The Story

More Details! Our Oahu, Hawaii Anniversary Trip
The Story

More Details! Our Oahu, Hawaii Anniversary Trip

by Jill
written by Jill

So how did we decide on Hawaii as the destination for our 10 year anniversary? It actually wasn’t our first, 2nd, or 3rd choice. Originally, it wasn’t even on the list! Only because I didn’t think it would be remotely affordable, and I assumed traveling there would be a huge pain. I was partially right about all of that, but mostly wrong.

I always figured we’d go somewhere in Mexico or the Caribbean, or maybe even the Florida Keys. I also always figured I wouldn’t be pregnant for this trip. And I never knew to expect the Zika outbreak. Once all those original choices were ruled out because of the combination of my unexpected pregnancy and Zika, I thought the only option would be something like Seattle or Vermont. I mean, not bad choices, but so different than what we had in mind.

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After poking around on Expedia, I realized that the travel time to those places up north was actually the same as the direct flight from Dallas to Honolulu (8ish hours) for about the same price. I booked this back in August, so I don’t know if that holds true all year. We decided to use Expedia to book our flights and hotel, and wound up with 4 nights at the Outrigger in Waikiki.

While it was only for 4 nights, the vacation felt much longer because we arrived by 12:30 Thursday afternoon, and we didn’t fly out until 8 pm on Monday night. Yeah… I’ll get to that overnight flight in a little bit.

Where We Stayed

Okay- the hotel. Ugh. I want so badly to give it a glowing review because so many people seem to love it, but I really don’t think we’d chose to stay there again, at least not unless we could afford to upgrade significantly. I kinda feel like we were given the “Expedia” room- the one furthest from the good views, closest to the noise of the street and the AC system, maybe with the worst and most uncomfortable bed they have to offer.

To be fair, I never asked them to move us, but I really felt like it would have fallen on deaf ears because I can’t say the staff was all that warm and welcoming – except for the valets, they were great.

A photo posted by Jill Krause (@babyrabies) on

It’s not a bad hotel. It’s in a great location as far as Waikiki goes. The beach is amazing. The restaurants there are wonderful, but I really disliked that there wasn’t anywhere to sit that felt cool and comfortable in the AC at the 2 of the 3 we tried (Duke’s and Hula Grill), and there was a strong sewage smell coming from the back of the kitchen that leads out to the walkway along the side that takes you to the beach.

If we did stay there again, it would only be if we could afford a room with a better view/higher floor, assuming they put (much) better beds in those rooms.

What We Did

At first, I thought we’d just book a bunch of tours. It’s not hard to find plenty that will pick you up at your Waikiki hotel for free or a minimal charge. Once I started adding up the cost of all of those, though, I realized it wouldn’t be much more to just rent a car, even including the cost of parking at the hotel ($35/night), especially after pricing out airport transfers. We used Travelocity to book a week long car rental, and wound up getting a “triple upgrade” to a Jeep Patriot, for about $175.

I. Am. So. Glad. We would have been miserable stuck on a bunch of tour busses with people we didn’t know. We wound up loving the freedom of being able to drive wherever whenever. We only booked one “tour” but it was a totally different experience than most.

I will have a whole separate post on this soon, including some free digital downloads of photos (!!), but I think one of the best things we did was book an Epic Sunrise tour with Oahu Photography Tours. We booked it for the first morning we were there. The 5:30 am pickup time scared me, but wound up being perfect since that was 10:30 am Texas time and we’d been wide awake since 3.  Again, so much more on this to come, here’s just one of the pictures I got of that gorgeous sunrise.

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Did I mention that I lived on Oahu from kinder-4th grade? Oh yeah. I guess that influenced our trip a bit. We tried to get on base where I used to live- Pearl City Peninsula- but since we didn’t have base passes or military IDs we were denied entry. I did get to see my old elementary school (Lehua Elem), though! And while we were out that way, of course, we visited the USS Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor.

Our extremely early wakeup worked to our benefit here, too. The memorial opens at 7 am, and since tickets are on a first come basis, I imagine it gets really crazy later in the day. We wound up only having to wait about 30 minutes to get on the 9:30 am tour.

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After that, we drove up to the North Shore for lunch, and just to check out the waves. We fell in love with the sweet town of Haleiwa! We decided to book a surf lesson for Scott out there the next day, and thought a long, scenic drive around the island back to Waikiki sounded like a great way to spend the rest of the afternoon. It was lovely for about 30 minutes. The other 2 hours were pretty brutal, considering how many times we had to stop for me to pee.

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Scott’s early morning surfing lesson with Uncle Bryan’s Sunset Suratt Surf School was one of the highlights of the trip. Scott was up on his board, catching waves within 30 minutes. And there was a photographer there who got some fantastic shots that were available for digital download for only $25 (including the one above).

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Meanwhile, I got to watch from the shore, and they kindly provided me a beach chair and plenty of water. Can’t say enough kind things about them!

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Can we take a minute to discuss my favorite bathing suit probably of all time, and definitely while pregnant? If you haven’t found @KortniJeane on Instagram yet, run there and follow them (or check out their site here). They have the cutest suits for all body types, and when I saw they had maternity bottoms, I instantly fell in love.

I paired it with this SwimZip top for trips to the beach (size L, not maternity, but definitely big and forgiving enough).

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Okay, back to places we went. The last day we were there, we booked a Movie Site tour at Kualoa ranch. We saw some cool spots where Lost was filmed, and Jurassic park, along with a lot of other TV shows and movies. I wasn’t really there for that as much as I wanted up close access to photograph the gorgeous mountains and foliage there.

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I do regret that we didn’t eat lunch there. Scott wasn’t impressed with the “cafeteria” atmosphere, so we wound up back in Waikiki and had to settle for a crappy cheeseburger place. That leads me to…

Where We Ate

Of course, we ate at our hotel at both Duke’s and Hula Grill. And yes, we did have a slice of Hula Pie (ordered to go and ate on the beach because it wasn’t worth waiting 45 minutes for a table).

Other than that, we had no idea where we would go before we got there, but I relied heavily on the Trip Advisor app, and it didn’t steer us wrong. I would just check to see what was around us at the moment, and read the reviews.

Our official anniversary dinner was at the Hau Tree Lanai, just down the street from our hotel. Great food (high prices), great service, great view of the sunset and the beach.

A photo posted by Jill Krause (@babyrabies) on

When we got to the North Shore, the reviews for KONO’s were too good to ignore. I had the pork plate. So yum!

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The food did not disappoint, and was a great price, but I think Scott could have done without all the wild chickens pecking around our feet. Ha!

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Also in Haleiwa, we had coffee and lattes from Coffee Gallery, and we discovered Island Vintage Coffee, which had THE BEST breakfast I’ve ever had in my life. It was so good, we had it again back at their Waikiki location the next day.

A photo posted by Jill Krause (@babyrabies) on

We ate at a couple other places, but nothing worth noting. We were pretty disappointed that the AC was broken during our reservation at Top Of Waikiki. It’s an enclosed space and they can’t open windows. We didn’t even make it all the way around because we ate so fast just to get out of there. It’s not an inexpensive place, and I wish we would have just gone elsewhere.

What We Would & Wouldn’t Do Different

Overall, we had an amazing time and don’t regret much, but if we are fortunate enough to make it out there again, I think we’d do things a little differently. For starters, we’d probably rent a house closer to the North Shore, especially if we’re able to bring our kids. We’d plan to stock up on lots of local produce and meat and cook most meals there.

We would definitely sign everyone who’s old enough up for more surfing lessons with Uncle Bryan! That was the only part of our trip that made me wish our kids were there. It would have been a joy to watch Kendall give it a try.

We’d make Waikiki a day trip, but wouldn’t spend most of our time down there.

A photo posted by Jill Krause (@babyrabies) on

I’d like to say we would definitely not book the overnight flight home, but it’s possible my extreme dislike of that situation was colored by being nearly 8 months pregnant. I can say, FOR SURE, I wouldn’t do that again while gestating. BUT, a Hawaii trip while pregnant (travel to there aside) can be enjoyable. In case you were wondering.

 

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Stop It, Summer
BabiesSchool Age DaysThe StoryToddlers

Stop It, Summer

by Jill
written by Jill

I got a catalog selling “Back To School” clothes and backpacks yesterday. And then I went to Target and scored 70% off a new patio set because they were making room for aisles of crayons and notebooks.

It’s July 10th. Lowell turns one in 20 days.

NOPE.

Stop it, summer.

I’ve been quiet here the last couple weeks because we took a week to go visit Scott’s family in St. Louis for the 4th. We haven’t been up there in the summer for a while, and we rather enjoyed ourselves, despite the long drive.

It was an All-American kind of week with a gaggle of cousins, aunts & uncles a-plenty, doting grandparents, and GLORIOUS weather.

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And this bloody mary at the Cardinals game.

I’ve been busy behind the scenes for a while trying to tie up some loose ends, and launch some big projects. July and August are going to be exciting around here! Unfortunately, that means I’ve had very little time and energy for real blogging lately.

I promise my silence doesn’t mean I’m sitting around in my pjs, catching up on House Of Cards and Orange Is The New Black while my house looks like this.

I mean, most of the time.

So anyway, here are some more pictures in lieu of words about things that I’m super excited about that I can’t really talk about or show you yet.

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Some Crib Mattresses Make Better Trampolines
BabiesReviewsSchool Age DaysThe Story

Some Crib Mattresses Make Better Trampolines

by Jill
written by Jill

As much as I try to stick to daytime working hours the days all 3 kids are in their summer program, nighttime work is inevitable many nights of the week. Kendall and Leyna take turns poking their heads in the office.

“Mom? Mom. Mom, mom, mom. Mom. Will you snuggle me?”

Ugh. Yes, of course I want to tuck them in, and I want to curl up and snuggle, and I want to watch Jimmy Fallon as they doze off to sleep.

But I have to work. This work-at-home-mom thing is weird and difficult in some ways. Boundaries are never very clear.

Mostly because I refuse to draw them with heavy, black lines. I have the freedom to let them be murky, like watercolors. And so they are.

“Give me 15 minutes, Kendall,” I said last night.

He sprawled out on the empty office carpet. We have not furnished this room for many reasons, but that’s worked out to the kids’ advantage, it seems. There is plenty of room to play in here.

Moments later, as I typed out an email, I heard the quick thump, thump, thump of a basketball on hardwood floors.

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“Mom, mom, mom, mom,” he repeated to the beat of  the ball hitting the ground until I finally turned around and acknowledged his dribbling skills.

Recently, I dragged the old crib mattress in here. Not because I thought it would make a great trampoline for the kids, but because I thought our 11 year old dog Callie might like to rest on it during the day.

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Of course, the dog hates it, and the children jump on it.

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Colgate Kids sent Lowell a Nuzzle Snuze GreenGuard certified mattress, which seems much better as a thing for babies to sleep on (non-toxic, recyclable, allows air to flow freely).

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So now the old mattress can live it up as tiny trampoline in my office late at night.

Ugly and plasticky as it is, literally falling apart at the seams, I think I need to keep it around in here… until we find something suitable, like, I don’t know, some kind of grown up couch or something. I much prefer it in this new use. Lowell seems to, too.

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Judgement Doesn’t Make You Fail-Proof – On Babies Left In Hot Cars
BabiesThe Story

Judgement Doesn’t Make You Fail-Proof – On Babies Left In Hot Cars

by Jill
written by Jill

Every year, every. single. summer. my heart aches a deep, sharp, searing pain for the children who are lost to a tragic accident that takes way too many. Usually by mid-May, news outlets have reported at least a handful of babies/toddler/children left or trapped in hot cars. Dead. By the time summer is in full swing, it’s too frequent to bear. This year is no exception.

I know this tragedy strikes me in a particularly vulnerable place because I’m certain it could happen to me. It takes one lapse of judgement, one day of non-routine, one morning of chaos and exhaustion. I don’t ever allow myself to think I’m above this. I don’t ever allow myself to think “I’m too good of a parent to let that happen to my babies.”

And that, I feel… I hope? Is my best defense against it. The way my stomach drops every time I even think of it, the way I live in fear of that one slip in memory on a warm day- I keep that emotion raw. I acknowledge it. I acknowledge that most of the parents who have been on the other side of this tragic mistake were just like me- loving, caring, human.

I take precautions. I keep my bag in the back of the car. I keep Lowell’s Orbit infant seat rotated to the side when he’s not in it. I make sure to always leave a door open to the car when there’s a child in it, even if I’m just stepping away for a moment to unlock the front door to the house for the older kids to walk in before I retrieve the napping baby.

It never feels like enough, though. I know a large part of this intense fear stems from my anxiety, but I won’t excuse myself for wanting to take all the extra steps I can. Except, what else can I do?

I’ve seen devices, like this Childminder SoftClip System. I spoke with the company at a conference in May. I have to say, it looks like a great system since it doesn’t require the caretaker to have a smartphone or turn anything on or off, but it’s battery operated, and obviously not fail-proof.

Recently, I learned of the Babeep, which is a random, audible reminder to check the back seat anytime you turn the car off. Seems like it could definitely be one extra step for parents who don’t tune out things like beeps and other noises, and who aren’t on their phone when they arrive at their destination. Again, not fail-proof.

That’s the thing, right? That nothing is fail-proof. Nothing, not the warning systems or the reminders on our phones, and certainly not our brains, are fail-proof.

Every year around this time, as the reports trickle in, and the news feeds fill with opinions and shock, the comments that “that parent is a monster” and “I would NEVER forget my baby in the car,” I’m compelled to share the link to the most profound piece of writing I’ve read since becoming a mother-

Fatal Distraction, by Gene Weingarten, published by the Washington Post.

I first shared it back in 2010, and what I said then still holds true, so I’ll end with it.

THIS article, this heartbreakingdestroying story of so many parent’s grief and guilt, this tragic tale of loss and forgetfulness, is worth every single minute it will take you to read it from beginning to end. And do not skip from one point to the next. No, all these stories deserve to be heard and all these cautionary tales need to be told.

It is graphic, and it is so sad you will want to close your browser and be done with it all, to stick your fingers in your ears (or cover your eyes) and say “La, la, la…. not to me… never happen to me… puppies and rainbows and kittens!” But DON’T. It’s so easy to sit here and say, “I would NEVER forget my baby in the car,” but judgement doesn’t make you immune to accidents and temporary lapses in memory.

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The Excessive, Ridiculous Bunk Bed
BabiesBuild ItSchool Age DaysThe Story

The Excessive, Ridiculous Bunk Bed

by Jill
written by Jill

When we decided to put the boys together in Kendall’s room (versus selling this house, buying a new one and trying not to get divorced in the process), we knew we’d have to make every inch count.

I asked Scott to build Kendall a sensible bunk bed without the bottom bunk so it could free up some floor space since we’d be cramming a crib and rocking chair in there.

As I watched him stain and saw the pieces that would become our then 5-year-old’s bed, I thought to myself, “Wow. That looks…. enormous.” But he’s the handyman around here. And I didn’t want to get roped into sanding anything, so I stayed out of his way.

And then, this is what became of that request for a sensible bunk bed.

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It’s 8 feet tall.

EIGHT FEET TALL. I live with Tim “The Tool Man” Taylor. This is the same guy who insists on using his drill and finding a stud for anything we hang on the walls. A job is not complete if he hasn’t used a power tool. Drywall and nails are very unreliable, you guys.

He was quite proud of his gigantic structure. I, on the other hand, literally had a panic attack. I have this thing about my kids falling from heights. Like, actual nightmares. I take medication for it. (Only half joking.)

Sure, we can fit a lot under there, and I can nearly stand up, but I had visions of tucking him in at night, talking with him face-to-face as I stood next to his bed. Now I have to hoist myself up the ladder to the mess above. Oh, you can bet this bed never gets made… or the sheets changed.

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Now that it’s been up for a few months, I’m mostly okay with it, though I’m still pressing Scott to take it down and saw at least a foot off of it this summer. As you can see in the pic above, at least there’s a considerable fence around him. He knows not to play around up there. Leyna is absolutely forbidden from playing up there.

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And he knows to watch out for the ceiling fan. But mostly we don’t turn it on. Or dust it.

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It doesn’t really matter because he doesn’t really sleep in it. Lowell wakes 2-3 times a night, and we’re semi-sleep-training him, so Kendall sleeps in our room every night.

Yay for me not worrying about him sleeping in the clouds, but boo for feet in my back.

The good news is we did manage to squeeze the crib and the rocker in there.

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Some of you have requested plans for this monstrosity. I’m pressing Scott to get those done. I’ll be sure he adds the “excessive, ridiculous height” disclaimer to it.

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On My Worst Days, On My Best Days
BabiesPostpartum Anxiety & DepressionThe Story

On My Worst Days, On My Best Days

by Jill
written by Jill

I honestly think I could count on one, maybe two hands the number of times I’ve taken all three kids somewhere by myself (outside of back and forth to school).

Scott’s done it more times than I’d even try to count. He often takes all three of them grocery shopping, leaving me here to work… which, to be completely honest, mostly just means leaving me here to be in silence and not feel the urge to scream.

For me, postpartum anxiety means living on edge. It means not only battling the intrusive thoughts, the obsessive fears, and the rapid and shallow rise and fall of my breath, but also this feeling of the walls quickly closing in on me whenever things get out of control. Obviously that’s something I run the risk of often when tasked with caring for 3 kids in public.

On my worst days, postpartum anxiety means truly struggling to get dressed, and then struggling even more to get out the door. I would say it’s a struggle to get out of bed, and it can be, but most days I have no choice because a 10 month old is calling out for me over the baby monitor, and nursing him in a quiet room is calming.

On my worst days, I run the necessary errands, but beyond that, there are no casual trips to the park or the post office or the library with the kids. An outing to the zoo or the pool are COMPLETELY out of question. No. I can not. Can not even deal with the thought of it.

But on days like today, one of the good days, I catch a glimpse of the future. I’m reminded that I will get to the point where taking all 3 somewhere with me, be it mundane errands or epic playdates, will become a non-issue. Granted, I don’t think it will ever be without it’s challenges, but future-me will at least be able to manage the thought of taking them somewhere by myself without fighting back a deep feeling of dread.

Today, I loaded up all 3 kids and took them to the local gym. I signed us up for a family membership, and I dropped the kids off at the on-site childcare. I hopped on a treadmill, unsure what my plan was. All I really expected out of myself was 30 minutes of movement. I gave myself permission to take easy outs. I started out at a decent pace, but told myself it was only for a mile. Then I could go slower. And after 2 miles, I could stop. I could walk. It was my first day in a gym in years.

As my feet found their rhythm, my headphones pounded in my ears to songs I’ve never heard in my life, and didn’t chose, but that Workout playlist on Spotify is the next best thing to a personal trainer. I kept up my pace. I passed one mile. I started to go faster.

I carried on, it wasn’t easy, but I found I craved the feeling of accomplishment more than a rest at every point that I’d given myself permission to back out.

I finished a 5k in 33 minutes.

I walked off that treadmill recognizing that I didn’t just kick that workout’s ass. I kicked postpartum anxiety’s ass. At least for today.

When I see people talk about how to “prevent and/or treat” postpartum mental disorders, exercise is almost always mentioned. And yes, it is powerful. I am really looking forward to incorporating it into my routine… if I can manage to keep a routine. I am really looking forward to that blast of endorphins, and all the other ways it can help me feel better, and get through this.

That said, I want to end this with a little note about the advice to just exercise PPMDs away.

On my worst days, there was no way I could get it together enough to exercise. On my worst days, I couldn’t even get it together enough to feed myself.

For me, the only way I got through all of that and to the point where I could even consider exercise was with getting real help and taking prescription medication.

Yes, exercise and self care can do a great deal to treat PPMDs, but please don’t ever assume it’s all that you or anyone else needs.

My anxiety meds are the life preserver that pulled me to the shore where I can finally stand up on my own two feet and run like hell from PPA.

Speaking of kicking PPA’s ass, please consider donating $10 or more to my Climb Out Of The Darkness fundraiser to benefit Postpartum Progress! There are great prizes up for grabs. More details here.

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What I Had Wrong About Public School Kindergarten
Popular PostsSchool Age DaysThe Story

What I Had Wrong About Public School Kindergarten

by Jill
written by Jill

The first couple weeks of kindergarten for my oldest last August were brutal.

For all of us.

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He spent mornings – very early mornings since school for him started at 7:30- crying, telling us he hated school, begging us not to send him. He came home with behavior marks for things like talking at lunch. 

I began the school year in defense mode. I’d read what today’s American public school system can do to kids, especially rowdy little boys. I read the blog posts about how it could break them down, turn them into soulless drones, repetitively filling out worksheets that would train them to take tests.

I began the school year with my shoulders tensed, nearly convinced this would be devastating for him, this wild spirit of a boy who OF COURSE wants to talk at lunch when it’s one of the only times during the day he’s not supposed to be listening to a grown up.

I began the school year even considering that maybe this just wouldn’t be a good fit for him. I looked into local charter schools. I considered homeschooling. You MUST know how desperate of a thought that was for me.

I was wrong.

Kendall made it through kindergarten. He didn’t just survive, he thrived. He learned to read and write. He made friends. He discovered a love for the library, and science, and he will talk to you all day about recycling, birds, and plants.

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He wrote stories. He told stories. On the last day of school, he won the “Whopper Award” in his class for being such a good story teller.

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He learned about bullying. He learned how to be a part of a team. He learned compassion.

I thought kindergarten would be about what Kendall would learn, about his journey, his challenges, his lessons.

I was wrong.

This year was as much about us, his parents, growing alongside with him as it was about him learning proper punctuation and how to sound out words. It was about us learning to trust others to guide him. It was about us learning to advocate for him while giving up some control to others who also had his best interest at heart.

Did he take standardized tests? Yes. Did he continue to get behavior marks for talking and not sitting still? Yes. Did it continue to be a struggle to get him out of bed and to school so early? Yes. Are there things I’d change in my Utopia about his public school experience? Yes.

But there will always be things I’d like to change to make life different… easier (?), more adaptable, at least, for my kids. I’m learning that sometimes I need to fight for change, and sometimes I need to step back and let them learn to deal.

I thought kindergarten was going to be something we’d suffer through, the first year of a long trudge through the public school system, that we’d have to fight at every turn to not rip the spirit out of our energetic boy.

I was wrong.

 

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The Myth That Car Seats And Carts Are Made For Each Other
BabiesThe Story

The Myth That Car Seats And Carts Are Made For Each Other

by Jill
written by Jill

I spoke with a car seat brand representative last month, and their pitch was focused on extra measures of safety. A news story was fresh on my mind, and I asked, “What about making it more obvious that parents shouldn’t be putting car seats on top of grocery carts? Like, is there a way to add a visual to the warning that is attached to the seat?”

While she shared my concern, she stated that it does say in the manual not to latch it onto anything other than the base, and that at some point they have to rely on the consumer to read the manual and use common sense.

And I get it. We should all be reading every manual that comes with every piece of baby stuffs we buy, especially the seats we trust to save their lives. I totally understand that. I know that to a lot of people it’s common sense to not put your baby’s carseat on top of a grocery cart.

But let’s just play the reality card real quick. In reality, and I’m just as guilty of this, we don’t always read all of the manuals. In reality, we see the moms and dads that have come before us confidently hoist their babies in their seats to rest atop the grocery carts as they shop. In reality, we sometimes hear those seats “click” and they seem to fit so perfectly up there, we think they were made to do that. In reality, we are exhausted new parents who don’t know which side is up some days. In reality, we have no idea what we’re doing, and sometimes we really do need someone to tell us in some way other than the fine print.

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I saw a mom at Target a couple months ago lifting her newborn in his carseat to rest on top of the front of the grocery cart, like at least a half dozen other parents were doing in that same store at that same moment. Her toddler ran circles around her legs, tugging on her loose maternity skirt. She struggled to get the seat to latch onto the cart as she balanced an overstuffed diaper bag on her shoulder.

I paused as I walked toward her. I wanted to say something. I wanted to warn her. I wanted her to put her newborn baby safely down in the cart. I wanted him to be secure if anything jostled them, if his older brother ran into them, if they hit a curb on the way out. I wanted to help her.

I didn’t want to come off judgmental. I didn’t want to deflate her already seemingly tired spirit.

I almost just walked right on, but something in me urged me to stop and say, “Hey! Congrats on the little one. He is adorable. I just… wanted to stop and tell you… I used to put my baby in his car seat at the top of grocery carts like that, and then one day I had a horrible scare. His carseat almost fell off the cart, even though I thought it was latched on. I found out that they aren’t supposed to be up there at all. I had no idea, so I try to tell other parents who also might not know. Even if it clicks, it’s not actually secure. Anyway, you are doing a GREAT job. I know how hard it is to grocery shop with two littles. Hang in there. Have a good day.”

The truth is, I’ve never put my baby on the top of the cart. Not because I’m smarter or have more common sense, but because I’ve been around the internet for a long time. I read the cautionary tales before I had my first baby. But prior to that, it never occurred to me that was not safe, and I’m sure I would have been that mom if I hadn’t known any different.

It was a little white lie, but I hope it helped me convey the suggestion in a way that didn’t come off as harsh or judgmental. As much as I didn’t want her to feel offended by my suggestion, I also didn’t want her baby to get hurt… or possibly die.

No, that’s not being dramatic. Babies have died after their seats have fallen from the tops of grocery carts.

There is no seat that is made to click onto the top of a grocery cart. The safest place for them in their seat is in the basket of the cart, or you can wear them. I know, I know that this complicates things. I know it leaves you less room in the basket for groceries. I know not everyone can or enjoys baby wearing. I know it takes extra planning, but please don’t put your baby in their car seat on the top of your cart.

Tell your friends. Tell them to tell their friends. It’s obvious by the number of parents I see doing this every time I go to the store that it’s not that people lack common sense, but that many of us have bought into this myth that car seats and carts are made to work together. I’m not judging you. I just want to help you keep your baby safe.

Here’s a recent post by The Car Seat Lady about car seats and shopping carts
Here’s a video of a baby who got super lucky when a Home Depot worker caught him after he fell out of his seat atop the cart
Here’s a safety alert from the CPSC

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Crafty!School Age DaysThe Story

The Last Minute Birthday Success- A Party At Michaels Craft Store

by Jill
written by Jill

Kendall has recently found a love for birds. So much so that he asks me to do things like look up what a bluejay sounds like, and we listen to bird calls together on Wikipedia. Oh, child of the digital age.

It’s a refreshing change from Skylanders.

That said, when he told me he wanted a bird birthday party (and not the easily produced Angry Birds kind), I was a little stumped. The last few months have been rough and busy and exhausting for many reasons. I originally thought we’d have a movie viewing party here at the house.

“Movie viewing” is just fancy talk for renting a movie and popping popcorn, and inviting kids to come over in their pjs.

“What if we all paint birdhouses?” he suggested. I began to maniacally cackle before he could finish the request.

“No. Nope. Nobody is coming to our house to paint anything.”

A few days later, I remembered that Michael’s Craft Stores offer birthday party packages where you can rent their craft room and do stuff exactly like paint birdhouses. And then leave all the mess there.

I know this because one of my first jobs after college involved running events like this for their stores. I managed many a party of 12 6-year-olds making “gum ball machines” from clay pots, held together with hot glue, and slathered in wet paint. This was back before I even wanted kids, so clearly the brilliance of a plan like this from the parent’s point of view was lost on me.

Because clay pots and hot glue and wet paint and small children.

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So a few weeks ago I booked the party at our local Michael’s store. It was $50 to reserve the room for 2 hours, and included a party attendant who would set up and break down for us, and some basic supplies (like aprons each child could use- but not keep).

In addition to this, I had to purchase the supplies for the craft. I got enough wooden birdhouses, brushes, and a variety of paints (more than enough) for 10 kids. I used a 15% off entire purchase coupon, and spent about $60.

As for the invitations, I found a sort of bird-ish one on Postmark.com. They have some really adorable designs that are customizable, and I’d say a step up from the free Evites. I paid $5 for 15 digital invitations. Yes, digital. They are strictly emailed to your guests. But they look all fancy and stuff, so bonus points for the last-minute slacker mom.

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I did not do a single thing for this party until the night before. At Target, I got basic green and blue plates, napkins, and forks. Then I found some black chalkboard paper bags, some teal masking tape, these bird stamp stickers, and a silver sharpie. That was all in their scrapbooking section.

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The goodie bags simply included a bag of bird seed, and a bag of teal popcorn from a local shop.

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Okay, yes. The kids technically made birdhouses not bird feeders. Details… such silly details. I’m sure they can pour the seeds in the houses, right? Whatever.

There was no fancy cake. I had visions of making candy nests to rest atop cupcakes but then life and stuff happened. Instead, I wound up sprinkling candy-coated sunflower seeds (sold at the popcorn store) atop store bought cupcakes, served right from the plastic box. NO1CURR.

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And of course, there were birdhouses.

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And paint. And children making messes.

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It was totally fine because most of the children weren’t mine, and the ones who were mine were wearing clothes I didn’t care about.

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And none of it happened in my house.

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Y’all, I’m serious when I say I gave this party about 2 hours of my time, including the time it took me to drive to the stores to get stuff. And it was way less than $200 for 10 kids. And it was a BIRD birthday party! It was everything my 6 year old wanted, and he has no idea how much I phoned it in.

Okay, sure, this is probably not going to go viral on Pinterest for party inspiration, but that’s not what I’m getting at here. What I’m saying is work smarter, not harder.

I love putting fun details into parties- like the goodie bags that matched the invites, and giving my kid exactly what he wants. But it doesn’t have to come at the cost of my sanity.

This is not me being anti-big-over-the-top parties. If I get my way, Lowell’s 1st birthday will be bananas (except, not real bananas because he doesn’t really like them). This is just me reminding you to do what you can with what you have and be cool with that. Love it. OWN IT. Your kid will know no different.

This post is not sponsored. I don’t know much about Michaels birthday parties other than what my personal experience was. Check with your local store for details and stuff.

 

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BabiesPostpartum Anxiety & DepressionSchool Age DaysThe StoryToddlers

Mother’s Day Sucked, PPA Sucks

by Jill
written by Jill

Yesterday, Mother’s Day, didn’t go very well, and I’m mad.

The kids fought nearly the whole day, the restaurant we chose for a late lunch served up awful service and sub-par salads. Nothing went as planned. Heck, nothing really was planned. I spent the 2nd half of the day taking a nap in an effort to restart. When I woke, I just wanted to forget it was Mother’s Day altogether.

But it wasn’t the expectations, the arguments, or the long waits for food that angered me. Granted, they agitated me, but what really angered me, what made me want to cry was how badly all that affected me because of my postpartum anxiety.

I. Am. Mad. that postpartum anxiety, something that’s already making motherhood difficult for me, made my Mother’s Day a wash.

I lapsed on taking my meds because my prescription ran out. I took my last dose on Wednesday, got a refill after an appointment on Thursday, but then there was a tornado warning, and then there was Friday (which was just nuts), and then Kendall’s birthday party on Saturday. By Sunday literally all I wanted for Mothers Day was to quickly get to Walgreens to pick up my prescription and a relatively relaxing lunch.

I was so wound up, so jumpy, and everything was so…. loud at that point, that it was nearly impossible to relax. Add to that all the little hiccups that I’m usually able to roll with (or at least not actually lose my mind over), and it was a recipe for disaster.

Then there was the guilt for feeling this way, for just wanting the day to not be about me, when just the sound of my children’s voices made me tense up. There was guilt for not being able to just get over it, to appreciate this day for what it is- another day with my family, which is something I always try to be grateful for… or at least see the silver lining.

Today is looking better. Tomorrow will be even more improved, I’m sure. And the next day? I’m asking for a Mothers Day makeup because I will NOT let that PPA bitch take it away from me.

 

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