Halloween preview

Ava's went to a Halloween Carnival a week ago, which made things a lot less harried and sugar-fueled on the actual day. In honor of the recession and her limited long term memory for an event 1/3 of her life ago, we recycled her bumblebee costume from last year.

She asked excitedly, "Do I get to wear my bumblebee costume again?!"  Why yes! Yes, you can. And she had just as much fun buzzing around again. Look at that smile: don't fake wings and tulle scream fun pretty much any day of the year in almost any setting?

But check out that pumpkin. A little creepily over-excited, don't you think? Like it's ready to take a bite out of her head. Or maybe it's just amazed by her blow-dried, flat-ironed tresses, which she requested out of the blue that morning.

It's as if she said, "What is the attire for ye olde carnival? Festooned and bejeweled? Ah, well, simple ponytails would be gauche. Let us go forth with a more, shall we say,  substantive coif. Something more befitting a bee. A queen bee!"

Actually, she just said, "I want my hair straight! And down!" Regardless, that pumpkin is all, "Say whaaat?! Yeeeahhh gurl: that 'do is DONE!" Yeah, in my mind, the pumpkin is channeling every character Tracy Morgan ever played on SNL.

So after explaining the whole candy and doorbells and costume thing and seeing her accept it as plausible, I think I could make up just about any crazy "custom" and pass it off as real. Like, "Hey Ava, get some yogurt and string cheese. We have to go put these on people's windshields for the Dairy Fairy. She'll pick them up and leave a carton of Baby Yogurt under your pillow tonight!"

I mean really, is that any less plausible than the tooth fairy and trick or treat backstories? Clearly, I may not be the best one to impart these childhood fables, what with my lack of disbelief suspension and all.

Here is how we spent the actual Halloween: grocery shopping. I know: the paparazzi had a field day! (Ha!)

It was pretty cool to see that Dylan's finally big enough to sit in this kiddie cart without falling over or out, despite Ava's periodic efforts to steer both wheels at once. Check out his pose: it's like he's in NASCAR and gunning for the inside lane.
 
But note to store shelf stockers: if you're going to install racks at shoulder level that jut out into the aisle with toddler-sized bottles of spices, you're just asking for someone to have to utter the words "cleanup on aisle 12" over the PA system at some point during your shift. Just sayin'.

Hope you had a fun-filled day!

Breastfeeding space for working moms ridiculous? Say it ain't so Joe

I'm a full-time work outside the home, milk pumping mom going on month 37 of nursing between two kids and I couldn't believe my ears this past Sunday when I watched Time magazine's Joe Klein on Meet the Press with former presidential speechwriter/Wall Street Journal columnist Peggy Noonan.

When David Gregory asked about the mood among average Americans, Klein had something derisive to say about a provision in the recently passed healthcare bill that called for businesses of a certain size to set aside a room for breastfeeding mothers.

According to Joe, during his recent listening tour of middle America, many folks feel this is an example of  "ridiculous provisions" in legislation pushed by Democrats. As the link above explains, he went on to buttress the comment by saying that his dad had run a small business and would have let a nursing mom use his office if needed, presumably without any intrusive government legislation.

I was a bit apoplectic at the time but spewed forth to my husband about the many blogs and articles I've read about nursing moms forced to pump in janitor closets reeking of chemicals, conference rooms in distant buildings (if available) with no door locks, and other situations that made it tough, if not impossible to pump effectively after returning to workplaces that were less-than-supportive of the needs of working moms. We're talking in 2010!

Using Joe's argument, civil rights legislation in the 1960s presumably would also have been unnecessary since there were some people (somewhere) who had no problem hiring people of color. As the article's author Peter Hart so succinctly put it:

Perhaps working mothers should all work for someone like Joe Klein's father. Since that's not possible, then maybe laws to protect such workers are necessary after all.

Just last week I pumped in my car because there wasn't a convenient place to pump at a simulated emergency exercise in which I participated. Fortunately, I have tinted rear windows and I'm an old hand at this pumping process. I shudder to think of a new mom who's newly-returned to work and stressed about leaving her baby and getting back into the swing of things having to manage in this way. "Relax and let down" would be a challenge, to say the least.

I think there should be a 'walk in my shoes' requirement for Joe and others like him who see simple accommodations for nursing moms as too cumbersome or symbols of government intrusion. They should have to spend a couple days packing and carrying a breast pump, a laptop bag or other tools of a trade, and lunch to their workplace. Once there, they have to find a sanitary, discrete place to hook it up and actually use the pump while eating lunch, preferably a couple times each day.

Extra points if they can do so at a traditionally male-dominated workplace/industry and, of course, major points if they successfully express any fluid . THEN tell me what a crock it is that businesses with more than 50 employees should be required to do this. Until then, shut your non-engorged, no first-hand experience pie holes.

Movin' on up

Dylan is growing like a weed and has outgrown his infant car seat. While Ava was visiting my folks overnight, he got to try out her big kid seat. It fit perfectly with minimal adjustment. Good thing that seat's good to 100 lbs.

Milk to go

The things I do for love? Use a DC to AC inverter to power my pump in my car so I can pump 9.25oz of liquid gold while eating lunch during offsite training. #breastfeeding

Sent from my Nokia phone

Play school!

After months of buildup, bigger than a Friends finale (Ava: "What's 'Friends'?" Me: "A show you'll watch on the Vintage TV channel some day."), Ava started school part time in September.

I spent months checking places out, researching online, creating a hyperlinked Excel spreadsheet of possible schools with comparisons of learning approaches, teacher/child ratios, distance from home, and cost per hour. It was, in a word, insane. Or two words: insanely stressful. Mainly because it felt like the choice of where she ended up would decide whether or not she loved school (as I had) or hated it from the start.

It's play-based, which didn't seem rigorous enough in comparison to places that are practically guranteeing that your toddler will be doing algebra, right after using play-doh to make 1/5 scale models of regional architectural treasures.

But I did some searches online, talked with friends who teach little kids, and they raised some good points about play-based programs. Finally, as J. pointed out, Ava really engaged on the tour there, jumping right in with her age-mates in the play area and she told us how sad she was to leave.

Ultimately, I think I liked the Montessori school we initially found more for myself. But since my stuff can't fit in a cubby anymore, we chose and were chosen by the school that worked best for Ava.

Over the past year, because of Ava's excitement about going to school, we used it as a carrot in her potty training efforts. Which is why periodically on the weekends when we used a family bathroom stall while running errands, the folks in other stalls were treated to Ava applauding me and yelling, "Yay Mommy! You did it! You're going to school!" In the end, she potty trained months ago and the school she's attending doesn't have a "must be potty trained" rule, but she has a change of clothes there just in case.

When the first day of school rolled around, I took a couple days off work to be able to fully revel in the experience. First up: a hearty oatmeal breakfast. A friend with two little boys pointed out that it was quite the accomplishment to be able to have that meal in the same clothes she wore to school. It hadn't even occured to me because we're used to her being so neat. With Dylan, we may need a drop cloth and hose.

Half the fun of back to (or start of) school is the accessories. For my pink-loving play schooler, I found an insulated lunch sack and cute stacking bento containers, ice packs and napkin at the local Daiso Japanese dollar store. Packing a tasty, visually appealing lunch (often with a little post-it love note/drawing) is one way of showing her that I care about her, even when I'm not there for school dropoffs and pickups. I got the bento idea and the Daiso tip from the super smart blogger/Bay Area mom behind http://www.lunchinabox.net/.

J. giving the kids a lift before we headed for the first day of school.

See Ava: that's the school where a chunk of our disposable income is going.

My mom joined us, making for a three-generation start of school shot.

Money shot: whole family in one picture finally. Usually I'm missing because I'm taking pictures.

Ava's 3rd birthday fell on the second day of school so we took balloons and mini cupcakes for her class for lunch. Thankfully, she figured out that every day wouldn't entail such hullaballoo. Like, "It's Tuesday. Where's the marching band?"

Me and my smiley boy, who hung out in my trusty, much-loved Ergo through it all and was his usual good-natured self. As long as he's in the carrier - whether front or back - he doesn't make a peep. Hopefully, in a couple years, it'll be his turn to don a new back pack and head off to playschool.

All in all, Ava loved school from the start and since J. does drop offs and pick ups, I have to be content with hearing second-hand all the scoop on her new friends when I pick her and Dylan up after work ("So-and-so put sand in my hair so he had to go to time out!").

After years of thinking we might just be the childless aunt and uncle, I'm once again pleasantly surprised at how much enjoyment I'm getting out all of this kid-related minutiae. I'm absolutely loving being a mom to these two and sharing in all the tears, tantrums, tenderness and triumphs of their young lives.