Spotlight on Healthy Moms

I am happy to announce that Midwest Moms is the spotlight blog on Healthy Moms Blog!





If you get a chance, be sure to head on over. Cascia, who writes Healthy Moms does a great job giving tips on raising healthy kids and helping parents keep ourselves sane and feeling great. She has news for parents, product reviews, and links to parenting blogs from all over.

Thanks, Cascia!

- Midwest Mom

Saving the Best for Last

Mom must be another word for rotten egg, because I am always the last one to the car.

My own mother suffered from the same problem. There were six children in my family, and my father is a compulsive early-bird. We would get ready and be sitting down for Easter Mass 90 minutes before it was ready to begin. We showed up to high-school graduations while they were still setting up the chairs on the lawn. We got sunburn from staking out a good spot for Fourth of July fireworks "nice and early."

Still, when I was a kid my Dad always jokingly complained about always having to wait for my mother. He would say that Mom had a psychological 'trigger' like Pavlov's dog -- all we had to do was say the word “Car” and she would have to go to the bathroom. He would have us all buckled up and the car running in the driveway, and she still wouldn't emerge from the house for at least five more minutes. Now that I am a mom of 3, I finally understand why.

When we are planning to go out, whether it is to go to church or the zoo or a ballgame or school, I start out like my father and end up like my mother.

The compulsive early-bird in me starts getting people ready at least 30 minutes before it is time to leave. My style is half caring mother, half paratrooper Captain. (Go! Go! Go!)

• I check to make sure no one is dirty. I make sure no one looks like a clown (non-matching clothes), a hobo (holes in the pants), a zookeeper (what's that smell?), or an auto-mechanic (stains from who knows where).
• I remind everyone to go to the restroom and to comb their hair.
• I help them find their missing barrette, jacket, sock, or shoe. I help them button, zip, buckle, and tie. If it’s cold, I find matching hats and mittens. If it’s rainy, I get the umbrellas.
• I pack a bag with snacks, water, wipes, hand sanitizer, more snacks.
• I tell them what toys they can and can’t bring (no, you may not bring the super-soaker in the car).

When I am finished, there are three tidy children lined up and waiting by the door. We are usually ready in plenty of time to make it to our destination with room to spare. The early-bird time-buffer remains intact. (If you are an early-bird, you know what I mean.)

30 seconds before it is time to go, my husband puts his shoes on and gets his keys. (Where has he been for the last half hour?)

Finally, once everyone is ready to go, I look at myself in the mirror. And magically, as they walk out the door, I transform into my mother.

It's amazing how getting it all done for the rest of the family can make you look like you've just been through a train wreck. It is equally amazing how consistently I choose to use the early-bird buffer to my own advantage. As my husband takes the family down the driveway to get into the car, I take a few minutes to do everything for myself that I just did for everyone else.

It is wonderfully refreshing to get yourself ready, wash your face, put on some lipstick, comb your hair, change that shirt that has remnants of your two-year-old's last meal, and yes use the restroom -- in silence. In that few minutes, I find I am able to relax and refresh. It feels good to turn over the task of strapping in the children to my husband. The house is so peaceful when there's no one else in it.

Do I care that the rest of the family is pondering my mysterious disappearance from their midst? Do I mind that they might be waiting at the edge of impatience? No, not really.

I do not rush. Instead, I give myself a few moments of peace. And when I finally walk to the car, I do not hurry nor do I apologize. I just make a modest entrance.

If I’m lucky, I’ll get a “Well, you don't you look nice…”

"Thank you," I say as I slip into the passenger seat. I think we'll arrive right on time.

-Midwest Mom

Time for Me: the Sisterhood of Moms

I desperately need a haircut. I have for at least three weeks. I have made (and cancelled) at least two appointments already. Because it's summer, I fool myself into thinking the pony tail holder is okay.

But glamorous, it is not.

This is one of the awful truths of my life, and maybe, of any Mom's life... We are constantly making time for everyone else's priorities, but when it comes to taking care of *ourselves*, we are pitiful.

I know a woman who folds everyone else's clothes, but dresses herself out of a basketful of clean laundry.

I know a woman who paints her daughters' toenails on a weekly basis, but when I gave her a gift certificate to go get a pedicure, it took her a whole year to use it.

And then there's me... with my quarterly haircut.

Lately, I've been asked for advice from three new moms I know. All are about 6 months in to first-time mothering. And all are at their wits end. They fret about fussiness and fevers, they wonder if they should worry about their child's weight, teething, which foods are best, how much formula to give. And of course, there are the diapers.

I've told each of them the same things.

1) Every first-time mom worries about exactly the same things you are. When we say, "Relax! Take time for yourself!" Don't believe that we're taking our own advice. Because the only way any of us learned what to worry about and not to worry about was to worry about everything in the beginning. If there is a brand new mom who is not asking the questions you are, guess what? They are not as good a mom as they imagine.

2) With that said, "Relax! Take time for yourself!" Ha.

No, seriously. I think one of the best things I ever found was that if I could take even 15 minutes to do something independent -- that made me feel like the strong woman I was before "the transformation," I felt so much better about life in general. For every person, this is a different thing.

For my own mother, it was a hot bath. I remember once or twice a week, her locking herself in the upstairs bathroom and coming out with a face as red as cooked lobster and smelling like perfume. Afterward, there was nothing that we six (yes, I said six) children could do that could bother her. She was restored.

For me, it is the time I take in my garden. You may wonder how weeding or planting or watering can help me... I'll tell you. It is the silence of it. My children are all of the age where they can play in the yard while I work. But, spending time in the garden a few times each week can bring me back from the edge. I like tending something living, solving solvable problems, and enjoying the benefits of growing something truly beautiful. There are no lasting consequences there, and I like that.

So, when I say "Relax! Take time for yourself!" understand that it may only be 5 or 10 minutes a day at first. People don't understand that a new mom has to remind herself to shower and dress in the morning. Do it, and do it faithfully.

3.) You will make mistakes. Be sure to be as gentle and forgiving with yourself as you plan to be with your child.

Every mom I know has had times when she thought she was the worst mother in the world. I remember, when my oldest was about three months old, I nicked his finger while cutting his nails. I tell you, there is nothing scarier than drawing blood on your own child. I distinctly remember calling my mother in tears, and going over everything that had happened, including my use of every disinfecting agent and ointment in the first aid kit. "Can I use a band aid on his finger? Will he eat it and choke?" I asked, frantic. It was at that moment that I realized I could never be a trauma nurse. I think, in terms of baby-care, it was my all-time low.

The good news is that babies have little or no long-term memory. So, as long as you can keep away from psychologically scarring abuse, you're good. So, abandonment is out --and No, that doesn't include letting him sit in his bouncy seat fussing for a few minutes so you can go into the bathroom by yourself. Come on.

4) Finally, I tell them that the best response to the almost soul-crushing frustration that a new mom feels is...

(drum roll, please...)

A good nap.

When you are well-rested, your perspective will magically return. It has worked for me and for countless thousands of other moms.

Which brings me to this: becoming a first time mom brings you into one of the toughest sisterhoods on the planet. All the logic and reasoning you learned to succeed on your own in the world will be turned on its head when you become a Mom. But the good news is: You are not alone! One of the best things I did as a first-time mom was to find a group of other moms. We met once a week, at each others' houses, under the pretense of a "playgroup". It was more of a "roll on the floor and drool group", but playgroup sounds better. That group helped me so much in ways I cannot even explain, but the greatest way was just getting rid of the isolation I felt.

I live in a new town now, but have found that the Sisterhood of Moms does, indeed, have a local chapter! We find ways to support each other, laugh together, cry together, and share our lives in the best times and the most difficult circumstances.

So, to my new mom friends, Welcome to the Sisterhood.

... will one of you babysit so I can go get my hair cut?


Midwest Mom

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Where would we be without DAD?

In our household, my husband has things pretty nice. At least, when I'm not really thinking about it, that's how it seems. You know, day to day. He has his laundry done and good food. He has children who think the sun rises and sets over him and a wife who misses him when he's away. Sounds like a pretty good life, don't you think?

But there are parts of his life that are, maybe, not so great. When you're a Dad, you find that there is a whole list of things that have, suddenly, become your job. Consider these.

1.) Home repair -- In our house, Dad has replaced carpeting, plumbing, plaster, moved walls, wired switches, repaired roofing, built 2 bathrooms, remodeled a kitchen, and just this week, dug a pit for a sump pump in the basement... waist deep... after breaking through the concrete slab with a sledge hammer. (Whew! I'm exhausted just thinking about it!)

2.) Dead Critter Removal -- The stinkiest, most disgusting job in any household comes when some unsuspecting creature kicks the bucket in an unexpected place. It could be the attic. It could be the yard. It could be inside the wall. When it happens, who do you call? Not Ghostbusters -- you call Dad.

3.) Dealing with an overtired Me -- I don't know about you, but when I get too tired (think about the first three months after having any of our children), I could cry at burnt toast. I could lose my temper at a broken shoelace. (And trust me, I do.) I have the tremendous blessing of a husband who will calmly make space for me to get some rest when I need it. And what a relief that is -- for all of us.

4.) Supporting our family -- He doesn't get summer vacation any more. He works every weekday and a couple weekends each month. When there are problems other people can't fix, they call him in the middle of the night. I give him his props for bringing home the bacon. He does honest, hard work every single day -- even when he doesn't feel like it. He is dedicated and consistent and that should never be taken for granted.

5.) Professional wrestling -- Can you imagine, after a day where you had a 5 a.m. meeting and worked your tail off until 6 p.m., coming home only to be pounced upon relentlessly by three wiggly, giggling children? Dad does that in our house. He plays tag and tickles and wrestles and wrestles and wrestles, even when I know he just wants to nap. ... And he does it with a smile.

So, honey, for the home repair and critter control, for supporting us and supporting me, and for making the children's lives full of happy times with their Dad, thanks. Actually, maybe thanks are not enough. Perhaps I'll say thanks and bake you a pie. :)

With all my love,

Midwest Mom