Happy 10th in Heaven Mami

If you’ve visited me within the last two weeks (thanks btw), you’ve probably seen that I’ve fallen off the writing bandwagon. I’ve not been so busy that I couldn’t write. I’ve chosen not to.

Mami in her heyday.

See this picture – she’s the reason why I’ve been offline. It’s been ten years since I’ve not hugged her or heard her voice. Some days the memories are so clear that it’s like she’s sitting next to me. And other days – it’s so hard to remember how she did the things she did.

I look at my son and see how much he’s grown. It is in looking at him that I’m reminded of the passage of ten years. He was just a year and a half when she died. And she loved him SO much! I just wanted to share that Mami was the strongest woman I’ve ever met and there will NEVER be another mom like her. My mom, my role model, my pain in the ass. I love you Mami. Until we meet again.

Frances Reyes (1942 – 2002)

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A Big Boy’s Room

 I’m the mom of an 11-year-old, about-to-start-6th-grader who was ready to break out of the little kid’s room. So, this past weekend, kiddo got his “big kid” room.

Kiddo’s original room had a captain’s bed and a small drawer chest lovingly provided by my father (he’s too good to me). It also had his toddler table and four chairs (a gift from my sister) and a rocking chair & ottoman (also from my father).

It was bittersweet for me cleaning out his room and moving the rocking chair, ottoman and toddler table into my spare room. I didn’t think he’d outgrow that. Now I totally get it when my father tells me that he doesn’t see Heiddi the grown woman with a kid and career. He says that he sees a six-year-old gap-toothed, pig-tailed little girl.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for kiddo to grow up. But, it’s happening anyway.

Kiddo couldn’t wait until Wednesday (he’s at his father’s til them) to see his new bedroom set. My heart was racing when he walked in because I didn’t know if he’d like it (the set we picked was discontinued and I picked a new one). Squealing, kiddo raced up the ladder to lay on it and get a feel for the new mattress. And he had to test out his freethrow after all.

All I wanted to do was cry happy and sad tears. Happy tears for being able to provide him with his ‘big boy’ room and sad because my Cocohead is growing up. Onto the next mommy adventure.

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Sleep-Deprived Mommy

Sleep-deprivation – defined by WebMD as follows

1. a sufficient lack of restorative sleep over a cumulative period so as to cause physical or psychiatric symptoms and affect routine performances of tasks.

I had a sufficient lack of restorative sleep over a cumulative period of four nights in a row and caused fatigue, crankiness, fogginess and affected my work/life routine performances.  AKA – I was FRIGGIN’ tired!

With so many wonderful things my amazing mom passed on to me, sleep deprivation was one I could have done without. I thought my sleep-deprived nights were over once my son left the baby years. NOT!

Now, what keeps me up at night are thoughts. Thoughts about my son, things I need to do at work and home, my life – EVERYTHING. I also have a very bad habit of daydreaming and visualizing dreams. These are all good things to do, but not when I need to get to sleep right away. What also keeps me up is kiddo.

Kiddo’s a pre-teen with the ‘I’m a big kid’ attitude going on, but still likes to sleep in my queen-sized bed once in awhile. When he does sleep there, I don’t. Rather than keep his pre-teen rump on his side of the bed, he manages to roll over to my side. Kicking and throwing his arms out. I often wonder if he’s dreaming about beating me to a pulp.

Between the kicking and throwing, plus my own pre-sleep racing mind (bills, kiddo, work, bills, kiddo) I get little to no sleep. Add to that a stressful, draining dayjob and it’s a recipe for a bitchy, tired mom.

I’d like to invent a contraption to keep a child stuck in place all night long and maybe throw sand from Mr. Sandman on the child’s head to knock them the hell out. But, then thinking that up will probably keep me up at night, too! Dammit!

Guess I’ll have to change up my routine to make myself a priority. Because a well-rested mommy is a HAPPY mommy.

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Ruckus Reader is here!

Parents, got an iPad or iPhone? Do your kids hijack your electronics to use apps? In search of apps perfect for your little readers? Look no further than the Ruckus Reader.

Specially made for kids, Ruckus Media offers a variety of apps for young readers through 8 years old.Very user friendly, kids can choose to have the story told to them or read it out loud. Cool graphics, great music and classic stories come to life with the Ruckus Reader. The kids can use the apps over and over again for reading fun!

 

And that’s not all. Parents, the Ruckus Reader also “gives parents feedback on how their kids are doing and tips on how to help.” It reinforces national educational standards for preschooler through second grade. The Ruckus Reader has been given thumbs up from Daily Candy, Parents.com, Five Minutes for Mom and Mediabistro. To learn more, check out Ruckus Reader today!

Yes, I AM Mom Enough!

Yesterday’s release of the Time magazine article incited outrage and comments from moms all over. Some moms were upset because of picture itself of a mom breastfeeding a toddler (who is standing on a chair to reach his mother’s breast). Others were upset because it showed a woman breastfeeding in public. It was all over my Twitter feed. Neither of those things upset me.

What DID upset me? The title. “Are you Mom Enough?” I could care less about what other moms do – breastfeeding in public (or not), breastfeeding a toddler (or not) or attachment parenting. I know what works for me doesn’t have to work for anyone else. Or vice versa.

But, the idea that I’m NOT mom enough because I’m not breastfeeding a toddler did spark my outrage. The title of this article is yet ANOTHER way that words have hurt the community of moms. Stay-at-home, Work-at-home or Work-outside-home, breastfeeding, bottle-feeding – these are all words that have caused divisiveness in the Mom community.

Rather than helping moms unite as a force to be reckoned with, this choice of words for the cover article title only serves as a way for us to pick at one another for our parenting styles. This mom wants to breastfeed her toddler? So what? She wants the world to know about it? Fine by me. Her choices do not mean that she is “more mom” than I am. Not at all.

I’m a single mom living in New York City. Not many women would freely choose to be a single mom. I got out of a relationship and am co-parenting my son with his father. Yes, a single mom I am, but it doesn’t make me any “more mom” than the moms featured in the article. This is just my experience. It does not make me braver than anyone else. It doesn’t make me stronger than anyone else. It just makes me – me.

So yes, I AM mom enough! Next!

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