Silicon Valley Moms Blog

How IKEA Saved My Sanity

I took my three children to IKEA in EastPalo Alto today.  Not because I needed inexpensive housewares.  Not because I needed a couch for our living room that I won't mind too much when my kids use it as a napkin.  Not because we need a new dresser that you need to understand Swedish in order to put together in under five hours.  Not because I needed new place mats, vases, picture frames, bath rugs or pillows.  Not even because I was craving the Swedish meatballs that remind me of my childhood.  No, not for any of those reasons.

I took my three children to IKEA because I needed an hour of free child care and one dollar ice cream cones.  

This was the first week of summer vacation and we had no camps scheduled.  Heck, we didn't even have any play dates scheduled.  It's been a while since I have had all three at home with me all day long for five days straight.  I'm a bit rusty at the mothering without a break gig, but I had a plan.  I was looking forward to a week with no commitments, no rushing to get to school, no homework to complete.  We'd get up and have a leisurely breakfast.  After breakfast I'd go for a quick run on the treadmill and shower.  Then we'd go on some kind of adventure, come home in time for my son to nap while the older two read books.  In the late afternoon, the kids would ride bikes in the cul-de-sac or play in the yard while I cooked dinner.    Sounds great right?

Soccer and Ballet and Swim, Oh My!

• Music
• Gymnastics
• Mommy and Me Fitness
• Ballet
• Tap
• Toddler classes at the SF Zoo
• Tennis
• Piano
• Soccer
• Swimming lessons
• Art lessons
• Library story hour
• Tutoring

These are all the activities I've had my kids involved in at one time or another over the past six years.  In the very beginning the music classes and the fitness classes were more for me.  I needed an activity to get us out of the house.  I was the one who needed to socialize with people my own age.  I was the one who needed something to break up our day of bottles, naps, crying and more bottles, naps and crying.  

Confessions of a Mini-Van Mom

Yesterday morning I woke up to my twin girls asking me if we could go get smoothies and bagels for breakfast. It was 6:30am. Even though I was freezing and groggy I said yes. It's one less meal I have to cook and clean up, and I was in the mood for a bagel. So I threw on some sweats and off we went. 

As we were heading back to the car with our breakfast, I noticed I had left the side sliding door of mini-van open. It's the third time I've done that in the four years we've had the car. I was parked in front of a fancy gym and there was a man getting into his fancy car next to me with his newspaper and his gym bag. I could tell exactly what he was thinking as he waited for me to pile my kids into the van so he could have better access to his car. "Another distracted mom with a gaggle of kids and a mini-van."

I get these looks often when I am out and about in my mini-van. 

Dear Husband,

Can you please stop with the damn eat your food tirades at the kids at meal time.  We offer them healthy food for the most part and forcing them to clean their plate just makes everyone miserable. They are not going to starve themselves. I promise. They will eventually like vegetables if we keep just putting it in front of them and talking about how yummy they are. You are making family dinner no fun at all for our Silicon Valley family.

Public Education in California

When I was a kid I started kindergarten in the state of Michigan.   Family circumstances brought us back to California when I was in the middle of 2nd grade.  My newly widowed mother spent all her savings to buy a house in San Carlos because the schools were some of the best in the area.  I remember listening to my mom talk on the phone about how disappointed she was in our new California school.  The day was one hour shorter, there was twice as much recess time, there was no librarian and the music program was pretty sparse.  And yet despite my mom's worries, I think I did just fine in the California public education system.  I had several high quality teachers through the years and I feel like I was well prepared for college.  I went to a private college and, I must say, I noticed the differences in services and facilities right from the start.  

Cut to 2004 when my twin girls were two years old and we were living in San Francisco. I started applying to preschools.  To say the experience was stressful would be an understatement.  There were interviews (for my husband and I as well as our two year olds), outrageous application fees and endless thank you notes... for preschool.  We applied to eight different schools and did not get into any of them.  My number one choice of schools had eight sets of twins apply that year.  It all worked out in the end.  After several phone calls and some begging I managed to get my girls into a fantastic, small in-home preschool that was clear on the other side of town.  

Candy Girl

When I was growing up, my mom was all about healthy eating.  Each meal had some representation from all the food groups.  The only beverage allowed was milk.  There were no Lucky Charms, Frosted Flakes, Doritos or Ruffles in our house.  Oh, how I coveted Cap'n Crunch or a tube of Pringles.  But my mom wasn't a complete health nut.  We were allowed to sprinkle sliced bananas with a little sugar, she put pretty crystalized sugar on orange slices and we were allowed ice cream and often made cookies together.  

But the absolute forbidden fruit was soda.  No way, no how were we allowed to drink any kind of soda.  We had to beg to be allowed to drink those fancy Capri Sun drinks when they were first introduced.  This rule did not apply to my mom and her beloved Tab Cola though.  She would put them in the freezer so they were slightly slushy and pour them into a tall glass over ice.  My sister and I were denied even a sip.  As you can probably imagine, the day I went away to college I stocked my little mini dorm fridge with Diet Pepsi.  Today I'm ashamed to say we often run out of milk before we run out of Diet Pepsi at my house. 

An Avery by Any Other Name

Do radio stations still do the top 100 songs of the year countdown on December 31st? I remember putting a blank tape in my stereo system and listening to the countdown on whatever was the radio station of the moment and rushing to press record if a song I liked came on the radio. This was before MP3s, iTunes or even CD players. And way before you could just look up the Top 100 list on the internet. My sister and I would sit together in one of our bedrooms and try to guess which song would be number one.

It's that time of year where everyone comes out with a "Top (insert whatever) of 2008" list. Top Movies of 2008. Best Dressed of 2008. Worst Dressed of 2008. Best Books of 2008. Best Web Sites of 2008 (The Norwindians didn't make the list... go figure). And then there is this one. The Top 50 Baby Names of 2008. I really shouldn't have looked at the list. I knew it would irk me. Scroll down and take a look at the number 15 most popular name for baby girls in 2008.

How I Learned to Love My In-Laws

I just got back from a four day trip to Disneyland.  I don't think I would have been able to survive it if we hadn't brought along my mother-in-law.  If you would have told me ten years ago that I would someday type that previous statement, I would have laughed at you and said "No way would I ever take a vacation with my mother-in-law."

To say I got off to a rocky start with my in-laws is a bit of an understatement. My husband is an East Indian from London whose parents had a traditional arranged marriage. I, on the other hand, am a white girl with Mid-Western parents, who had never even tasted Indian food. Let’s just say that I wasn’t exactly what they had in mind for their only son. For fear of their reaction my husband didn’t even tell them he had a girlfriend until after we had moved in together. Even after our relationship was out in the open and going on 4 years, they sent him a list of potential brides complete with bios and pictures. Once we got engaged, they realized I wasn’t just a phase. They made an effort to get to know me, but it’s accurate to say that things were still chilly between us.

Equal Value?

What is the value of a stay at home mom?  We've all heard the $150,000 number for if you had to hire a nanny, maid, driver, laundress, grocery shopper, butt wiper, calendar organizer, gift buyer, vacation planner, dish washer, story reader, stroller pusher, cook, etc., etc., etc.  Not to mention the emotional and physical price a mom pays every day.

A while ago on NPR they had a psychiatrist talking about the over use of anti-depressant drugs in the United States and his theory about alternatives.  I didn't listen to the whole program, but here's a brief synopsis of the people in "high-stress situations" that this doctor had studied:  "high-powered Washington politicians to Hurricane Katrina victims, from overstressed doctors, lawyers, and stay-at-home moms to orphans from war-ravaged Kosovo and Gaza."   It is just me or does it say something that "stay-at-home moms" and "orphans from war-ravaged Kosovo and Gaza" are used in the same sentence?    (Please note, I am not saying that all stay-at-home moms are depressed and have the same issues as Hurricane Katrina victims.)

Picture Day

Today was picture day at my six year old twin daughters elementary school.  I've had their outfits picked out ever since I came across the adorable dresses at The Gap.  One was black with cream colored embroidery, the other cream with black embroidery, they even came with matching hair bands.  I had visions of sending out their little wallet size pictures in our Christmas card with their names and ages written on the back. 

I must admit I was a little nervous when it was time to get dressed after breakfast this morning.  We've had our share of wardrobe battles.  I have never dressed them exactly alike, but when they were very little I always dressed them in similar outfits or the same outfit in different colors.  That all ended about the time they started preschool.  One of them refused to wear anything but a dress and the other had definite opinions about what colors she would and wouldn't wear and what constituted a matching outfit. 

For the most part, I let them pick out their own clothes.  It's a battle I choose not to fight in the morning.  If they want to wear a sweater dress with tights when the thermometer is likely to top 90 degrees, I let them know they may be uncomfortable and allow them to decide whether or not to change.  They've learned the hard way that sometimes mom gives good advice.