Trip back in time can give you a hangover

By Jill Kelley | Thursday, March 18, 2010, 06:03 AM

As we get older, we tend to trade in activities for others according to how they fit with our lives.

When we’re growing up, we go from hopscotch to jump rope to bicycling to driving. We go from playing with friends, to hanging out, partying and standing up for each other in weddings. But there is no greater shift in how we spend our free time than after we have kids.

Instead of seeing movies and going to clubs, our days are spent feeding, changing or driving kids to soccer tournaments.

For years, our wants and needs take a big backseat to those of the kids and the family unit as a whole.

Overall, it’s not a bad way to spend our time; in fact, these are some of the best days of our lives.

But, it also is nice to retain a glimmer of our former free-wheeling selves and do some of the things we used to enjoy.

Some parents are better at this than others. For example, my husband has managed to go out and have a beer with his best friend once a week throughout our nearly 11 years as parents.

I have not been as adept, but recently I have been working to change that.

Since my youngest son is about to turn 9, I figure it is OK if I spend some more time on my interests and less time trying to learn “Mario Kart.”

I am calling it grown-up-palooza.

To that end, I recently agreed to join a group of friends to hear a live band at a local bar. I can’t remember the last time I did that, especially on my own.

It was fun, but I found that the landscape (and possibly my perspective) had changed a little since my last venture out.

At the door, just as there used to be, there was a cover charge and someone was checking IDs.

Well, at least he was checking the IDs of the guys in front of me. I had mine in my hand with my money just in case they were checking everybody.

When the guy saw me ready, he smirked a little. He didn’t ask for my proof of age.

When I got inside, the band hadn’t started, but the crowd was already so thick that all I could think was “fire hazard.”

I was glad to see, though, that other than the two I followed in, the crowd didn’t look embarrassingly young — in fact, they looked a little, older than I’d imagined.

Then again, they might have been saying the same thing about me.

I spotted my friend on the other side of the room and headed to where she and her friends had set up camp. Thankfully, they had saved me a seat.

(It reminded me that, other than trying to find a table at Chuck E. Cheese on a snowy winter weekend, I am used to going to places where seats are easily acquired.)

Soon the band started. They sounded great, but I couldn’t believe how loud they were. Soon I got back into the old habit of squeezing in conversation between songs and sets.

That also gave me time to observe the scene more closely. It was like I was surrounded by distorted versions of the kids I went to school with.

They were dancing, drinking and getting rowdy, but just with a little more weight and and a little less hair. And some, I noticed, were not embarrassed to wear earplugs.

There was something these old kids were doing that I wasn’t used to, though. In place of their matches lighting up smoky rooms, the glow from their cell phones (and subsequent pictures) were punctuating the clear darkness.

The best part though was, like me, most appeared to be taking this opportunity to let loose and have fun. For all of us, it was probably a nice break from families and responsibilities, if just for a few hours.

At any rate, I figure all this renewed fun will probably take some getting used to. But I am willing to keep at it.

It is, after all, grown-up-palooza.

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Son getting his kicks after school

By Darci Jordan | Tuesday, March 16, 2010, 02:54 PM

In a matter of just three weeks, I watched my oldest son go from a nervous beginner to, literally, earning his stripes.

Well, a stripe.

An after school martial arts program is available for the students at his school.

Initially, we hesitated, wondering if he was really interested or just wanted to wear a gi like the Karate Kid.

We decided to let him try it out.

I went with him to the first class, signed him up and he was fitted for the proper attire. He did his best to keep up with the students who had been in the class for a while.

Nervously, Noah glanced over at me while he balanced as long as he possibly could on one wobbly leg while kicking out the other. I gave him the thumbs-up.

They did tumbles and rolls, kicks, jabs and stances. At the end of the hour, Noah ran to me and unhappily cried out, “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Definitely my child. I had tried - and quit - the piano, tap dancing, tumbling, the clarinet and the trumpet before finally settling on horses at the age of 12.

“Why do you want to quit?” I asked Noah, at the same time wondering if I could get my check back.

He didn’t have a good answer. He just clung to me while we packed up his stuff.

“You need to give it another chance,” I said.

He did. And he liked it.

By the time class no. 2 came around, Noah was the proud owner of a gi and a snow white belt. He couldn’t wait for the next week.

“Don’t forget my suit,” he told me Wednesday night as we prepared his backpack for the next day.

“You like martial arts class now, huh?” I asked him.

“Yeah. I wasn’t so nervous last time because you weren’t there embarrassing me,” he said.

I intentionally didn’t attend his next class, wanting him to continue gaining confidence and doing an activity independently of dear old mom.

He’s turning into a big boy and I’m the one having growing pains. But by the end of class no. 3, the growing pains lessened.

“Mom! I earned my first stripe on my belt today!”

So did I.

Email this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com.

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VeggieTales CD offer and other favorite kids’ music

By LucyB | Friday, March 12, 2010, 12:45 AM

My 4-year-old covets his older siblings’ iPods. He wants to hear “his” music, but I’m not about to pay big bucks for a high-tech gadget to appease him.

Instead, his aunt bought him an inexpensive personal CD player a few Christmases ago, and he’s actually taken very good care of it.

So periodically, we add to his music collection (no iTunes card needed!) with whatever happens our way.

His new favorites include a series of VeggieTales CDs that will be available in Chick-fil-A kids meals from March 13 to April 17. The focus of the five CDs, which also feature videos and computer games, is building self-confidence. Topics include “You are a Friend,” “You are Loved,” and “You are Important.”

(The VeggieTales program concentrates on presenting spiritual and moral lessons in a silly, kid-friendly way. So if you’re not open to Christian-themed instruction, the series will turn you off.)

My son especially likes the story of baby Moses veggie sent floating down the river (he can relate to the mean big sister!), and he loves the sing-alongs like “Boom, Boom Ain’t It Great to be Crazy?” Another of his favorites is “Pizza Angel,” which sounds vaguely like one of the teen tragedy songs from the ’60s. (When it comes to kids’ music, there’s apparently no accounting for taste.)

A road trip favorite for our entire family? “Not for Kids Only.” The late Grateful Dead singer-guitarist Jerry Garcia and mandolinist David Grisman jam on traditional tunes such as “Jenny Jenkins,” “Teddy Bears’ Picnic” and “There Ain’t No Bugs on Me.”

Another one we borrowed from the library sooooo many times I decided to just buy our own copy on Amazon. com was “The Great Dinosaur Mystery — A Musical Fossil Fantasy” by Dinorock.

If your kids are into dinosaurs — and really, what kid isn’t? — this is a fun, fascinating listen that will get many, many repeat plays. It teaches kids (and parents) all about dinosaurs and their habits, and it helps them practice their listening skills as well. The song lyrics are clever too. You’ll catch yourself humming them years later even. (I do.)

Disney has also put out several children’s CDs that have made my son’s hit parade. Jazzy “Princess and the Frog,” “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse” and the super-fun “Los Lobos Goes Disney” are frequent picks. (Disney’s “Starstruck,” “High School Musical” and “Hannah Montana” CDs were all greedily snapped up by his big sis.)

One of his favorite CDs was a Christmas gift from his preschool teachers that has all their classroom songs on it. He sings along and performs the “choreography,” much to the whole family’s delight.

If you haven’t brought the joy of music into the life of your child yet, today is a good day to start!

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No ideal time to have kids, career

By Jill Kelley | Thursday, March 11, 2010, 08:28 AM

There was a recent survey done about working moms, asking what the “ideal” age is for women to have their first baby and have a successful career.

It was branded and released by two Web sites: TheBump.com, a Web site about pregnancy that is produced by the same company that runs the wedding site TheKnot.com, and ForbesWoman.com.

The findings? The ideal time to become a mom and retain career success is between the ages of 25 and 29.

They reasoned that because by that age, many women have gotten out of college, established careers, gained some financial security and are more ready than her younger colleagues to handle the responsibility of becoming parents.

These are certainly valid points. Whether working or not, you want to bring a baby into a stable home — both emotionally and financially.

And I took the survey for what it was: A general look at some of the ways families have found to balance all that they need and want to do in their lives. And possibly helpful to those who were planning out their futures.

It wasn’t until The Bump editor, Carley Roney, commented that I realized that there was a danger of folks taking data such as this and employing it as fact.

Roney, who said she had her first baby at 29, noted that having a baby between 25 and 29 is “the best of both worlds.”

She said: “This survey helped us find out that there is a right time.”

Now, I don’t mean to pick on Roney, who may have been pushed to declare and promote a survey victor, but it is clear that although the late 20s may work well for a great number of women, it is not necessarily the right time for everyone.

I also had my first baby at 29, although he was not planned. However, I don’t think my career or my family would have been markedly different had I waited a few years.

It also reminded me how easy it is to become structured in our modern world of information, opinion and the subsequent classification.

I remember when I told my mom that my husband and I had decided we wanted to have two kids and have them relatively close together in age.

It was a compromise between his desire for few and my desire for many, and we took steps to make that our reality both before and after they were born.

But I quickly realized that she was highly annoyed by our cookie-cutter plan.

“What if something happened to one of them?” she asked. “What would you do then? What would happen to your plan?”

My mother had her first baby at 21, and took the other four as they came. It wasn’t always the best system, as evidenced by my brother and I being a strenuous 11 months apart, but it cannot be argued that it happened as nature intended.

And, there is much to be said about letting all those elements take their course.

What I have realized since that conversation with my mother, about 10 years down the line, is that I likely did overplan where my family was concerned.

I have often wished that my husband and I had left more wiggle room for the possibility of more children, and since found out he felt the same way.

At any rate, I would have to weigh in that there is no “ideal” time for everyone to have babies, children and career. You just have to see what works for you.

It is all part of the beauty of life. And, if managing your life was simple, there would be no need for surveys and discussions such as these.

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Son makes mom’s “dream come true” … sort of

By Darci Jordan | Tuesday, March 9, 2010, 01:03 PM

I am far from a perfect mother. In fact, I had a classic mommy-meltdown recently.

After telling the boys one too many times to clean up their room, I walked in to get them ready for bed and was greeted by the same piles of clothes and toys I had demanded be put away hours ago.

Apparently, I was at the breaking point by this time of the day.

My face reddened as the “lecture” began to rise in my throat but, it didn’t come out as such. “How many times have I told you to clean your room?” I hollered like a mad woman. “I am not going to do it for you! Listen to me the first time and I won’t have to yell!”

As soon as it came out of my wide open mouth I knew I had lost all composure. The boys both looked at me like I had frogs coming out of my nose.

Then, to my dismay - and theirs - I saw Noah’s prized “big boy” toy on the floor.

“What is that?” I demanded.

Noah sheepishly stared at me, knowing he was really in trouble now.

This particular item is something he had been told from day one, was to be taken care of like it was a newborn baby, yet there it was, inviting someone to step on it.

I promptly removed the item from said location and relocated it out of Noah’s possession. He was crushed, but he knew the deal.

After my eruption, we settled into our bedtime routine, forgetting momentarily about the messy room. I tucked my little men in and left them to slumber.

“Oh, why did I do that?” I said to myself immediately feeling the guilt for acting like, well, a child.

The next morning, still in the alarm-clock daze, I went in the boys’ room to wake Noah for school.

I shuffled to the bed and roused him from the top bunk.

He sat up, glanced around his room and said, “Look Mom, the floor is clean.”

I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and looked around. Sure enough, there wasn’t a toy or shirt on the floor. After my rant, Noah had snuck out of bed and cleaned the room.

“I wanted all of your dreams to come true,” Noah said in his best salesman voice.

I laughed, but also felt the knife of guilt twist in my chest. He later admitted he was also afraid I would not ever return his prized play thing.

I sucked it up and admitted to the boys I had been a little crazy the night before and should have handled things differently, not dismissing the fact that their listening skills need some improvement.

Next time I hope the consequences will be different - for us all.

Email this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com.

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What to do with all those Easter eggs

By LucyB | Saturday, February 27, 2010, 12:04 AM

I know I’m a bit early with my Easter egg tips, but April 4 will be here before we know it, trust me.

I was inspired to share after flipping through the latest edition of Family Fun magazine, a Disney publication that I got for the amazing price of $4.29 for a year’s subscription on a tip from a favorite blogger (and friend) of mine. (Check her awesome deals and witty writing at frombottle2box.com — the title refers to her money-saving switch from expensive bottled wines to the asceptic varietal.)

How cute is this?

Anywho, back to Easter eggs. When I was cleaning out the pantry the other day, I found a Nickelodeon egg-dyeing kit (that I can’t even remember purchasing), so we are good to go on that front.

I can’t imagine not dyeing eggs! I even made Hubby do it before we had kids. Now it’s an engaging activity for us all. I just make sure we’re all wearing grubby clothes, which makes the pictures even more precious.

All the egg in one basket

After the dyeing, hiding, finding, the problem becomes: What to do with all those boiled eggs?

Family Fun provided the answer with this article on upgrading the underappreciated deviled egg. Their creations are just too cute!

(Although AllFreeCrafts.com offers an equally adorable chickie.)

Now that I have a plan, that basket of Easter eggs will no longer taunt me each time I open the refrigerator door.

Bonus material:

— Family Fun subscription on sale for only $4.69/a year! click here

— How to make the best boiled eggs: cluck here (haha)

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Family party best present for 89th birthday

By Jill Kelley | Thursday, February 25, 2010, 07:56 AM

We had a birthday party for my great-aunt last weekend. She turns 89 today, Feb. 25, and is my oldest living relative by a good score.

My sister and I didn’t have to discuss whether we would throw her a birthday party. Between our two families and kids, everyone gets at least a little soiree each year in honor of his or her birth.

But I didn’t realize how significant the occasion might be to this birthday girl.

My great-aunt was one of four girls in her family, one of which was my grandmother. My great-aunt was always the sickly one of the group, and she said many doctors had all but written her off years ago.

She once had a case of bronchitis that the doctor told her would last for 11 years.

“And, sure enough,” she said. “The day after the 11 years was up, I stopped coughing.”

Another time she was sick, she said the doctors (who must have been a little more glib in the day) told her parents that at least if she didn’t make it, they still had three other girls at home.

Since then she has survived cancers and multiple afflictions, as well as the accompanying surgeries and treatments, to arrive at this most current point in time.

And now, of her generation in the family, she is the last.

This relative desolation was behind her decision to pick up and move from Chicago to the Dayton area in March; so she could be closer to my sister and me, and our families.

It has been a year of adjustment, for her and for us, as she settles into her new life.

Although she lives in a retirement home, my sister and I help her out as we can by doing an assortment of little tasks — changing batteries, ordering clothes, helping with mailings, etc., as well as doing her banking and grocery shopping.

We have learned many things from these chores, like that there is such a thing as canned potato salad and that Von Maur might be the last store in the world that sells girdles.

Part of the reason our intervention is as requested is that our great-aunt can’t see or hear well — although the parameters of those limitations are still negotiable.

She can’t read without her magnifying machine, but those little fuzzies in the carpet (the ones I can’t see) can drive her to distraction.

And, kind of like the short people in my house, she hears what she wants to hear a good amount of the time.

But, as my sister and I remind each other, she has lived by herself for decades and never had children, so she is used to having things a certain way.

Besides, I figured, you don’t survive an 11-year case of bronchitis without more than your fair share of moxie.

As a result, the three of us have had some difficult and often clamorous conversations about how my sister and I can best help her without neglecting our families’ needs in the meantime.

We also have been trying to focus more on the enjoyable and truly invaluable aspects of living close, like spending time together, sharing family stories and celebrating life’s milestones … such as 89th birthdays.

So Saturday night, we got everybody together, ate dinner and had a delicious “whipped cream cake” as requested. The birthday girl opened a couple of presents, all the while saying, “You shouldn’t have!”

Then she told us that it was the first birthday party she had had in 20 years.

“I thought the neighbors would bring me a cake for my 75th,” she said. “But they didn’t.”

It really brought home the contrast between her life and ours, and how lonely the last several years must have been for her.

It made me more glad that she is with us today.

It also reminded me that although family life isn’t always easy, it is still infinitely better than life without family.

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