.)

As the youngest child in a very large, very loud family, I remember piling into our 1972ish "True Blue Metallic" Plymouth Fury Wagon to go on an annual two week trip "up north."  And when I say "pile", I mean literally "pile" since there was mom, dad, plus 10 kids and luggage crammed into that lovely blue stationwagon.  In fact, I clearly recall the instantaneous chorus of "I get mom's lap" as the preferred place to sit.  This was true for several reasons: in the front seat you get the full, unobstructed view of the road, and it comes with the bonus of mom's undivided attention (which you can guess almost never happened otherwise), and you are away from the "peasants" crammed like commoners in "coach seating" where the noise and smells could be overwhelming. 

Okay Sistahs, It's Time for XLII!

I realize that I'm probably in the minority when it comes to this Sunday - I'm one of those women who actually looks forward to the Superbowl each year. And no, it's not just for the advertisements (although that is a plus). And no, it's not to sit and wait in anticipation of the half-time show. It's just something that is a part of me. Perhaps I have my childhood to thank for my love of the game. After all, growing up with six brothers meant that sports was just a part of life.

So many good memories were made during football season. Wanting to be like my big brothers, I would hang-out with them watching various college and professional football games, always rooting for the "best dressed" or most vividly colored uniform. (I am convinced that is where my fascination began with The University of Michigan and my driving force for making that my school of choice when I was a mere 8 years old. Who can resist the ever-recognizable maize and blue uniforms?) Then, during half-time, we would race outside to play our own game of football - one of my brothers would always bring the play down to my level when we were in the huddle. For example, he would draw my "route" on his chest while explaining; "Okay, JB, you run to the firehydrant, then turn left 5 steps and cut back to the tree." Oh, the endless variations of the "front yard playbook."

Confessions of a (Dis)Organized Cleaner

I am the person who loves making lists.  I am the person who gets so excited about school supplies - even though it's been a few years (ahem) since I have been in school - that I still saunter down store aisles in the fall, inhale the smell of paper, and check out the latest binders, pens, etc. and treat myself to something new.  I am the person who gravitates to stationary stores and specialty paper displays, looking for that new journel or calendar that is calling my name. (And yes, I tried all the electronic gizmos but there is just something so homey about having books filled with my print and notes of my life - ironic since I'm now a blog addict!)

I guess that's why I found my special "cleaning" skills lie not in doing the actual cleaning around the house.  Rather, I'm the person who is among the ranks of many brilliant moms who clean before the cleaning people come to the house!  When I look around at what I have to do before tomorrow, it could, admittedly, get a bit overwhelming but I've decided that this is simply the way I work.  Maybe because I now approach it armed with a "to do" list:

Have Props, Will Travel

I recently received an email asking for travel tips from someone who is going on "flight travel of 23+ hours with an infant and two year old."  After I gave my blessings and told them they should be nominated for Parent of the Year, I began to think of my airline trips with Poppy and Sweet Pea. 

So far I've traveled alone with them twice.  The first time was when Poppy was 3 years and Sweet Pea was 6 months.  Our second trip was about 5 months later (3.5 years and almost 1 year).  I was feeling "experienced" enough to take the "red-eye" from California out to the midwest for the second trip.  So, while I haven't spent "23+" hours of flight travel time (and by the way, I'm DYING to know where my friend is traveling "to" and "from"), I have traveled at all times of the day/night and have survived to tell about it.

Here are some of my "helpful hints".