The Minimalist Approach to Parenting

I wish someone told me the first time around as a parent how little is less with kids.  I suppose it was comforting knowing I had every gadget available for any situation.  And, of course, Liam had to have every baby toy imaginable.  Somehow I must have thought that toy was going to keep him occupied and playing peacefully while I kept house – boy was I wrong! 

                I know better now.  A little tale from the Friedman house happenings the other evening demonstrates this. 

I was giving Liam his nightly bath and left him to play for a few minutes while I changed Marlo.  Mid diaper change, Liam is calling me to look at something.  I go back into the bathroom and find him standing with a poop the size of a football in his hands, saying “Gross Mommy!”  Indeed, gross!  (Although Liam is potty trained, sometimes an occasional tub accident will occur.  I think there is something about the buoyancy and the urge to go that don’t compute.)

I used to allow Liam to have an entire bucket full of bath toys.  A tub accident like this would have been a disaster if the ol’ bucket of toys was in there.  Luckily, I have taken the minimalist approach for tub time.  Liam is allowed two toys.  Check out his current toys – an old nasal aspirator and a purple, porous octopus sand scoop.  

In addition to playing with his two toys, he plays with the wall fish. (Highly recommend for kids' bathrooms!)   He cleans them and talks to them.  It is quite an ordeal to clean them all since the tiles are covered with them.  When bath time is over, there are two toys to put away instead of fifteen, and if an accident occurs in the tub, there are only two toys destroyed!

Something that really surprised me was that he seemed to have just as good of a time in the tub with two toys as he did with an entire bucket full.  The difference – he is challenged to use a bit more of his imagination!  Any other parenting minimalist approaches/ideas out there? Do share!

(Oh, and I am in the midst of redesigning my blog so there might be a few changes to layout!)

Stepping it Up!

My big boy will be three in a month and I think it’s time to step it up a notch! Today, Liam officially began his weekly chore chart.  Liam loves helping and being given responsibility.  And if there is one valuable lesson I learned from teaching, it is to give children jobs so they feel invested in being a contributing member of the classroom (or in Liam’s case – the family).    I downloaded a simple chore chart from simplemom.net and purchased three glass jars to organize his weekly allowance.  Here are the chores that he will be expected to complete: sorting the silverware from the dishwasher sans sharp knives, setting the table, helping in the kitchen (dinner prep), helping with laundry, making his bed (really assisting me in doing this), picking up toys before bed time, taking out the trash (again, assisting me), dusting base boards along floor, and vacuuming the rug in his room.

I chose chores that I knew he’d be successful at and chores that will really help me out.  Some chores, like making his bed and picking up his toys, will be completed daily. Other chores such as vacuuming his rug and dusting will only be done a couple of times per week.  He is given a nickel for each chore he completes and we mark it off on his chore chart with a sticker.  Originally, I had planned on giving him his allowance at the end of the week.  But after he completed his first two chores today, he was so excited to get the money and put it into one of his money jars that I’ve decided to give him his allowance daily.  I think the immediate gratification is needed. Once he’s a bit older then I can hold off on the allowance until the end of the week.

As for his allowance, he has to divide it up among three jars:  SAVINGS, SPENDING, and TZEDAKAH (Hebrew for righteousness, but it is associated with charity and giving).   I love that we are teaching him about managing money at this age! And I think it is important to establish a habit of giving from early on.

So, yesterday Liam and I discussed his chore chart and allowance jars, and this morning Liam completed his first two chores: making his bed and sorting the silverware from the dishwasher.  Drum roll please……it was a success!  Liam LOVED completing his chores, getting his stickers, and putting his money into his jars.  Additionally, Liam only watched TV for 15 minutes this morning. The morning TV thing is something I really struggle with.  Liam wakes up around 6:30 am and doesn’t go to school until 9 am.  Our sprinklers go on in the morning so it is too wet outside to play, and I am always trying to get things organized in the morning – Joe out the door, breakfast made, lunch packed for Liam, etc.  Not to mention I have Marlo who needs to be fed (still at the boob).  I hate plopping him down in front of the TV, but it allows me time to get things done.  I am hoping that with the chore chart Liam will be busier in the morning, watch less TV, and actually help me out a bit.

Look at my cutie sorting silverware!

There are not too many days in which I feel like the super star mom, but today I do! Patting myself on the back!!

Any other moms out there have chore success stories or some helpful tips?  I really want to keep this project going!

Thanking My Lucky Stars

This past weekend I had my first traumatic parenting experience.    It was Sunday and Joe and I were involved in some major unpacking.  My mom was down for the day helping out.  She drove down in her Ford Explorer - a car Liam loves because it’s big.  (Well, compared to my Prius it’s big.)  I often will let Liam “pretend drive” my Prius.  Of course the keys are never in there and it’s always parked in the gated driveway so it’s pretty safe.

Liam asked if he could drive the Explorer.  I said he could as long as daddy would watch him.  So Liam jumped up into the Explorer’s driver’s seat and Joe went outside to supervise/organize moving boxes.  I was inside when I heard Joe scream like I’ve never heard him scream before “STOP! STOP!”  I immediately ran outside.  As I am running to get to the yard I am screaming “Stop” as well. I have no idea what I am screaming at, but I am assuming if Joe is screaming this then I should too.  And I am thinking that the reason he is screaming this is because Liam has somehow wondered into the middle of the street and a car is about to hit him.  I am terrified.  And I surely was not prepared to see what was actually going on.   Once I reach the front door I see the Explorer rolling down the street with Liam behind the wheel and Joe is running after the car!  My two year old is literally driving a car!  

I start to run after the car as well.  I am now screaming at Joe to get Liam out of car.  Joe reaches the car and opens the driver’s side door to grab the wheel and slow down the car.  Thankfully, there was a curb ahead and no car was parked in the way.  The Explorer lightly hit the curb and came to a stop.  Liam just seemed confused about the whole situation until he saw me terrified and crying.  Then he got pretty upset. 

Looking back at it, the whole situation is humorous – Liam driving, Joe yelling at him to stop (like Liam knows what he’s doing.)  And as I was running to the car, I kicked off my slippers to run better.  One slipper found its way into our neighbor’s rose bush.

But the reality is that we got really lucky.  What if Liam were to have gotten scared and tried to get out of the moving car?  What if there were other kids outside?  There are about 10 kids who live on our street and there are usually at least 5 kids playing outside daily.  There could have been a car parked in front of the curb – a smaller issue, but still, we got lucky that no one got hurt and we weren’t dealing with insurance companies for the rest of the day.

We are still not sure how Liam got the Explorer to start rolling.  The keys were not inside so he must have somehow knocked it into neutral and our driveway has enough of a slant that it started to roll.  Lesson learned - no more “pretend driving” real cars for Liam.

I am sure Liam will appreciate this story years from now and we have certainly laughed about it since, but I was pretty traumatized.  So, yes, I am thanking my lucky stars that my car-loving little boy survived his first experience behind the wheel.

New Kids on the Block!

Of course our move in date had to be on Easter Sunday and our entire block was dressed in their Sunday best and mingling on their front lawns when our U-Haul rolled up.   All eyes were on us.  Everyone knew we were the new kids on the block.  I was following Joe in my Prius and over heard two ladies across the street chatting.  Lady #1: “Is it just a couple moving in?”  Lady #2: “I heard they have three kids.”

By far, this was one of the strangest experiences of my life.  It was like something out of a movie.  Throughout the afternoon several families from the block came over to introduce themselves.  They were all friendly and welcoming. 

The following day one of the kids from across the street asked Liam if he wanted to come out to play.  (It is pretty darn cute – all the neighborhood kids meet from about 4-6 each day and play outside on a grassy knoll area that links our street with another street.)  Liam was a bit intimidated, but he eventually gave in.  He ended up having a great time!  And I got to chat it up with several of the moms.  Whew!  I need to have my A-Game on when I am with the other moms!

I suggested to Liam that we get his tricycle out from the garage and another mom told her kids to get their bikes as well.  Of course, she reminded them to get their helmets.  Liam looked up and me and said, “Mom, I want a helmet.”  Yikes!!!!! I realize Liam has no helmet.   Panic!!!!! I don’t want to be looked down upon or given the scarlet letter for the “unsafe parent.”  Quickly, I come up with a perfect white lie.  “Liam, your helmet is still in storage someplace.  You’ll just have to be extra careful today.”   Brilliant.

And of course, the other moms introduce me to their children as Mrs. Friedman.  Jeez!  I mean, I love the manners and I’m all about teaching my son how to be courteous, but I only remember referring to adults as Mr. and Mrs. if they were my teachers.  But, I am the newbie on the block so I’m going to abide by the established rules.  Mrs. Friedman it is kiddos.

Difficult Conversations

I have been somewhat dreading the conversation with Liam where I explain to him that Joe isn’t his birth father.  There are many reasons why this conversation makes me uncomfortable.  First of all, Joe is Liam’s only daddy.  Liam has no contact with his birth father so Joe is daddy in every way with the exception that they do not share DNA.  But I know that Liam needs to know the truth.  It’s not right to make up lies or be dishonest with someone about something this important.  What if Liam’s father were to pop back into our lives?  Or we may need to contact his father for medical information.  We are currently in the process of having Joe adopt Liam, but this could take awhile.  And I know that my window for explaining the situation to Liam is open now.  

A few weeks ago, on a flight I was taking out to New York City, I sat next to a gentleman who told me about the day he found out that his brother was actually his half-brother.  His brother was quite some years older and it was his wedding day.  His mother pulled him aside and explained to him that his brother would be called by a different last name in the ceremony because he has a different father.  The gentleman said that he was truly hurt by this since he always thought they had the same parents.  He was about 7 years old.  I, too, have a half-brother.  But I never remember being told that we had different fathers.  It was just something that I always knew.   And my brother’s father lived in another state and he didn’t visit much.  So, I must have been told at some point (most likely I was retold at various times).  But I don’t remember being told, and I’ve never had any issues with my brother being my half-brother.  To me he is as much my brother as my other brother who is my full sibling.

I don’t want Liam to remember being told that Joe isn’t his birth father.  I just want it to be something that he has always known.  

So the other day, Liam and I were playing with Marlo.  He asked me if she came out of my tummy.  I said yes (no need to get too detailed here!)  I thought this was a good lead-in to the conversation I have been dreading.  I told Liam that he came out of my tummy, too, and that it takes a man and a woman to make a baby.  I told him that mommy and daddy made Marlo, but mommy and a different man made him.  He got a very concerned look on his face and said, “Mommy, I don’t want a new daddy.”  Immediately, I said that he wasn’t going to get a new daddy and that Joey is his daddy and will always be his daddy, but a different man made him.  He was silent for a moment – either in deep thought or deep confusion (most likely the later.)  He broke his silence with picking up a toy and asking me to play with him.

I know that I will have to make references to this conversation many times in order for the information to settle in and not be forgotten.  I have to admit, though, I hate it.  Liam and Joe love each other so much.  And Joe has been daddy since Liam was about 4 months old.  I wish I could magically make Joe Liam’s birth father.  It would be different if Liam’s birth father was in the picture because then I could explain that he has two daddies.  But Liam doesn’t have two daddies – he has one.

Ugh…tough conversations.  Suggestions?   Words of encouragement?

Hoinky, Berine, Nudey..wtf?!

Well, I am two months in to being a mother of two and a stay at home mom.  Things are going pretty well considering that we are living in temporary housing and just moved to a new city where we don’t know anyone.  Marlo is wonderful and precious.  She’s the easy one.  Liam, on the other hand, has been my challenge.

                I love my little boy dearly.  He is a sweetheart, but he is going through a lot right now – new sister, new school, and a new home.  We gave him three large life changes all at the same time…poor guy.  He probably doesn’t know what hit him.   I knew there would be some regression with his behavior with so many changes.  For instance, he’s completely potty trained at school, but at home it’s a struggle to get him to use the bathroom.  And at home he usually wants his diapers on…he wants to be treated like the baby again.  This I was prepared for.  

                Despite the reading I did and parents I asked for advice from before Marlo was born, nothing prepared me for the bizarre vocabulary and name calling Liam started using.  He first started to call Marlo “Nudey” (as in a name, proper noun usage).  Then he started to use it as a verb, as in “I want to nudey her.”  And this always means he’s about to do something annoying like shake her bouncy seat or throw a toy at her.   Then he started to make up other words: hoinky, berine, gigi??  Wtf?!  What do these words even mean?  Nothing…absolutely nothing.  But they indicate that his behavior is about to take a turn for the worse when he uses them.   If it only happened a couple times a day I wouldn’t be that alarmed by it, but Liam intends to “nudey” something at least 20 times a day. 

                As if these annoying words weren’t enough, somehow he learned the F-word.  Yep, that’s right.  Liam has been dropping F-bombs.  And he totally gets it and how it’s used.  Last week we were driving to school and I said, “Oh no, we forgot to brush your teeth this morning.”  Liam’s response, “Oh f_ck.”  He spills something.  His response, “Oh f_ck.”  Of course we correct him and explain to him that it is a very bad word and he can’t use it, but the seed has been planted.  There is no ridding him of it now.  I am pretty sure he picked it up at Marlo’s baby naming ceremony.  Liam was around a ton of adults that day and he started using the word the next day after the celebration.  I hate to be that person who is correcting other adults and asking people to watch their language around my kid, but it’s come to that.  It really bothers me when an adult swears in front of Liam.  I know that it’s never done purposefully and it’s hard to restrict your language unless you are used to it because you have kids.   But it’s really tough when your two year old is using profanities.  Ultimately, Liam’s language is a reflection of his home and his parents. (Ugh...nothing makes me feel more like a failure….)

                Of course I was afraid that Liam would start name calling at school and dropping F-bombs in front of his teachers so I confessed everything to Miss Jessi at our parent/teacher conference.  The conference was going great, until I started listing the bizarre words that Liam has been using.  I think I started cracking up after “hoinky.”  I mean, I just couldn’t keep a straight face.  Here I was trying to have a professional conversation and I was saying words like “nudey” and “hoinky.”  Thankfully, Liam hasn’t used the F-word at school, but he’s got quite the following with his use of “nudey.”  Apparently, there’s a crew of kids in the class using the word now…great.  Sigh.

Any other parents out there with kids using bad words or name calling? Advice?

Marlo Marie Friedman's Birth Story

Ever since giving birth to my son, I’ve been curious to hear other women’s birth stories.  I suppose it is like soldiers telling war stories.  There is a need for camaraderie from other women who’ve been through the laborious process.  You don’t really get how incredible birth is until you experience it.  And each birth story is so unique that I always learn something new each time I hear one.  So, for those who are genuinely curious or for those who are into sci-fi (what’s more surreal than one human being emerging from another?), here is the birth story of my beautiful daughter, Marlo Marie Friedman, born January 21, 2012.

                I was scheduled to be induced on Friday, January 20^th.  My OBGYN, the great and very magical Dr. David Finke, believed that I’d have the best chance of not having  repeat c-section if I gave birth a few days before my actual due date.  The day was pretty mellow although I knew I was feeling different.  I was pretty sure I had started labor late Thursday night.  I was feeling very mild contractions and just general discomfort all day.  The induction wasn’t scheduled until 10 pm so Joe and I got dinner with Liam and put him to bed before we left for the Cedars.  

                After being hooked up to the contraction monitor, I found out that I was having contractions about every 6 minutes.  I was thrilled to hear this because that meant that baby was ready to come on out despite the scheduled induction.  Dr. Finke arrived to put the foley balloon in me.  This would get me more dilated, but there is no use of drugs or medication so it’s very safe for baby and mom.  Let me just say, “Ouch!”  I’ll spare you the details; anyone who really wants to know more can Google it – not pretty and not comfortable.  The foley balloon did its job quickly and I was having contractions every 3 minutes and was 4 centimeters dilated by 7 am on Saturday.  At this point my contractions slowed down a bit so my nurse gave me a little pitocin to keep the contractions regular.

                Things were going great!  Joe and I were working through the contractions.  I was in complete control.  I had to be hooked up to the fetal monitor because of my prior c-section and wanted to be put on remote monitoring.  Cedars has remote monitoring which means mothers can be monitored but still walk around the maternity floor.  Basically, it allows for more mobility.  Unfortunately, all the remote monitors were broken, so I had to be pretty creative with the 3 feet of walking room around my hospital bed.  Carly, my nurse, was a rock star.  She was supportive of me having a natural birth and said that I was progressing so well that there was certainly no need for a repeat c-section and that I could make it through labor naturally without pain meds or an epidural if I wanted.  Carly even brought in a midwife to assist since we were planning for the natural birth.  

                By far, the best part of labor was having a 30 minute hot bath. By the time I went into the bath I was about 7 centimeters and was not feeling so hot.  The water was incredible.  My pain went from a level 9 to a level 4 is minutes.  I swear I could have stayed in that bath all day.

                My labor started to drastically change after reaching 7 centimeters.  I was no longer progressing.  I stayed at 7 centimeters for 5 hours!  Amy, our mid-wife, and Dr. Finke confirmed that Marlo’s head was lodged in a position that was no allowing her to move down the birth canal fully; thus, I was no longer dilating.  After so many hours of not progressing, Marlo was showing signs of distress.  So my doctor said that we would have to go in for another c-section.  Joe and I were quite surprised since everything had been going so well with the labor and Carly assured us that we were out of the woods in regards to surgery.  Dr. Finke was even surprised, but 5 hours with no progress at 7 centimeters and signs of distress were very clear signs pointing towards c-section.  I was less disappointed than I had thought I would be since I knew going into this birth that there was always a chance of having another c-section.  I didn’t want that type of birth, but ultimately, I wanted a healthy baby.

                Dr. Finke said he would be back for surgery in an hour.  In that hour we prepared.  I got an epidural and Joe packed up all the bags in our room.  When Dr. Finke came back, before we signed on the dotted lines for the c-section, he checked me again to see if Marlo’s head had turned (just in case a miracle had occurred).  The expression on his face was priceless – a look of curiosity to a look of amazement.  Marlo had turned!  And I was at 9 centimeters!  Dr. Finke didn’t want to wait any longer so he told me to start pushing.  Just like that!  Joe and weren’t even prepared!  I couldn’t believe I was being told to push when I thought I was being wheeled back in to surgery!  I’ve never been that more physically determined in my entire life.  With each push I knew I would meet my little girl and it was thrilling.  I got to touch her head as it crowned – such an incredible feeling – highly recommend it for other birthing moms out there!  And when I first set eyes on her I was immediately in love.  I remember when I first saw Liam and I knew that it was truly love at first sight.  It was the same with Marlo.  I remember being little and hearing about love at first sight, but never being told that love at first sight only happens when you see your child for the first time.   She was perfect; she is perfect.

                I love my husband dearly, but I could not have made it through those 22 hours of labor without my nurse Carly, our mid-wife Amy, and Dr. Finke.  Several of the nurses told me that I was lucky to have Dr. Finke because most doctors would not have let me labor that long with no progress and would not have let me push at 9 centimeters.  So, yes, Dr, Finke is magical and I am completely grateful that he gave Marlo her time to tell her birth story.