Monthly Archives: June 2011

Why the Effing Outrage? (language warning)

Dear readers:  There’s no way around it – this post contains edited versions of ‘THE “F” WORD.’  Personally, I think cursing is an ugly, ugly thing, but this post literally could not have been written without that word.  I apologize in advance for the potty-mouth – it is unbecoming, but necessary to this piece.


By now you’ve probably heard of “Go the F*ck to Sleep,” the over-the-top parody of a formulaic children’s book, authored by Adam Mansbach.  The title is obviously attention-getting, but the book itself is more than just gimmick:  the writing is pretty darn good.

The cats nestle close to their kittens

The lambs have laid down with the sheep

You’re cozy and warm in your bed, my dear

Please go the f*ck to sleep.

In case the title didn’t give it away, this isn’t a book for children – it is a book for their good-humored parents.  No, really, I had to say it – that point is apparently lost on some people.  More on that shortly.

We’ve all been there, haven’t we?  After a long, trying day, little one is finally setting in to bed.  We’ve rocked and cuddled, fed and sung, read a bedtime story or three, arranged the blanket just so and told our little one how loved he is as we bid him sweet dreams.  His eyes flutter and close, and we back out of the room, daring not even to breathe lest we wake him with an errant exhale.  Just as our mind begins to look forward to the well-deserved comfy couch, trashy television and glass of wine waiting downstairs, little one’s eyes pop open and he screams like he’s on fire.

We rush back in, check a diaper, we feel a forehead for fever, we tuck and pat and stroke.  We make sure he’s warm enough, dry enough, cool enough, comfy enough.  We rock, we sing, we comfort, we coo.  Everything is fine, and there is no reason for him to do anything but drift into a deep, deep slumber.  And finally the eyes flutter closed again.  Until he senses you leaving the room.  WAAAAH!

Wash.  Rinse.  Repeat.

Frustrating, isn’t it?  No matter how attached you are, no matter how married you are to the principles of gentle discipline, no matter if your name is Mother Effing Theresa (oops, that was a gratuitous Eff.  They’re like Pringles, you can’t have just one), that’s frustrating.  But that’s parenthood.  It’s what we all signed up for.

And that’s why this book is so brilliantly funny:  we can all relate to those five never-said but sometimes (often?)-thought words.  It is one of those universal parenting truths, like spit-up on a new blouse or a poo in the bathtub.  We’ve all been there and we’ve all persevered.  Solidarity.  We’re not alone.

Who can’t appreciate that?  Of course, there’s always someone.

On my way home from work tonight I listened to a guest host on one of my favorite radio shows who was OUTRAGED – absolutely clutching his pearls – over this book.  What has our society come to?  What is wrong with parents today?

Really?  I waited for the host to say “just kidding, I do have a sense of humor.”  But that never happened.  He claimed to have the ability to take a joke and he insisted that he was neither uptight nor old-fashioned, but nevertheless, he was outraged and offended by the book.  He saw the book as a sign of a society in trouble, a culture in decline.

I couldn’t disagree more.

There’s a rather refreshing honesty  in Go the F*ck to Sleep.  That’s the brilliance of the book:  the reader nods in agreement with each stanza while recalling a long, sleepless night.  The most forthright among us will own up to thinking those very words.   That doesn’t make a bad parent:  all kinds of emotions can boil behind the most tender outward demeanor.  I would argue that a better parent acknowledges his own emotions and controls them appropriately rather than bottling them and stowing them deep to fester.  And even the parent of the model child who is neither trying nor troubling can at the very least have an appreciation of the fact that parenthood is a tough job, and everyone copes with it differently.

If we’ve reached a place as a society where we can have that honest perspective, where we can laugh at ourselves, I think we’ve come along pretty well.  A far fry from a culture in decline.

Is that such an awful thing?

Readers:  what’s your take?  Are you offended by this book?  Don’t be afraid to disagree with me – I’d love to hear from an opposing point of view.  Is “Go the F*ck to Sleep” offensive?

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Resolutions: A Year Half Done

Somehow we are already halfway through 2011.  Maybe it is because our summer hasn’t really felt like summer thanks to some decidedly springlike weather, but the halfway point has come way too soon.  I thought this would be a good way to revisit my 11 for 2011 and see how my goals for this year are progressing.

The Good

  • We did the Great Toddler Road Trip!  Instead of California we went only as far as South Dakota, but it was the trip of a lifetime.  It taught me much about traveling with a toddler, and I’m ready to do it again.
  • We’ve been good on our “no fast food” promise.  We’ve slid only when we’ve had visitors who want to go to Oscar’s for their famous frozen custard.
  • I joined a book club.  It was not as great as I expected, so I’m now a book club dropout.
  • I’m a better cook now.  I’m a work in progress, but I’m improving.  Just don’t ask my husband about chicken alfredo.
  • I’ve definitely become less of a consumer.  I shop less, and I’m okay with that.  I’ve found quality in activities and interaction, not in things.  That’s a huge win.
  • And my biggest victory:  I do tell the people that I love just how much they mean to me.  I leave love notes for my husband every day so when he comes downstairs for his morning coffee he has a little something to make him smile.  I spend more one-on-one time with Jack doing wonderful things like biking and reading and snuggling.

The Bad

  • Running.  I am so disappointed in my running lately.  Ever since the humidity shot up, it is really, really hard to punch out a three mile run.  I’m slower, and I’m struggling more.  I’ve been keeping up my fitness by lifting weights, biking, doing alternative cardio and some vinyasa yoga, but I really wanted to be getting ready for a half marathon.  It isn’t happening.  I’m very disappointed in myself on this one.  Even so, there’s one thing I can’t do:  I can’t stop trying.

  • The canoe hasn’t hit the water yet.  We’re almost to July, and our canoe is as dry as a bone.  That is due partly to the weather, and partly to being so busy.  It will happen this year, it will.  It just hasn’t happened yet.

Still to Come

  • I haven’t done any rock climbing yet.  It was my Mother’s Day wish, but we ended up with other plans.  I am confident I’ll climb a rock before the year is out.
  • We’re working on visiting the new state parks.  We’ve visited two new ones so far, so we have three to go.  That won’t be hard.
  • We still have a lot of camping to do.  We camped on our trip to South Dakota, but we still have some Wisconsin Dells weekends to look forward to.

Looking back, it has been a full year so far.  We’ve grown as a family, we’ve had some great adventures, and we’ve learned a lot from one another.

How is 2011 treating you?

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Wordless Wednesday: Percolate

I love old stuff.  I love Pyrex.  I love coffee.

My husband found something that combines all three of my loves into one:  an old Pyrex coffee percolator.

Yum.  Now do me a favor and pretend that the percolator is sitting on an impeccably clean stove

I was so excited that I recorded a video of our first pot:  Coffee Percolating

We all have something we are a total dork over. What’s yours?

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Link your Wordless Wednesday here, and let’s exchange comments!

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Sunday Surf: Let the Wild Rumpus Begin

Happy Sunday!  This is the first weekend that we’ve had actual summertime weather here in Southeastern Wisconsin.  We have been enjoying our weekend to the fullest, and today is no exception:  it will be my first horseback lesson.  Yes, I am living the dreams of my twelve-year-old self.  There’s nothing wrong with that.

Despite this weird too-rainy, too-cold, very humid and occasionally tropical weather, our garden has been pretty amazing.  Every day things are looking bigger and better.

And now on to Sunday’s Surf:

This list of the top 100 children’s books inspired me to open up Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are for the first time since my childhood.  It is a good list, although I saw surprised to see that Dr. Seuss’ And to Think That I Saw it on Mulberry Street did not make the list.  I have always thought that was Dr. Seuss’ greatest contribution, far better than his more popular Cat in the Hat and One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.

Hybrid Rasta Mama has been all about coconut oil this week.  First she posted 80 Ways to use Coconut Oil, and followed up with a post answering readers’ questions about coconut oil.  In between reading these two posts I happened across an item on Pinterst on making coconut milk, and then a recipe for using coconut milk plus castille soap as a shampoo.  I’m taking all of this as a sign that I need more coconuts in my life.  I should probably start with a Bahama Mama.

Just West of Crunchy has been very busy examining what she calls the Ugly Side of Milk Donation.  She discusses the fact that Prolacta is profiting from turning donated mother’s milk into a profitable product sold to hospitals.  She directs a lot of her outrage at Prolacta, but I wonder whether the real culprit is the milk banks that don’t fully disclose their relationships with Prolacta and don’t make it fully clear that donated milk isn’t going directly to a  baby in need, as the donor mother might imagine.

I’m probably late to the game on this one, but I’ve never heard of a chicken pox party.  It makes sense, I guess.  I don’t know how to feel about it but I feel compelled to think on it.  Do any readers have strong opinions one way or another?

I finally purchased a Road ID.  I highly recommend one for anyone who does any solitary physical activities away from home.  I run alone and I do a lot of biking with Jack, and I rarely carry identification on me when I do either.  Should something happen to me, I want to have some way for a first responder to identify me and contact my husband, and a Road ID sounded like a good investment.  My Road ID has both my information and Jack’s data.  Road ID gave me a limited-use coupon to share for $1 off the regular price of $19.95.  Enter the code  “ThanksJennifer7321369″ (without the quotation marks) at checkout.

The July Carnival of Natural Parenting is around the corner.  This month’s theme is “parenting philosophies.”  The #CarNatPar was my first and is my favorite blog carnival so I always look forward to writing for it.

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Mindful Running

Welcome to the First Mindful Mama Carnival

This post was written for inclusion in the Mindful Mama Blog Carnival hosted by Zoie at TouchstoneZ. Participants are writing posts about what mindful practices mean to them, how they parent mindfully, obstacles to mindful practice and experiences along the way. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.

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Long ago, years before my son was born, before my life looked anything like it does now, I used to meditate.  I found that meditation gave me comfort.  It allowed me to quiet my mind and feel refreshed in ways that a cool shower or a good night’s sleep never managed to accomplish.  I felt better, smarter, stronger, more capable – it seems silly to say it, to believe that meditation could accomplish so much, but that doesn’t make it any less true.  It really had that effect on me.

At some point, I stopped meditating.  I stopped taking that time for me, the time where my obligations were only to myself, my spirit.  I didn’t think I missed it at all, yet somehow it crept back into my life in a new form.

I began running.

As a committed Non-Runner, I had spent my teenage years and my entire adult life avoiding situations which would require me to propel myself at anything faster than a brisk walk.  A jog to the end of the block was way too much to ask of me.  And yet one day I decided that I wanted, no, needed to become a runner, and I started taking baby steps.  One day, I ran a mile, and then two, and then 3.1.  Soon, five miles became attainable, and six.  And instead of feeling wasted after my runs, I began to feel refreshed.  I felt better, smarter, stronger, more capable…sound familiar?

Running has become my mediation.

I enjoy the ritual of preparing for the run – readying my water bottle, setting my timer to gauge my speed, putting on my shoes, shorts and tank top.

I enjoy the first mile, the “setup” for my run.  My body begins to warm up and I fall into the rhythmic “thump, thump, thump” of my shoes on the trail.  I breathe deeply in and out – I’m not gasping, I’m not suffering, but I am certainly living.

I enjoy being in the run – savoring those miles where my mind goes blank, my footfalls become a hushed backdrop, and I feel my body moving as though propelled by a source outside of my self.  Two miles turns to three, then four, and five.

I enjoy the return, the close of my run, where my starting point again comes into view and I pull back from my reverie.  I start to think about my pace, a post-run snack, and the rest of my day.  I feel refreshed and renewed, and I even feel accomplished.

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Mindful Mama Blog CarnivalVisit TouchstoneZ to find out how you can participate in the next Mindful Mama Blog Carnival!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:

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Wordless Wednesday: The Answer is “No.”

Question:  Jack always seems so happy to be on the bicycle.  Did he always love wearing his bike helmet?

Answer:  No.


(And for the record, he loves his bike helmet now).
Do you have a Wordless Wednesday post? Link up with us~!

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The Very Bad No Good Day

Bad days happen to everyone.   The alarm clock doesn’t go off.  A cup of hot coffee takes a tumble.  Keys get locked on the wrong side of a door.  We have all experienced one of “those” days.

Toddlers apparently get bad days too.  Often.  And for reasons that adults have absolutely no capacity to understand.

In support of that statement, I offer Exhibit A:  My toddler, this morning.

He woke up mad and pouty.

He didn’t want his diaper taken off.  Once it was off, he didn’t want a new one on.   Of the choices “nude” and “not nude,” Jack wanted to hold out for a third option and he was sure angry when I couldn’t offer him one.

And pants?  We’re having none of that today.  Mama, damn the pants.

A little crabbiness in the morning doesn’t deter me.  I kissed and hugged Jack and took  his pantsless self downstairs for breakfast.  Unlike most days, mama hugs and kisses made him madder.  And poutier.  Hoo boy.  This is going to be a fun day.

Not one to be discouraged, I started making his favorite breakfast:  a green monster smoothie, with extra banana.  Mmm.  He waited with anticipation as the blender worked its magic, and I slowly poured it into his straw cup and handed it to him.  I waited to see a smile of glee as he put the straw to his lips.

And waited…

And waited…

Apparently the smoothie wasn’t making its way up the straw fast enough.  A few suck, suck, suck sounds and Jack twisted his little face into a big, fat WAHHH!  Thud! went the cup as it hit the floor, and BAM! went Jack as he collapsed in a  sobbing heap next to it as green smoothie oozed onto the tile.

Oh boy, buddy. If you think that's disappointing, wait until you see what adulthood is like.

I am a momma of infinite compassion, or so I tell myself.  I picked him up, kissed him, and handed him his straw cup once again.  He had one sip and screwed his face into a point while looking at me like I had fed him a cup of cat poo.  Thud! The straw cup hit the floor one more time and the toddler stormed off, his little voice winding up into what was surely going to be a loud wail as he disappeared into the next room.

And then there was silence.

While normally golden, toddler moms know that silence from a toddler is almost universally terrifying.  It means they have discovered something that they shouldn’t be into.  In our case, he found the box of vintage enamelware that I had just listed on eBay the night before.  Enamelware that I wanted to keep in sellable condition.  Enamelware that I had placed up so high that there was no possible way that Jack could reach it.  Enamelware that makes an awesome CLANG CLANG CLANG! when banged together vigorously.

And then the silence was broken.  CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

I had to take the pans away from him.  If they were pots and pans we were keeping, I’d have let him play just to appease him, but these were listed for sale and I didn’t want to damage them.  And I knew I was in for a battle.  He was absolutely horrified that I would take his new toys away.

I am clearly the meanest mommy ever.  Those pots and pans were his best friends, his compadres, his BFFs.  And now I’ve separated them.  Forever.  Clearly, there will be therapy down the road for little Jack.

Protip: Leaning dramatically against the fridge makes your tantrum much more effective. I don't know why, but he likes to have his little toddler fits right there.

I checked the clock:  6:45 a.m.  On days like this, I am a little bit glad that I work outside the home.

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Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day!

This article on fatherhood has been making the rounds this week.  AuthorJeff Pearlman asks dads to “wake the hell up” and start taking more responsibility at home. At first I thought the article was pretty great, but after some thinking on it I’ve changed my mind.  Pearlman missed a great opportunity here by indulging in unnecessary gender stereotyping.

While I don’t necessarily disagree with the sentiments, I can’t help but roll my eyes at the writer’s lofty proclamations on fatherhood and his condescending “ten commandments of righteous fatherhood,” including pearls like “change a diaper,” “wash the dishes” and “tell your kids you love them.”  How many dads needed an article from CNN to tell them that?  (And if you aren’t doing those things already, would an article on the Internet make you change your ways?)

Yes, fathers should be engaged with their children at home, even if they just finished a long, trying day at the office.

But so should mothers.  This isn’t 1952.  Perhaps the author hasn’t heard the news, but lots of moms have jobs outside the home these days.  And lots of moms sit down on the couch after a long day at work, pour a glass of wine and plug their kids into some television show so that they could have a few hours to themselves.

In other words, disengaged parents come in two genders.  This isn’t a “dad” issue, even though framing it as one makes for a convenient little Father’s Day piece.  But why bash dads when the problem is one that really knows no gender?  Why not call a spade a spade and say “hey, parents:  your kids need you to take care of their physical needs, but they equally need you to take care of their emotional, mental, moral and social needs”:  I guess that isn’t as compelling as bashing dads just before Father’s Day.

Perhaps we all know an example of the “bad dad” (or mom) who actually could learn a lesson or two from that article.  I’d be willing to wager that far, far more parents take their roles much more seriously because we know just how important it is to be mom and dad.

Happy Father’s Day, everyone.

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Wordless Wednesday: The Buzz

Somebody needed a haircut:

As much as I love a long-haired baby, his locks were out of control and he was uncomfortable.

So here’s the buzz:

It brought tears to my eyes, but he loves his new haircut.  And the Momma will get used to it.

Have a Wordless Wednesday entry? Link up with us!

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Natural Parenting and the Toddler Leash

The toddler leash has become a hot-button topic.  While it doesn’t hold the emotional capital that vaccinations or circumcision have, there’s something about putting a toddler on a leash that brings out a lot of strong opinions.  On one side of the aisle are the parents who believe that a leash is a great safety tool that helps keep curious toddlers protected in crowded areas.  On the flip side are those who believe that a toddler leash is one small step on a slippery slope away from putting the child in a pet carrier with a bowl of kibble.

I’ll come out and say it:  I am pro-leash in certain circumstances.  Moreover, I believe that using a toddler leash is completely congruent with natural parenting principles.

We bought this little guy:

He’s a plush doggie that the toddler wears like a backpack, with two buckles that clasp together around the child’s chest.  A soft “leash” is attached to the back of the doggie.  The leash is about thirty-six inches long, and has a loop for the parent’s hand.  We purchased ours because we anticipated a big crowd at Mount Rushmore, and we wanted Jack to enjoy his time there without fearing for his safety.  While we ultimately opted for travel by backpack at the monument, we did use the leash when we visited the crowded tourist area of Keystone, South Dakota.  In doing so, we certainly got our share of stares from people.

When so many people perceive the leash as a tool for lazy parenting, how can a natural parent justify its use?

Inquisitiveness is the hallmark of the toddler.  They are not content to be passive observers of their environment; they want to touch, feel, taste and climb upon every surface and object that captures their attention.  Sometimes they stay focused like a laser on a seemingly uninteresting object for long periods, and other times they flit from one thing to the next spending mere moments on any single item.  While such exploration can safely be encouraged at home, in a crowded store, airport, or other busy and unfamiliar place, allowing a child to go on his own presents a real danger.  Parents are then left with few options:  They can stifle the child’s natural curiosity with lots of “no-no’s” or the physical restraint of a stroller or shopping cart.  They can allow the child to explore and hope for the best.  Or they can do their best to hover over the child and encourage safe exploration.  While the last option is ideal, it is not always feasible, particularly when there are tasks at hand or the toddler is particularly quick.  An accident can happen in the blink of an eye.

Therein lies the beauty of the leash: the leash encourages safe independent exploration. The leash allows the child to lead the way safely.  He can explore within a short radius, but he is never out of the parent’s quick reach in the event of danger.  In a busy place, there is no threat of separation because the leash connects parent and child.  The leash can encourage independence while providing an appropriate level of safety.  Using a leash is responsive to the toddler’s needs, and it encourages natural learning through exploration.

Leash naysayers respond to this argument by saying that their children can have the same level of independence while holding a parent’s hand.  In theory, that is true, but not all toddlers are willing to hold a parent’s hand, at least not right away.  Toddlers are so much smaller in stature than their parents, so hand-holding requires the child to keep his arm over his head for an extended period.  Try that for just five minutes – it isn’t comfortable.  Further, for toddlers relatively new to walking, having one arm extended overhead can throw off their balance and make walking quite difficult.  While hand-holding can certainly be taught, it is not automatic nor immediately adapted.  Before hand-holding becomes the norm, the leash is an excellent tool.

This natural parent has no problem using a leash in appropriate situations.  But where do you lie on the great leash debate?  Are you on the “I would never” side, or can you see some situations where a leash could be useful?

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