The Dream Crusher

Today I am re-posting one of my fav posts from 2012 because,  well, it’s still very relevant chez WM. With that, I bring you, life with an older sibling, from the perspective of the little one, see if it rings true in your house too:

“Mommy!! Mommy!! LOOK LOOOK LOOOOOOOOK!!!!” shouts my 3.5 year old. “IT IS BATMAN!!!!!! BATMAN!! I can’t wait to see it!” she exclaims, jumping out of her skin, dancing in front of the new Batman movie poster earlier this summer.

Before I had a chance to even answer, her older sister helpfully responds with this: “You are too little to see that movie. And when you are big enough to see that movie, it won’t be in the theater anymore. So you will never get to see it.”

A 6-year-old will catch your dreams and then crush them.

Ahh…welcome DREAM CRUSHER…glad for you to join our family.

I’ve noticed this pattern of behavior repeatedly through the year since she was months shy of her sixth birthday.

A more benign example than the soul crushing, reality biting, mean-spirited dead pan response to her little sister’s naive enthusiasm for a violent and age-inappropriate movie, would be taking them to any kind of show or production.  Classic example being Disney on Ice.

Cue to the three-year-old exclaiming “Look! I see Mickey Mouse! I see the Lion King!! Mommy, do you see them!”

“They aren’t real, they are just pretend, you know that, right,” helpfully points out the Dream Crusher.

My favorite is when the younger one fights back in a defiant toddler voice, accurately emphasizing the right words “They ARE real. I see them RIGHT THERE!”

Most recently, last week we enjoyed a week of vacation in the Outer Banks. Our favorite day was a trip to Ocracoke Island, a 40 minute ferry ride from the tip of Hatteras Island. While exploring the beautiful island, we learned it is where the infamous pirate Blackbeard was killed in the 1800s. My little one dedicated an entire year of her life to being a pirate, or rather, 33% of her entire lifespan included dressing in pirate gear. That is hardcore. The only thing I am certain I’ve dedicated 33% of my life too, well frankly more, is eating and sleeping.

She moved out of the phase slowly this spring, in exchange for a love of superheros. But learning we were near the site of where Blackbeard roamed only reignited her passion for pirates and she was soon on the hunt for his ghost. And demanding her pirate gear and telescope.

#YouNeverBringTheRightStuffOnVacation

Enter Dream Crusher.

“You aren’t going to find his ghost. You aren’t going to find anything about Blackbeard. You know why? Because when he was killed, they used his head as a punch bowl.  I learned that in summer camp.”

#ThanksSummerCamp

Apparently even on vacation, the dream crusher never rests.

Tell me you have a dream crusher living in your home, sharing the same roof with a little believer? Some days I love it because being #2 in the line up of 4 sisters, I have a profound respect for the role of the older sibling in keeping the younger sibling in place. It is an age-old necessity that shapes character. But sometimes, sometimes, it would be nice for the dream crusher to go on sabbatical.

“Like” the Wired Momma Facebook page so I can crush your dreams.

 

Alcohol Consumption & Pregnancy?

Last month, the Wall Street Journal ran a provocative piece written by Emily Oster, an economist, analyzing what is safe and not safe to consume during pregnancy. At the time it ran, what particularly piqued my interest was her analysis of alcohol consumption during pregnancy. Ms. Oster herself was interested in analyzing the data on what is safe or unsafe for a pregnant woman and her baby during pregnancy, and while she carefully noted she’s most interested in caffeine intake for her own personal reasons, a good bit of the article delves into alcohol consumption.

Oster breaks down consumption into categories like occasional, light and moderate drinkers and digs into their risks of fetal alcohol syndrome NOFAS_main-logoand impacting their baby’s IQ. Even though I am not pregnant now, I found the article interesting because like most anyone who has ever been pregnant, I considered my own behaviors while pregnant as I read through her findings. In the interest of full disclosure, I did have a few glasses of wine during each of my pregnancies. Maybe 3 or 4 total, which I’m not even sure would qualify me as an occasional drinker by Oster’s standards, but I know many people who would absolutely have no alcohol and I know some who had a few more drinks than I did – but not many.

Today, September 9, is International Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders (FASD) Awareness Day – so there is no better day than today – to take a closer look at the risks of alcohol consumption during pregnancy. According to the DC-based National Organization on Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (NOFAS), prenatal alcohol consumption is a leading cause of brain damage, developmental disabilities and learning and behavioral problems in children and adults, and it is completely, 100% preventable when expectant mothers abstain from alcohol. In fact, NOFAS expressed outrage at the Oster piece in the Wall Street Journal and wrote a rebuttal detailing how Oster cherry picked the studies she evaluated for her analysis and ignored other larger studies pointing to the dangers of any alcohol consumption during pregnancy.

Most importantly, NOFAS notes the following: “Some media reports suggest there are mixed messages about the risk of light to moderate alcohol consumption during pregnancy. In fact, no medical or disability agency or organization in the U.S. advises the use of any amount of alcohol during pregnancy, and no published research concludes that light alcohol consumption is completely safe.”

Here are some startling facts provided to me from NOFAS:

  • Nearly 100,000 newborns in the United States every year are exposed to heavy or binge drinking—the highest risk for FASD—during their prenatal development.
  • It is conservatively estimated that 40,000 newborns each year in the U. S. alone are affected by FASD, more new cases annually than Downs syndrome, cerebral palsy, cystic fibrosis, spina bifida and sudden infant death syndrome, combined.
  • FASD prevention and education saves taxpayers money and eases the burden on the health care system. Prevention is at least ten-times more cost effective than the average $1.4 million lifetime cost to treat one person with FASD.
  • The recognition of mental and behavioral health issues associated with prenatal alcohol exposure in the recently published Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) demonstrates the growing recognition of FASD and will increase diagnosis and treatment options for individuals living with FASD. Over 80% of adults with FASD live with mental health issues, and over half experience one or more of the most common secondary disabilities, such as trouble with the law, disrupted school experience, and the inability to live independently.

If you are pregnant, I’d consider you to read up a little more on the issue of alcohol and pregnancy, especially if you fall into the “light drinker” category, NOFAS has some great resources on their site. Honestly, most of the above facts were news to me and I found the figures to be alarming. Very few mothers want to expose their children to risk or a lifetime of disease and challenges and I think it’s easy to chalk up fetal alcohol syndrome to something only women with substance abuse problems are facing. Now that I’ve connected with NOFAS, it seems clear to me that this is an organization that should be on our radar screens when we are looking to donate money and raise awareness around an important issue. In fact, NOFAS and its 40 affiliates collectively support 5,000 children and adults with FASD each year, respond to over 25,000 specific requests for information and referrals and conduct over 500 conferences, training sessions, and workshops for medical and allied health students and practitioners, educators, criminal justice personnel and other audiences. That’s a tall order.

SMHB_invite_cover_3In honor of International Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders (FASD) Awareness Day, NOFAS is participating in a series of events all week long, culminating in an international “Smart Moms, Healthy Babies” gala and fundraiser on Thursday night at the Italian Embassy. Yours truly will be in attendance, I’m hardly one to pass up a swanky affair at a great location – with a fashion show to boot! I would encourage you to consider joining me, ticket prices are definitely steep but the money is going towards such an important cause and if you are pregnant, your ticket is considerably cheaper.

We love to talk about the importance of carving out some moi-time here on WM – so why not throw on a fabulous dress, a pair of heels and join me at the Italian Embassy starting at 6:30PM on Thursday? Get your ticket here!

Disclosure: NOFAS invited me to be a guest at the gala on Thursday night. My opinions here are all my own.

 

 

 

What I Learned Over Summer Break

Let’s pretend I were going back to school this week. Here’s what I’d tell my teacher I learned over summer break:

1. My children are cows. They eat all the time. Nothing reminds you more of this reality than summer break. The constant grazing drives me NUTS. Yet I can’t win this battle. I threatened at each meal if they didn’t finish what was on their plates, they would get nothing until the next meal. I am full of shit. My only option was to give-up feeding them on weekends and let their dad do it.

The constant grazing drives me nuts.My children are cows.

2. When sunscreen is concerned, every day is ground hog day. From Memorial Day to the present day, sunscreen must be applied on my extremely fair and red headed children EVERY DAY. Yet it is a daily battle, the whining, the complaining, the running away when they see the bottles come out of the drawer. Why? Why? Why is this still happening?

#GroundhogDay

#IHateSunscreen

3. I’m Not a Tiger Mom. We had big goals and dreams for what we were going to accomplish academically this summer. We didn’t. They are 7 and 4. It falls on me. Morning work time and word wall words happened in late June. By the time we were through July 4, forget it.

Haven’t read quite this many yet this summer

Practicing letters and numbers for my preschooler, again, we were hot to trot in June. By July, who needs numbers and letters, let’s turn on a show!!

#NotATigerMom

4. Summer Bucket Lists are Super Annoying.  Back to hopes, dreams, unicorns and wishes, we had BIG PLANS for this summer, I tell you. BIG PLANS. Does getting organized to hit the pool by 3pm count for anything?

5. Bike rides are happy-ish experiences for which even the most prepared are, apparently, never prepared.   My oldest started riding without training wheels in the spring. I had big ambitions for our summer days spent biking because we are steps from Rock Creek Park.

Even a vacation bike ride on the beach turned into an epic drama.

Even a vacation bike ride on the beach turned into an epic drama.

The world was our oyster. Until one day when we were heading out for a 3 mile round trip escapade and about 6/10ths of a mile from home, my youngest pointed out some deer, my oldest looked, swerved and had an epic wipe out. I swear there is still gravel in her shins. After safely getting off my bike, ensuring my youngest was stable in the bikeseat on the back of my bike, I went to tend to the gushing blood pouring from my oldest’s knees as she screamed bloody murder. Had there been any sharks or wolves lurking, we would have been screwed.

But see – I had no supplies with me. No band aids, no neosporin, no nothing. We had only the grass to wipe her blood all over.  And then, as luck would have it, my bike went tumbling down, bringing my youngest crashing to the ground, scraping up her elbow with blood now gushing from her arm.

#MotherOfTheYear?

Next bike ride, I was PREPARED. My backpack was filled with bandages, neosporin, band aids, water, I was a mobile CVS clinic.

Except when my eldest got stung by a hornet 4 miles from our house – think I was prepared for that?

Happy-ish Trails……..

The year I took back vacation. Or my kids gave it back.

The year I took back vacation. Or my kids gave it back.

6. Summer vacation can be reclaimed.  This one was a real surprise to me friends. Many of you know I’ve spent several summers writing about how vacation is actually “vacation.” I loathed those cruel parents on the beach who had the audacity to bring a MAGAZINE. Or could have conversations with their spouses. WHAT THE HELL were they doing, I scowled, while I chased, ran, scrambled, negotiated and wiped tears. Indeed, my friend so wisely dubbed vacation as actually just JOB RE-LOCATION.

I’ve written about it so much in the past.

By the end of the summer, I didn’t quite have the nerve to bring a book to the beach because through the crashing waves and squawking seagulls, I knew they could hear me open its pages and would come running, immediately hungry. But I sipped cool refreshing drinks, had uninterrupted conversations with Mr. WM and dare I say, RELAXED? It is true, it can happen to you if it hasn’t already, vacation does become a true word again. Not an ironic  word.

Believe, kittens. C’est vrai.

7. Children are allergic to closing screen doors.  My home is a shelter for flies. I can’t win this one.

What did you learn over summer break? What did I forget? Hit “Like” on Wired Momma’s Facebook page, or you’re totally missing out.

From Cliches…to Kindergarten….to Cribless…

For everyone with a rising Kindergartener, this post, now two years old, is for you. But wait – everyone else – it’s also for you.  Turns out, for me at least, shedding a few tears behind my sunglasses when they board that bus the first day didn’t end after Kindergarten, here we go again as she heads off to 2nd grade.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

“They grow up so fast!” – does it not seem that everyone preaches this to you when you are a bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived, hormonal, chubby, cranky new mom?

What does that mean, I used to wonder. I would stare at my baby wrapped like a burrito and swear with each passing minute that I would never again sleep uninterrupted. I wouldn’t shower with ease. I wouldn’t know what an impromptu night out on the town would mean. I would be trapped by this small cute blob that basically always needed something but didn’t give much back.

“Oh, she’s so adorable. Enjoy it now! It doesn’t last…”

I know, I know, I would snark in my head thinking of cruel things to bark back at this well-intentioned stranger….I  know….they grow up so fast. They all do except  mine, who won’t sleep and really fusses at inconvenient times.

I hated that cliché. I hated it as much as I hated “Sleep when the baby sleeps”

You know why I hated that one? Because I TRIED but she didn’t sleep LONG ENOUGH….where could I get the kid who slept when mommy slept? Why didn’t someone put that one on the menu? Aren’t they supposed to obey and respect their mother’s wishes?

But then came Monday. When my sweet smiling baby went from this:

Will she really ever grow up?

to this:

I never agreed to this happening so fast

In the blink of an eye.

I swear it was like someone pressed the fast-forward button times 5 and there went my sweet tramadol girl, proudly wearing the fall 2011 kindergarten accessory, the pinned on name tag identifying her name, her teacher and the color of her bus. With barely a glance back, she boarded that school bus and was off.

I totally cried behind my sunglasses, cursing that stupid cliché for being as right as it is annoying.  And then what did I do? It was like I was out to torture myself on Monday. I should have just gotten out a knife and taken up cutting.

On Saturday, pre-over-hyped (though we did lose our power) Irene, we went out and purchased a full size bed for our 2.5 year-old. I noticed her in the crib last week and realized how ridiculous it was that she was still being imprisoned. So big girl bed delivery was scheduled for Tuesday.  So what made more sense than to head to Babies’R’Us on Monday and purchase a side rail for the big girl bed.

Does that make sense to you? If it does, then you probably haven’t been in that store in a few years, like I hadn’t.

Immediately after crossing the threshold, I was drowned and suffocated by sweet baby smell, small cute baby onesies, little tiny size N diapers, cute little Halloween costumes….and there I was to purchase something to render my  home cribless…..a mere 24 hours after my oldest started Kindergarten…..the extra small baby things were mocking me. They were cooing and giggling and smelling good….

Could I get pregnant just standing there, I wondered? How could I not realize that going from Kindergarten to Cribless in the same week is just too much for a gal to take? What will the nursery look like without the beaver-chewed up sides of the wooden crib anchoring the room?

How did this happen?

(Friends…don’t forget to “Like” Wired Momma on FB to keep up with my rants and raves…I usually am not so emotional!)