Tuesday, August 21, 2012

I just signed up for a study of women in my age group and walking. According to the gal running the study, my goal should be 150 minutes of moderate exercise per week. She also tells me that I should sustain this for the rest of my life. 

150 minutes?!?! 

Mind you, this 150 minutes is "moderate" exercise. That means my warm-up, stretching, cool-down, etc don't count. Only the time I am exercising at a "moderate" pace. For the study, I had to learn what "moderate" exercise is. I'll just be honest, I've been doing about 30 minutes of "moderate" exercise a week. 

150 minutes?!?!

There are so many days when I don't even find the time to eat lunch or go to the bathroom in a reasonable amount of time. There are so many days when chasing the kids to dinner feels like exercise. How on earth will I find 150 minutes a week? I can't even seem to find time for sleep. If I had an extra 150 minutes, I would dedicate it to sleep. 

For the study, I have to track my exercise and the "moderate" part has to last for at least 10 minutes or it doesn't count. This seems like tracking my eating or keeping to my budget; something designed just to remind me I'm failing. 

Let's be honest, I take off my shoes the minute I get home for a reason. I'm done. That one step into my house is one giant leap for the end of my day. I take my shoes off to signify that I'm ready to put my feet up. As I get older, I take off more and more when I walk in the door. I've added my jewelry to the pile I remove at the door. Recently, I've added my pants. Sweat pants just seem sooooo appealing. I've seen my future. A friend who is 20 years older stayed with me. When she walked in the door, the first thing she said was, "hang on. I just can't wear clothes for another minute." 

Going home, putting on different clothes, getting the kids into some sort of stroller or whatever, and then going back out to exercise seems to me an impossibility. Seriously? She wants me to trade my pile of chocolates and Law and Order for a "moderate" walk around the neighborhood? Is she insane? 

Sigh. I know I have to do this. I know I need to learn to exercise and how to fit it into my life. I will do it. I'll make this plan and follow the guidelines for the study. I'll exercise.

Exercise is important. I know. My health is important. Teaching my kids healthy living is important. But according to Cosmo magazine, a bubble bath to relax is important too. According to my mom, scrubbing the kitchen floor is important. According to my boss, the report due Friday is important. According to my kids, playing princess is important. According to my doctor, eating right is important. According to my therapist, meditation is important. According to me, going to the bathroom and sleeping are important. 

But sh. Sh. Everybody be quiet. Law and Order is on and I have a new bag of peanut butter chocolates. 

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Monday, August 20, 2012

Todd Akin's comments on "legitimate rape": When we look at our legislators, there is no reason for people who hold these beliefs to get this far. These are the beliefs of people in other countries who commit human rights abuses. These are the beliefs of those who we feel justified in attacking because they are "religious extremists". These are not the beliefs of people who stand for the rights of all people within a democracy. 

I like this opinion on the comments of Todd Akin. It talks about his follow-up where he says he "misspoke".

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/compost/post/legitimate-rape-and-tod...

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Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Category: Motherhood
Thursday, August 9, 2012

With this divorce and custody battle, I constantly feel like I'm running behind. It seems that about once a week, I get labeled "naive". I remember saying to my lawyer at the very beginning, "we are both reasonable, we can just sit down, talk about it, and be done."  Luckily, that thought makes me smile now. But, I had no idea that my divorce and custody battle would be a multi-year odyssey that would last longer than the marriage and have far more consequences.

I was not prepared. In my mind, a divorce is something that people decided together and they worked out the details together and moved on. Does the word "Pollyanna" come to your mind too?

Sadly, (or happily, depending on how you look at it) my Pollyanna attitude continues. As a result, I come across wonderful resources, articles, thoughts, etc. and I am constantly thinking, "wow. I wish I had heard that a long time ago."

I just hope that if we spread some of these links around, more people will see them in time for their needs. Good luck to everyone going through their own trials.

Here's a great article to help women think about moving on after divorce. This is one area I feel very lucky. My marriage was pretty short. But I know that a lot of women are trying to figure out how to move on after dedicating a lot of their life to their marriage. Here are some really good ideas:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/alison-patton/what-smart-women-do-after_b_1307356.html?ref=divorce

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Monday, August 6, 2012

I have heard a lot of rhetoric about what single moms are like. Here's what it is really like. From one of the single mom groups I’m in. These ladies are wonderful and really have it going on.

 

You know you’re a single mom when…

…you wish your fingernails and toenails would stop growing because it’s too hard finding time to cut them.

… you successfully go pee, wipe, and wash your hands with a nearly sleeping one-year-old attached to your breast.

…you have an audience in the restroom (although I’m pretty sure this one is all moms).

…you feel sick, head pounding, fever, and possibly expelling from both ends and you still have to worry about what’s for dinner.

…you shop and every single thing you bought is for your child.

…the value of a day is based on the amount of screaming.

…you live on hot dogs or spaghetti for several days because it is all you can afford.

…any thought of money makes you think of the amount of diapers you can buy. (example: When my childless friends say “I spent $100 getting my hair done”, I immediately think, “wow! I could buy 2 boxes of diapers and a large case of wipes for that.”)

…you see coupons and feel like you’re holding gold.

…”you…”

…you can’t finish a thought because your kid distracts you.

…hanging out with another single mom without kids seems like a luxury.

…you can’t eat junk food because your kid will want some.

…you refuse to take a nap because of the mess you will wake up to.

…your married friends have to take care of their children without their spouse for a day or two and proclaim, “I don’t know how you do this every day?!?”

…someone asks about your “other half” and you start rattling on about your toddler.

…long, hot baths were traded for quick, cold showers.

…date night consists of McDonald’s and a Red Box cartoon with your kids and you enjoy every second.

…you don’t know what it means to sleep in even on your days off.

…you clean the house when your kid is in the high chair eating. (It’s the ONLY time you can.)

…you’re annoyed by two parents who can’t keep their 3 kids from fighting in public.

…you look at your child support case and cry about how much your ex owes and what you could do with that money.

…you look forward to custody/visitation court because you know your ex will pay child support that month.

…you think you’re forgetting something if you’re not carrying at least two bags, a toddler, keys, a camera, and talking on the phone.

…you spend your once-in-a-lifetime child-free night calling to check on your kids every 5 minutes and thinking about them.

…you want to take a longer shower but wonder what that will do to your water bill.

…you hear your child cry and go to check on them, realizing you forgot they weren’t home for the night.

…you’re so exhausted you put your keys in the fridge.

…you’re so tired you throw the clothes away and put trash in the clothes hamper.

…your kids start saying dada and have no idea what it means.

…your day is a constant strategy for how to get everything done and still have fun with the kids.

…your day revolves around nap time.

…you can’t remember the last time you put make-up on.

…you have the child support hotline number saved in your phone.

…you can maneuver two suitcases, a stroller, a carseat, your purse, a diaper bag, and one or more uncooperative children through airport security, through the terminal, and to your gate by yourself in less than the time it takes someone else to figure out how much stuff they have to take out of their bags before going through security.

…you wake up with a butt in your face, a foot up your nose, an elbow in your rib, and you’re lying in something wet.

…Your place is decked out in pink and no one gives you crap about it.

…you’ve figured out how to make 3 lbs of hamburger last for 6 meals.

…everything you own is either broken, missing pieces, or colored on.

…you would like to date, but you think of how much money it would cost for a sitter and maybe paying your part and driving…

…you never taste food because you are scarfing down your food insanely fast to take care of whatever the screaming is.

…you look forward to a good night of sleep as much as you USED to look forward to a good night of partying.

…going to the grocery store without your kids is a vacation.

…pooping is a mini-vacation.

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Monday, July 30, 2012

This weekend, I picked wild blackberries with my kids. For dessert, I made milkshakes with those blackberries and homemade ice cream. Then, I made my own invitations for the kids' birthday party.

Then, I sat down and wondered when I became a pioneer, trying to build my life in a modern-day homestead act model.

Don't get me wrong. I have used a hammer. In the past, I built myself a workshop. I have sewn things, built things, cooked things, and grown things. But, I am a mom of small children and have a full-time job making a reasonably salary. So, why am I spending my time building, cooking, foraging, and living off the land of my yard?

Well, ok, I'm really not. But do-it-yourself, or DIY, has become sort of a given. And I'm confused.

Frankly, some of the ideas on Pinterest are just dumb. I saw a listing for turning the clips from skirt hangars into chip clips. What a bizarre idea. Not only does that take a lot of effort to make, but you waste perfectly good hangers, which I often have trouble finding. On top of that, you get chip clips everywhere. They hand them out all over the place. And in a pinch there's everything from paper clips to clothes pins. Who needs more clips?

But I think the very fact that people are trying to make their own of commodities that are abundant says something about our society right now. Why is Pinterest popular?

Is it the economy? Everyone is trying to save a dime, so they are making their own things to save cash? Are we all so stressed that we are thinking back to a different time that seemed somehow simpler? (Although, I am not sure that DIY is simpler.)

I don't know what the answer is. But there is something satisfying in DIY. Taking berries we picked and mixing them with ice cream we made somehow delighted both me and the kids. It made the milk we added feel somehow crass. Like we should have milked our own cow for that.

And making our own was just a lot more fun. Going to the milkshake place to get milkshakes can be fun. But making our own is different. And we all loved picking our own berries, feeling them squish in our fingers, eating half of them before we added them. We loved making the ice cream, seeing it go from liquid to solid. And those milkshakes tasted wonderful!

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Thursday, July 26, 2012

As a child, I wandered the neighborhood. My friends were the kids who lived closest to me. I could wander out of the house, down the street, and to a friend's house. We could grab our bikes and head to the store with our allowance. We walked to school. At dinner time, the neighborhood moms would call out into the general neighborhood for their kids. We would all go home when it started to get dark.

I learned to make sounds with grass blades, watch bees work, and light ants on fire with a magnifying glass. I got plenty of exercise. Most days were spend playing impromptu sports that only our group of friends understood the rules of. We rode our bikes a lot. We chased each other. We ate popsicles walking down the street.

My parents knew the other parents in the neighborhood. They knew who to call on the phone if yelling out the front door didn't produce me fast enough. They talked to each other, supported each other, and would sit down together to talk to a whole group of us when we got into trouble.

I had a great relationship with my neighborhood and life in general. I climbed fences, rocks, and trees. We were monkeys.

My children will never know this experience. Even if I allow them outside to play, who will they play with? The children across the street from us are the same ages as my children, but we never see them. They are not allowed outside their house and privacy-fenced yard if not strapped into their car seats.

The parents in the neighborhood are a relative mystery. My children play with other children in living rooms based on driving. They don't walk around unsupervised. They would be the only chidlren walking around our neighborhood. Someone would probably call the police and report them lost.

My children don't ride their bikes without me. As a child, my world was completely different from the world of my parents. My world had wonderful, mysterious areas to it. Hard as I try, I am no longer a child. I can't provide that for them. And since my children are prevented from exploring on their own, I effectively prevent them from finding that mystery.

I feel like my children are missing out on something important. I feel like the independence, creativity, and pure joy I had as a child in my neighborhood has been robbed from my children.  But it is me stealing this from them. Me and all the other parents. Are our children really safer? Is it worth the loss for us to feel like our children are safer?

There is also some argument that we are creating depressed and anxious children. I don't know what we are creating, but I believe we need to start thinking about this change.

Check out the map in this article. It shows the narrowing field of exploration for children in 4 generations of one family. It's fascinating. After all, don't we want to give our children the world?

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-462091/How-children-lost-right-roam-generations.html#ixzz1ywZBP0EF

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Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Lately, I seem to be on a "parenting advice from the Huffington Post" kick. But, honestly, I have been saying for a very long time, "as a new parent, don't read anything and don't listen to any advice. You will figure it out." Now, I have found a source who agrees with me, and isn't that what the internet is all about?

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/peggy-drexler/the-insecurity-generation_b_1702095.html?utm_hp_ref=homepage

"Despite popularity and acclaim, most child-rearing experts don't account for different personalities, growth patterns, and situations. And that's their fatal flaw. You can find a recipe in a cookbook and expect that if you get the ingredients and follow the instructions, most likely you'll wind up with a decent dish. It's different with kids."

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Friday, July 6, 2012

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lisa-belkin/parenting-philosophies_b_1653643.html

I would so love to get to a point where we can accept each other's parenting styles without so much judgement.

"It's time to bring back what Winnicott actually meant -- a parent who adapts to a child's needs as they grow, gradually loosening the ties as the child gains confidence and independence. Key to his philosophy is the idea that the "right" way to parent differs from child to child, parent to parent and moment to moment. Accepting this would go a long way toward lifting the judgement that makes so many of today's parents certain that they are doing something "wrong.""

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Hi. I'm Shelly and this is Isis, my introduction to the world of parenting. I'm not claiming to be a Parenting Expert. In fact, I'm mostly laying claim to my parenting failures. Failure is what happens when you try to do everything RIGHT as a parent. Yet, somehow, she is turning out to be a fairly cool little person....who throws crayons.

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