Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Birthday of a bitterweet time
My middle son, Carter, was born 10 years ago today. For each one of my kids, there's something I recall about the events of what was going on outside the hospital the day they were born.
My oldest was born the day Jacqueline Kennedy died.
My second, born via emergency c-section, arrived on the day of the final episode of Mad About You. I was so drugged up I dozed off and missed most of it.
My fourth son was born the day my second book arrived in the mail. As I was at home in labor, a box of my new books was delivered.
When my fifth son was born, it was the day Pope John Paul II died.
Today is my third son's birthday. He was born one month after 9/11. Although I didn't personally know anyone who died in any of the terrorist attacks that day, it really touched me -- as it did most Americans. I spent a lot of that final month crying - either in sadness for all the loss and all the evil that I learned existed in the world, but also in happiness for the effort of those working diligently to pull survivors from the rubble and for the good that came from it in seeing Americans pull together. Those final few weeks of pregnancy are emotional anyway, but being pregnant on 9/11 magnified it.
I remember being in the labor room that morning and watching television coverage of the president requesting a moment of silence at the time the towers had fallen exactly one month earlier. It felt so strange. I was about to give birth. It was a happy time for me, yet I knew that across the country there were so many people hurting and so much uncertainty in what was ahead. At that time the events were so new and raw and you couldn't really put it out of your mind for long. Now ten years later, it's not the focus of the day.
I just wish he could have known what life was like before 9/11. Or better yet that he never had to know that day at all.
My oldest was born the day Jacqueline Kennedy died.
My second, born via emergency c-section, arrived on the day of the final episode of Mad About You. I was so drugged up I dozed off and missed most of it.
My fourth son was born the day my second book arrived in the mail. As I was at home in labor, a box of my new books was delivered.
When my fifth son was born, it was the day Pope John Paul II died.
Today is my third son's birthday. He was born one month after 9/11. Although I didn't personally know anyone who died in any of the terrorist attacks that day, it really touched me -- as it did most Americans. I spent a lot of that final month crying - either in sadness for all the loss and all the evil that I learned existed in the world, but also in happiness for the effort of those working diligently to pull survivors from the rubble and for the good that came from it in seeing Americans pull together. Those final few weeks of pregnancy are emotional anyway, but being pregnant on 9/11 magnified it.
I remember being in the labor room that morning and watching television coverage of the president requesting a moment of silence at the time the towers had fallen exactly one month earlier. It felt so strange. I was about to give birth. It was a happy time for me, yet I knew that across the country there were so many people hurting and so much uncertainty in what was ahead. At that time the events were so new and raw and you couldn't really put it out of your mind for long. Now ten years later, it's not the focus of the day.
I just wish he could have known what life was like before 9/11. Or better yet that he never had to know that day at all.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Hallmark "Special Occasion" t-shirt giveaway
Recently I blogged about a blogging event I attended just over a week ago in Chicago sponsored by Hallmark. It was their mom blogger "Moments Between the Milestones" tour highlighting the "Life is a Special Occasion" campaign.
Here's some of the Hallmark team that was there :
It was a fun day with lots of laughs and tears. You'll notice that everyone is wearing purple shirts. The shirts had a blank box followed by the words "...is a special occasion." We all got a shirt and a purple sharpie and were to fill in the blanks.
In the picture above, one of Hallmark's photographers was sharing the story about his shirt. It read "7:10 a.m." Why? He explained that it's the time of day when his special needs gives him a kiss and hug before boarding the school bus. Other moms that were there filled in the blank with such items as "birthing twins," "back to school shopping," "volunteering" and "dress-up tea time with my daughters." And everyone shared the special story behind what they wrote.
My special occasion was "Svengoolie Night." On Saturday nights we have a tradition of tuning in to black-and-white B-movies from the 50's and 60's (or earlier) on a show hosted by a character named Svengoolie. Sometimes it's a movie featuring Dracula or Frankenstein. Sometimes it's about a creature from Japan like Godzilla or Mothra. Sometimes it's classics like "The Blob." It's our fun night together when we pop popcorn, have milk and cookies and bundle up under sleeping bags. It's our special occasion. Here's a picture of my shirt.
Here's some of the Hallmark team that was there :
It was a fun day with lots of laughs and tears. You'll notice that everyone is wearing purple shirts. The shirts had a blank box followed by the words "...is a special occasion." We all got a shirt and a purple sharpie and were to fill in the blanks.
In the picture above, one of Hallmark's photographers was sharing the story about his shirt. It read "7:10 a.m." Why? He explained that it's the time of day when his special needs gives him a kiss and hug before boarding the school bus. Other moms that were there filled in the blank with such items as "birthing twins," "back to school shopping," "volunteering" and "dress-up tea time with my daughters." And everyone shared the special story behind what they wrote.
My special occasion was "Svengoolie Night." On Saturday nights we have a tradition of tuning in to black-and-white B-movies from the 50's and 60's (or earlier) on a show hosted by a character named Svengoolie. Sometimes it's a movie featuring Dracula or Frankenstein. Sometimes it's about a creature from Japan like Godzilla or Mothra. Sometimes it's classics like "The Blob." It's our fun night together when we pop popcorn, have milk and cookies and bundle up under sleeping bags. It's our special occasion. Here's a picture of my shirt.
Hallmark gave each participant a bag with some goodies and it included a short-sleeved version of the shirt seen above. So, I'm giving it away to a reader so that you can insert your special occasion. Here's how to enter:
1) Subscribe to this blog on the right sidebar by clicking on "Join this Site."
2) Leave a comment on this blog, telling me what one of your special occasions would be and include an e-mail address that I can contact you at are if you are selected as the winner.
3) Follow "Mom Moments" on Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Mom-Moments/313529082299
4) Follow one of my other Facebook pages - either "Chicago Foodie Sisters" - http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Chicago-Foodie-Sisters/234242656600860 or "Midwest Family Traveler" - http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Chicago-Foodie-Sisters/234242656600860.
The giveaway will end on Saturday, October 15 at 6 p.m. A random winner will be chosen among those who have entered by following instructions #1 - 4 above.
Reliving childhood shortcomings
One thing that I've done as a parent that I've become very aware of is how I put emphasis on certain things to compensate for not having them as a child. I'm sure a lot of parents do this as well. In my early parenting days, I put priority on giving my kids things that I didn't have. And it can be a good thing. Take it too far and it can be unhealthy.
I've probably leaned a little toward overdoing it. Ok, maybe a lot toward overdoing it. One thing I've done this with is birthday parties. When I was a child I attended lots of fun birthday parties of classmates - or heard about ones that I hadn't been invited to. I always longed for elaborate birthday parties, but it was never in the budget. Our birthdays were celebrated on a weekend close to the actual date with my three older siblings and their significant others (and later my nieces) as guests. We'd have cake and I'd open presents. It was a good time. I always felt special on that one day when I got to open gifts (usually clothes) and got to blow out the candles.
However, it never felt satisfying. I wanted to have friends included. I wanted to hang streamers from the ceiling. I wanted to have games and prizes and goodie bags. But no matter how hard I begged, it didn't happen. One year, I decided to have a party and invited a few neighborhood friends. I don't remember if I clued my mom in on it or took care of the arrangements on my own. I think it was mostly my doing because I recall pulling coins out of my piggy bank to go to the store and buy a cake mix to bake the cake. All I had enough for was a box of jello mix, so I served jello and tried to prop a candle up in it.
Later on, when I was 11 or 12, I talked my parents into letting me have a pool party. I picked out a couple friends and my dad dropped us off at the community pool. Although it wasn't for my birthday, I once convinced them to let me have a sleepover party, which was a blast. And one Halloween I had a party that I planned out myself. I was 10. I prepared the games and homemade decorations. It's one of my fondest childhood memories and nearly 3 decades later, old friends still remember that Halloween party. I loved entertaining and I still do.
It was apparent on my oldest son's first birthday that I was going overboard. I ordered a custom cake with big bird to go along with the theme and a smash cake, put up a ton of decorations, planned games for his older cousins, made up goodie bags, had a banner made to put up in the back yard, rented a jump house, got a pinata and even rented a helium tank to fill up balloons. It was his first birthday. It's not like he was even enjoying it. He napped through most of his party.
Later parties were much of the same. One year, we had a Toy Story theme that included a retired cowboy doing rope tricks. Once his brother arrived I had to tone it down a bit. But as they got older I also added a kid party where they could invite friends. They've been held at such places as Chuck E. Cheese, Tyler's Tender, Jeepers and the bowling alley or sometimes at our house.
These days, birthdays are usually celebrated three times. Once with a party for the birthday boy and his friends. Then with a family party where his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins come. A third celebration is at home with just mom, dad and the brothers on the actual date of the birthday with cake and ice cream if it doesn't happen to be when one of the other parties is scheduled.
It took several years for it to sink in that I was overdoing it because of what I missed in my own childhood. I also recognize that I've taken this approach when it comes to clothes, vacations and extra curricular activities.
The only problem is that once you set a precedence, it's hard to retract it. Slowly, I'm scaling back on things on the family party and limiting the number of kids invited to the kid parties. I'm baking more of my own cakes. I'm finding ways to make it less work. And I'm trying to make it more about them and what they will enjoy rather than trying to make up for what I missed out on.
I've probably leaned a little toward overdoing it. Ok, maybe a lot toward overdoing it. One thing I've done this with is birthday parties. When I was a child I attended lots of fun birthday parties of classmates - or heard about ones that I hadn't been invited to. I always longed for elaborate birthday parties, but it was never in the budget. Our birthdays were celebrated on a weekend close to the actual date with my three older siblings and their significant others (and later my nieces) as guests. We'd have cake and I'd open presents. It was a good time. I always felt special on that one day when I got to open gifts (usually clothes) and got to blow out the candles.
However, it never felt satisfying. I wanted to have friends included. I wanted to hang streamers from the ceiling. I wanted to have games and prizes and goodie bags. But no matter how hard I begged, it didn't happen. One year, I decided to have a party and invited a few neighborhood friends. I don't remember if I clued my mom in on it or took care of the arrangements on my own. I think it was mostly my doing because I recall pulling coins out of my piggy bank to go to the store and buy a cake mix to bake the cake. All I had enough for was a box of jello mix, so I served jello and tried to prop a candle up in it.
Later on, when I was 11 or 12, I talked my parents into letting me have a pool party. I picked out a couple friends and my dad dropped us off at the community pool. Although it wasn't for my birthday, I once convinced them to let me have a sleepover party, which was a blast. And one Halloween I had a party that I planned out myself. I was 10. I prepared the games and homemade decorations. It's one of my fondest childhood memories and nearly 3 decades later, old friends still remember that Halloween party. I loved entertaining and I still do.
It was apparent on my oldest son's first birthday that I was going overboard. I ordered a custom cake with big bird to go along with the theme and a smash cake, put up a ton of decorations, planned games for his older cousins, made up goodie bags, had a banner made to put up in the back yard, rented a jump house, got a pinata and even rented a helium tank to fill up balloons. It was his first birthday. It's not like he was even enjoying it. He napped through most of his party.
Later parties were much of the same. One year, we had a Toy Story theme that included a retired cowboy doing rope tricks. Once his brother arrived I had to tone it down a bit. But as they got older I also added a kid party where they could invite friends. They've been held at such places as Chuck E. Cheese, Tyler's Tender, Jeepers and the bowling alley or sometimes at our house.
These days, birthdays are usually celebrated three times. Once with a party for the birthday boy and his friends. Then with a family party where his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins come. A third celebration is at home with just mom, dad and the brothers on the actual date of the birthday with cake and ice cream if it doesn't happen to be when one of the other parties is scheduled.
It took several years for it to sink in that I was overdoing it because of what I missed in my own childhood. I also recognize that I've taken this approach when it comes to clothes, vacations and extra curricular activities.
The only problem is that once you set a precedence, it's hard to retract it. Slowly, I'm scaling back on things on the family party and limiting the number of kids invited to the kid parties. I'm baking more of my own cakes. I'm finding ways to make it less work. And I'm trying to make it more about them and what they will enjoy rather than trying to make up for what I missed out on.
My writing exercise
Last week I attended the Hallmark Blogging Tour along with several other mom bloggers. The day included some interactive fun, including a creative exercise by one of Hallmark's writers. We were given envelopes with about 50 little pieces of paper with random words printed on them. We were to pick three or four words and then had about five minutes to come up with a blog entry using those words. I wrote about a day at my part-time job as a newborn photographer at a hospital. Here's my entry with the words I picked in bold:
The work day wasn't staring out well. Moms were sleeping or in the shower. Doctors were seeing patients. One little boy was going down to be circumcised. I'd been in eight rooms so far and hadn't photographed a single baby.
One mom was expecting dad within an hour and they'd then be discharged. I stopped in a couple more rooms and had some lunch then made it back down trying to time it right. I knew a nurse would be going in to do a teaching and you never know how long that will take.
I popped back in the room and mom was up and dressed and at the sink with a little blue-eyed blond girl. They were holding hands at the sink as mom dried the little girl's hands. "Dad will be right back," said mom. The little girl giggled at the sight of her new brother. It's a big contrast between being an only child and having a sibling. Whenever I encounter a sibling in a room, I never know how they'll react. More often than not, the siblings shy away at that age. She was just 2. When I asked her age, I was sure she'd say 3. She was so talkative and interested and gentle. She seemed well beyond the active 2-year-old mode.
As the baby fussed, she held a bottle, giving him a few sips to calm him down. He drifted off. The bottle slipped out and she moved in for a kiss. I almost forgot the camera was in my hand. I was lost in the moment - watching a little girl become a big sister.
The work day wasn't staring out well. Moms were sleeping or in the shower. Doctors were seeing patients. One little boy was going down to be circumcised. I'd been in eight rooms so far and hadn't photographed a single baby.
One mom was expecting dad within an hour and they'd then be discharged. I stopped in a couple more rooms and had some lunch then made it back down trying to time it right. I knew a nurse would be going in to do a teaching and you never know how long that will take.
I popped back in the room and mom was up and dressed and at the sink with a little blue-eyed blond girl. They were holding hands at the sink as mom dried the little girl's hands. "Dad will be right back," said mom. The little girl giggled at the sight of her new brother. It's a big contrast between being an only child and having a sibling. Whenever I encounter a sibling in a room, I never know how they'll react. More often than not, the siblings shy away at that age. She was just 2. When I asked her age, I was sure she'd say 3. She was so talkative and interested and gentle. She seemed well beyond the active 2-year-old mode.
As the baby fussed, she held a bottle, giving him a few sips to calm him down. He drifted off. The bottle slipped out and she moved in for a kiss. I almost forgot the camera was in my hand. I was lost in the moment - watching a little girl become a big sister.
Dear sons: Don't be lazy
Letter #4
Dear sons:
One lesson that I've tried to teach you and I hope you've paid attention is the importance of working hard. I could offer a dozen chiches about how anything worth having is worth working for. It often falls upon deaf ears when relaying it to an 8-year-old who would rather play video games.
There isn't an easy way to success in life. You have to work hard for it. It doesn't fall in your lap. I want you to have drive and ambition and want to be successful. I want you to know that laziness won't get you far. Not that I think you're lazy. I understand that as children you're motivated by different things. I don't blame you for wanting to play rather than work. Who wouldn't rather play than work? And I want you to enjoy your years of playtime because once you hit adulthood, there's much more work than play. I just wonder sometimes if I'm doing a good job and preparing you and teaching you balance. If you work hard, you'll get to play hard.
Remember that when I'm telling you to take out the garbage or do the dishes, I'm teaching you lessons and preparing you for things. Dive in and do the work you need to do, even if it is as mundane as doing dishes. Having a good attitude will get you far. But that's a whole other blog for another day.
Dear sons:
One lesson that I've tried to teach you and I hope you've paid attention is the importance of working hard. I could offer a dozen chiches about how anything worth having is worth working for. It often falls upon deaf ears when relaying it to an 8-year-old who would rather play video games.
There isn't an easy way to success in life. You have to work hard for it. It doesn't fall in your lap. I want you to have drive and ambition and want to be successful. I want you to know that laziness won't get you far. Not that I think you're lazy. I understand that as children you're motivated by different things. I don't blame you for wanting to play rather than work. Who wouldn't rather play than work? And I want you to enjoy your years of playtime because once you hit adulthood, there's much more work than play. I just wonder sometimes if I'm doing a good job and preparing you and teaching you balance. If you work hard, you'll get to play hard.
Remember that when I'm telling you to take out the garbage or do the dishes, I'm teaching you lessons and preparing you for things. Dive in and do the work you need to do, even if it is as mundane as doing dishes. Having a good attitude will get you far. But that's a whole other blog for another day.
Friday, October 7, 2011
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