This is the stuff that favorite childhood memories are made of. These are the moments that cast bonds between fathers and sons that transend the body and tie the spirit.
On this father-son day, it was the water that brought God into the moment.
A Crazy Idea
You can read the LA Parent version of this post HERE
Babysitters 101
OK, you’re convinced ~ after my last compelling post ~ that you need to amp up your love life. Yes….with your husband! It’ll be good for you, your hubby and most of all your kids, who will see their parents in love and will then, in turn, choose someone to marry who embodies that ideal and who they will expect to looooove their entire lives. One of the whole points of a happy life, right?
(Or. If you’re single, then you need someone to give you an occassional break so you can have an adult conversation, a girl’s night out and maybe even meet the actual Mr. Right instead of that guy that was pretending to be him.)
But. Who will watch the kids while you paint the town in crimson hearts accompanied by harps and violins? (Or shake that groove thang in your sequin capris?) If your family lives far away, or is just not available, you may have to find a babysitter. But, is it really worth the effort?
I have one friend who told me, a few years ago, when I shared with her that I had gone on a date with my husband at a time when my kids were still pretty little that she and her husband hadn’t gone out in years. She said their dates consisted of sitting on the couch and maybe watching a movie on TV. I found out recently that they’ve since divorced. He cheated with ~ then married ~ her best friend, who went out all the time, ha ha.
OK, that’s an extreme example. But it does happen. Maybe we don’t divorce immediately but those of us who don’t put energy into our relationship can languish in a murky sea of boredom and dissatisfaction. Who wants that? And it’s scary to think that every 13 seconds a couple does divorce.
If getting a sitter is the solution to a harmonious household or a merry, mellow mommy, then what are we waiting for?
Here’s the how-to list….
Ways to find a babysitter:
- Ask around
- Check babysitting websites: Sittercity or Care are good bets and you can even run background checks
- Jen’s List is also a great resource
The first thing you can obviously do, is ask around. Which of your friends has someone whom they love? That can be a little tricky though. Because, if you start using them on a regular basis it could cause a conflict with your friend’s babysitting needs. This actually happened to me. I was so excited about my sitters that I started sharing their information with everyone that might need one including all my MOMs Club friends ~ which meant she could never babysit when I needed her. So ideally it would be best to find your own sitter. And only share her info with very close friends who will sign in blood not to use her on the nights you need her. One gal I did find from a friend (who wasn’t using her much), Emily, is this amazing 16 year old who works 3 part-time jobs ~ between school ~ with great enthusiasm. When I asked her how much she would charge to watch my kids, she said it didn’t really matter because she loved hanging out with kids so much. Really? Wow.
I’ve also had great luck in two places online: Sittercity and Care. I prefer Sittercity but I’m not sure why. I’ve just had better luck there, I guess. When I first tried Sittercity I found a wonderful sitter, Tabitha. I was 6 months pregnant and already had an 18 month old boy who wanted to do anything except sit and listen. Mommy’s swollen feet just weren’t up for the chase so Tabitha was able to help me 2x a week. (Mommy was not feeling up to dating daddy too much at that point). Tabitha moved on to a more regular position as a nanny but now I have three other great gals in rotation (because when you need someone, you need someone). One of my sitters, Desiree is a volunteer fighfighter EMT who is in nursing school. Total tomboy, loves to play with my rambuncious boys. Another, Lindsey was president of her high school and is now studying PR at Boston University. She sits for us in the summers when she’s back home (like now!). And the third, Allison (the one my friends stole) works at the CA Cartwheel Center and is studying to be an Occupational Therapist.
These girls are more qualified to watch my kids than I am!
When you place an ad online, you can get many responses. Do yourself and them a favor and listen to your gut. You don’t have to interview them all. If she seems flaky on the website, she’s probably even worse in person. And if the picture she submitted shows her partying with her friends, you might consider passing on that one too. Do an initial phone interview before you meet in person. Make sure she can accomodate your scheduling needs. If you decide to have her come meet you, have her bring a casual resume with a list of references. You have to ask for this because most won’t think to do this and time is a-wasting! it’s a good idea to have the kids there while you talk to her so you can see how she interacts with them. It’s a great sign if she offers to help you with whatever comes up while you’re talking to her i.e. she helps distract one of the kids while you answer the phone or includes your child in a quick conversation. You want her to actually like children. The caretaker websites offer a list of suggested questions for the interview. Scan the ones that are important to you, like: what would you do if my child got hurt while you were watching them and how would you handle it if one brother tried to impale the other with his lightsaber? You know. The usual.
You can also try Jen’s List, which is btw, an amazing, free, local resource for parents who like to do stuff with their family. Jen’s List has a seperate section for nannies and babysitters referred by other Jen’s List subscribers so you have a built-in reference and they’re usually willing to talk to you and answer any questions you may have about their posting. And if they’re taking the time to post, then you know they love her.
You’ll know right away if a girl is a good fit for your family. Don’t feel guilty if she’s not. Just be polite and thank her for coming. During one of my babysitter searches, I couldn’t win between the aspiring models who showed up to the interviews in stage make-up to the dominatrix who showed up in thigh-high stiletto boots. To play with kids, really? (she looked normal in her picture) But this last round, every girl was a winner.
In my babysitting job ads, I ask for someone who will play with the boys instead of watch TV with them. I ask for someone who is willing to do small chores around the house while the boys sleep. Things like, laundry, folding clothes, dishes, straightening stuff up and restoring the play area to it’s original (or better) condition. All the girls that work for me, do all of this. Yes, they’re college girls so you have to actually ASK them to do the things you want done. Don’t set yourself up for disappointment by assuming it will just be done when you get home. Say things like, “I would so love it if you could fold the laundry when the boys go down.” And, “It would really, really help me if you could do all the dishes and wipe the counters when you have time.” You have to ask and if you ask with sweet enthusiasm, you’ll feel better about it and so will they.
How much should you charge? And what should you have her do? Now this part is purelly a subjective call. Babysitters are asking outrageous amounts to play with your kids and watch TV while they sleep. For some reason, they think they are entitled to it because having them at your house is worth a lot of money. To them at least. I’ve found that the babysitters who ask for more than $12 an hour are usually too entitled to even do a good job for me.
I pay most of my sitters $10 an hour. One gets $12. And they are happy with that. Yes, I usually give a little more at the end of the night, for instance, I round up from the hour in which we came home. Or just give her a $5 or $10 bump if it’s close to the end of the hour. But the agreement is for $10 an hour and that’s how you weed out the hard workers from the entitled ones. You don’t want an entitled girl. No one is going to make a living from babysitting for you, it’s just extra money so don’t feel like you need to support them. And going out shouldn’t run you $500 by the end of the night. It’s a tough economy.
Check her references if you like her and if she shines, put her in your smartphone. That way you have a string of girls and you can know in minutes whether they are available or not the day or night you need them.
Those are the basics, at least, for me. Did I forget something?
Secret Dates
Living Life On the Sidewalk
How many of us are waiting for something to happen so our “real” life can begin? When I graduate from college then my life can start. When I get married, when I have a baby, when I get that job, when we move into that new house….I know I fall into this category. Over and over again. I’m always waiting for the next big thing to happen so my life can really start.
Yesterday I shared a moment with my children when they discovered caterpillars on the park sidewalk.
I’m not sure if they too are already fantasizing about the day their “real” lives will begin (though I do hear Kaleb say things like, “Mommy when I turn five, then can I watch Power Rangers?” ~ he just turned four!) but it was at that moment that I realized that this was my actual life and it was already happening! I’ve done most of the stuff on my list: I graduated from college. I had a fulfilling career. I met an amazing man and married him. I had two incredible children and inherited one from my husband. My life is on. There is no reason to keep delaying my full appreciation of it.
I recently heard that people don’t realize that they’re happy until the moment’s over. That made me so sad. It made me want to horde every moment so I can use every bit of it up while I still had it. Everything changes. Sometimes not fast enough, sometimes much too fast. But once it’s gone, it’s just a memory. I’m going to try and make my memories ones of moments I don’t regret not appreciating.
Kaleb Turns One
Kaleb is one.
365 days of inching his way to take a bigger portion of space in this world and in our hearts.
That is crazy. When they say it happens fast, they don’t lie. He’s practicing a new word: no. He’s been shaking his head no since one night when we were taking a bath, maybe 2 months ago (the baby book didn’t have a line for ‘when he first said no’ so I can’t remember exactly when) and I asked if he was ready to get out. He shook his head no and that began the first instance of him communicating with me in a comprehensive fashion.
Since then, he’s started pointing at things he wants or where he wants us to take him or wants to know what they are. He’ll sometimes make sounds that resemble a drunk’s slurred “What’s that?” I try to encourage enunciation but he ignores me. Or just laughs.
Here are a few highlights since I haven’t had a chance to post since NOVEMBER.
He’s crawling now but it took a while:
Daddy tried to help:
Now crawling’s a snap. His favorite place to crawl is on the changing table – while I’m trying to change him with a big poop still stuck to his tushy.
He started expressing himself facially before he ever started saying any words. Here is how he began to express his displeasure with us.
He’s still not really napping and my mom is a godsend, she comes once a week (sometimes we’ll kidnap her for a few days, yay!) so I can at least wash my hair and get some stuff done. No, he’s still not napping more than 1/2 an hour if that. Unless I’m in the car, of course….
For some insane reason I thought it would get easier as he got older. Well, I know what I’m doing now (at least that I won’t drop or break him) but the problem is (and by problem I mean gift)….that he is growing at light speed.
Superheros
Sometimes I think if I could skip eating and going to the bathroom – I’d have more time to do other stuff. Stuff that’s gotten neglected because Kaleb’s average nap time these days is about half an hour……
I thought, I hoped and secretly prayed the day we introduced solid foods to him at 6 months, THINGS would be different: I would get more than 2 hours of uninterrupted sleep – I would have a chance to finally finish my thank you cards from my baby shower – I could maintain order in the house – I could call some friends – I could squeeze a yoga workout in – I could WRITE and submit stuff to be published like I was doing while I was pregnant – I could wash my hair…..oh the dreams kept piling and my expectations of the moment solids first hit the lining of his bottomless pit kept growing…until the moment came and…..
…nothing happened….
Well, not immediately anyway. You may have noticed that I am indeed writing right now (dishes undone and, uhm, some other stuff). I’ve even gotten the chance to make some pressing phone calls and still he sleeps. It’s been over an hour. I have to pinch myself.
Every once in a while I do get the gift of time. It didn’t happen right away but sometimes now I get an hour or (gulp) two! to spend any way i wish.
Don’t get me wrong, please, I love being Kaleb’s mother. LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT. I always dreamed that no matter how high-powered my career would be (which ended up more on the caring side instead of the high-powered one), I would spend the earliest, most formative years of my kids’ lives molding their silly-putty little brains into the musical, mathematical, analytical, eloquent and charming geniuses they would become. The world needs some heroes and I was determined to produce them.
Now, though – I’m thinking – maybe….that’s a little too much pressure to put on a 7-month old child. Maybe we could just just start by going to our developmental playgroup and making some art.
We could do experiments in crazy outfits.
We could wear beads and philosophize about life.
Maybe it’ll be enough that my son is a good, happy person that cares about others. Maybe that’ll be enough to make him a hero to somebody and it doesn’t have to be to everybody. I mean – if a person like Obama can’t be a hero to everybody – an open-minded, intellectual risen from the depths of food stamps and a racist society – it just shows there are too many everybodys to satisfy them all.
And speaking of Obama – during the Democratic Convention they aired a documentary that talked about Obama’s mama – an outside the home worker – and how she used to get up at 4 in the morning with him to go over his studies.
4 in the morning.
I guess she wasn’t breastfeeding every two hours but still! I had to dig myself out from under this particular inferiority complex by realizing that I’m doing the best I can – Kaleb and I go to school three days a week. He has his little backpack with all his “learning tools” – maracas, bells, streamers, spiders on a stick – you know, the usual.
Sometimes, we’ll even do homework.
We read, we sing songs, we do tummy time but now it looks more like table time since he is preparing to crawl.
I do more stuff for him than anyone else in my life and I was gratified to hear, from actually my mother – who loves him like crazy and has plenty of baby experience – that he wasn’t an easy baby. Really? How could I know? I don’t have anyone to compare him to.
I was going to throw in another slideshow of “firsts” but I don’t want to overwhelm anyone with cuteness so be on the lookout for another blog soon (nap willing, that is!)
Kinda Camping
If you put your face close enough, these days, Kaleb may reach up and give it a squeeze. He may explore your cheeks with soft, tentative fingers and sometimes you might even get a heartbreaking giggle. And if you’re still standing, he’ll knock you over if he accompanies this burst of love with a cavernous display of his toothless gums. Or maybe that’s just me.
He’s really gotten very social lately. He smiles at strangers when they stop to compliment him in a store (as mommy tries to slyly back away from the nice, potential germ-carriers).
He used to cry when someone would stick their faces to close to his “turf” but no longer. He may glance at me for a quick smile of reassurance and then he’ll turn it on for his guest.
His mystery crying has stopped. I guess he’s old enough to start becoming a bigger part of this world (see previous entry). If he cries, there’s a tangible explanation. Mostly it’s because he’s tired. Mommy will sometimes lug him around because she’s still learning to live between nap times. Sometimes it’s hunger (And that’s a particularly loud one. No mistaking that one for say – boredom).
The hair blow dryer has become my best friend. Times when he’s too tired and fussy to sleep are quickly remedied with a 10 minute blast of rushing air (pointed away from the baby, of course!). I tried this as a potential remedy when I read that this “white noise” mimics the sound he heard in my womb. I don’t know, I wasn’t there but I’ll tell you – it works like a charm.
Turns out he’s a multi-tasker. He’s found his thumb and will suck on the little bitty thing whenever his heart desires. And sometimes it desires right in the middle of mealtime. Boob will compete with thumb for oral terrain. And sometimes he’ll miss his mouth and instead stick his thumb in or on his nose or maybe his eye. Occasionally it’ll end up in his ear.
We went camping last week. Well, kinda camping. We rented a motorhome so the baby would be more comfortable.
Now, I have always had very strong opinions about people who camp in motorhomes (Howard always laughs when I go down this road). When you have access to a bed and don’t have to walk across a campground in the middle on the night to pee, you’re not camping. When you can watch a DVD on a giant TV set and listen to the radio, you are not roughing it. I know some may disagree but I don’t care. If you don’t have to give up some of the modern conveniences to focus instead on the beauty of nature and your inner strength to endure it, what is the point of leaving your living room? Just make a day trip.
Anyway, we rented a pretty sweet 33-foot motorhome “for Kaleb’s sake.”
We parked it at our favorite surf beach in San Onofre.
Kaleb joined in on the fun.
Though his “board” is the land-locked training wheel version.
Our friend Rebekah came down to join us for the day.
And my college friend, Kelly also visited with her two little girls.
We made s’mores by the campfire.
We had a blast.
Camping is fun in a motorhome. Even if it’s not all that rough.
Kaleb the Sailor Man!
Today Kaleb is 14 weeks old. (that’s 3 months and six days for the laypeople)
And he is changing and growing. Fast. Too fast (see previous entry….).
When I first met him I thought he looked like a little Asian boy. Then he started to look like an Eskimo. I thought, who has Eskimo in their family? Then he started to fill in and started to look more Slavic . Which actually made sense since I am Russian and Howard has Polish in him. The outer edges of Kaleb’s beautiful, cobalt blue eyes have that Slavic upturned swing – like a dancing, drunk Russian.
What Shall We Do With the Drunken Sailor?
What Shall We Do With the Drunken Sailor?
What Shall We Do With the Drunken Sailor Early in the Morning?
At his three month check-up, the doctor told us he was 24 inches long (I think they say “long” until he can actually stand up – at which point he becomes “tall”). He was 14 lbs. and 8 oz. which puts him into the 75th percentile, down from the 85th percentile of last month. (85%! I couldn’t believe it when the doctor told me – and then the dr. called him chubby and said something about cellulite on his tushy – WHAT! – I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not – aren’t babies supposed to be chubby? at least they are in my family!). And his small head is still in the 35th percentile. He gets that from his daddy.
He laughs and giggles all the time now. At least in the morning. Or after he’s had a nap.
He talks up a storm. He says Ma-ma (or at least he puts those sounds together and I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt).
He sings with me when I sing to him – or when the iPod is playing he’ll sing along. (maybe I’ll video-tape this for next time).
He rolled over from his tummy to his back two days ago. Twice. (Or maybe he was just trying to get out of tummy-time).
He grabs at his hanging stuffed animals and sometimes swats at them when they’re not responding to his opinions the way he likes.
He’ll hold onto a stuffed bear now and will suck the fibers out of any blanket.
And sometimes when he’s giggling and cooing at me, he starts to get shy and tries to hide his head. If he starts to giggle after he eats, which he frequently does, because who doesn’t feel great after getting to eat your favorite food yet again (boob milk, my favorite, how did you know?) he’ll be giggling, get shy…and then try to hide his head beneath my booby. He’ll not know the irony of this for some time.
But at night (or even some afternoons) he still sometimes acts like he’s auditioning for the next Freddy Kruger flick. (How is he able to scream that loud and that long and not lose his voice? There may be future for him in Rock n Roll.)
And the beautiful thing is when I say he only sometimes uses his vocal chords as claws on a chalkboard, I do mean sometimes.
Some may call this “colic” – that mysterious ailment that had doctors previously giving drugs (anti-depressants and anti-spasmotics) to infants (!) to cure. But I read an article recently that said colic can start at two weeks, peak at 8 weeks and decline until it completely disappears at 12. I guess that must be a statistical average.
But why does it seem like some babies have it worse than others? I think I know. Or, I have a theory anyway.
I think when babies come into this world, they’ve just left G-d. They’re closer to that World than the one in which they find themselves. They stare intensly into “empty” air for lengthy periods of time and laugh at things no one else can see (angels? fairies?). And at times, they all experience a type of separation anxiety. It must be shocking to realize that they’re no longer there and instead find themselves with these strangers. Sure, they may be nice but when they’re that new, they must also have a clear memory of their most recent bond and connection to their Love and Creator. I believe “colic” is a spiritual malady.
I also think some babies just feel things on a much deeper level than others. It’s the emotional seedlings of the people they will become and some carry the echo of this mysterious loss into their adult lives (you know who you are). But when these babies first arrive into this world, they must have an insatiable yearning to return to that Love. It must literally feel like they’re going to die without that Love and they wail their frustration at having been abandoned, screaming out the injustice of it all. Then, they (we) start to forget (or the lucky ones anyway). And slowly – they start to also notice the new love being showered upon them by their new guardians: their parents. And eventually they calm down because they like it.
But – then again, it’s not like we can ask.
Please Don’t Grow
The first time I met my son I immediately fell in love.
Well, not immediately, if truth be told. Immediately I thought – “Who’s that?” after they laid his slippery body on my stomach and his face shot up to within inches of mine – and we looked at each other with mutual fear and surprise.
But later, as the pain became something I would gladly endure again and again to receive such an amazing reward (mostly because it was now a memory), I gazed on his sleeping form on the eve of our first night together and thought I’d never loved anyone so shamelessly and completely.
And I could tell he was an old soul – not just because he came with male-pattern baldness and a comb-over.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t want TIME to hurry up and get somewhere else.
All I wanted was to hold him and love him and have him in my arms. I wanted TIME to stop so he wouldn’t grow up and leave.
Other mothers have said in consolation that TIME brings new joys with children and that it just keeps getting better. Two months into Kaleb’s life (10 weeks and three days) – I believe them – but am happy to just enjoy what I have. Although….I have to admit I am really enjoying the awareness that TIME is bringing into my son’s life.
Last week, we were hanging out in Kaleb’s room, my iPod playing in the background, me putting away his laundry – him lounging on his changing pad. Suddenly, I heard coos and aahhs join the chorus to Jet’s ‘Are You Gonna Be My Girl?’ Yeah! I yelled and grabbed him up to dance with me. And we rocked out together.
For a few weeks now I’ve had a couple cute, stuffed animals hanging off the handrail atop Kaleb’s car seat. Mostly, they were for me. They looked adorable but he was completely unaware of them. A handful of days ago, he started engaging the black and white cow and the pink teething pig in an emphatic conversation. I’m pretty sure he’s convinced them to see things his way.
And on occasion, my soothing voice actually cuts through his senseless fussiness. And by fussiness I mean: brain shattering, throat ripping, heart piercing wails for which I’ve been given no translation guide. (That part hasn’t been as much fun). But kisses will sometimes now turn his heartaches into smiles. It’s the best.
Right now he’s mine. Or ours. Our little guy. And my worry is: when he gets older, I have to give him up. And of course I do. That’s my job: to raise him to be a self-sufficient adult and a kind and happy man. But that also means I’ll need to let him go. And I am already dreading this.
I’m already seeing it happen with my 10 year old step-son, Kyle and his father, my husband Howard. Just a couple short months ago, Kyle would turn his head away in disgust when he’d witness people kissing on television. “Ewwwwww,” he’d plead if it was us showing the affection.
But last Wednesday, he graduated from Elementary School. He’ll be attending Lindero Middle School next year. And before they sent them off, they gave them a 5th grade graduation dance. And he asked a girl to be his date. A girl….with no ewwws in the vicinity.
Howard suggested Kyle ask her if she’d like for them to pick her up beforehand. And Kyle almost immediately picked up the phone to call and ask her! With no hesitation. Wow. I was really impressed with his temerity.
Before talking to him, she made sure when she answered his call, that it was really him by quizzing him about things only he’d know (like his last name). Apparently, some not as mature 5th graders had been plaguing her with crank calls pretending to be him. After ascertaining that it was indeed her date, she informed him that she planned on going with her friends and she’d just meet him there.
Then Howard suggested he bring her flowers. “OK,” he said and went across the street to a vacant neighbor’s house in search of the perfect rose to clip off their bushes. Just like that. Again, I didn’t remember being so fearless with the opposite sex when I was his age…..or even when I was 30.
He went to the dance and we got to peek in and see him jumping up and down with the girl and their friends and later we heard there was a slow song that he danced to with his date. Again, wow. I couldn’t believe this was the same boy I had met four years ago, age 6!, now a budding pre-teen.
I am happy for Kyle because he seems more relaxed in his new awareness. But I am watching my husband’s pain as he grapples with the reality that next year they won’t be walking to school together every morning – as they have done since Kyle entered Kindergarden.
And now I understand.
Most Photos are provided by our photographer friend, Suzy Shearer (that’s why I’m in them). Thanks Suzy! (shearergs@aol.com for more info)