Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Friday, December 2, 2016

Chronicle 63: Last Minute Gift Giving Guide


Now that the Halloween sugar high has crashed, and we've regained all our formerly lost baby weight during multiple Thanksgiving feasts, the gift giving season has officially commenced! 

Whether you're buckling down for birthdays, anniversaries, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or Christmas... chances are you need something to give your loved ones. If you're anything like me, you want the gift to be thoughtful and unique, but you don't have the time or energy to go traipsing around a billion stores while shlepping two octopuses around. And by octopus I mean child. And by child I mean eight legged creature who grabs everything in sight.
I've gotten pretty damn good at online shopping. So leave it to me, ladies. I've done the research, logged the man hours, and waited like a teenage girl by the phone for the post man to drop off mountains of boxes. I'm pretty sure I impressed him with my ninja quickness at opening the door and snatching receiving the packages. 

Quick Shipping

If you're looking for a super quick ship, Amazon is always the way to go. I bit the bullet and signed up for Prime when I first started teaching, and I never looked back. Two day shipping, baby! And 99.9% of the time it has reached me within 1-2 days. There was one time it took a LOT longer (three days, GOD), but it was an issue with the mail carrier. 

This is literally a one stop shop. You got your toys, your books, your music, your cooking utensils, your sex toys, your rugs, your purses, and your personal nose hair groomer. I mean, everyone on the list is covered.
A very accurate depiction
What I love most about Amazon is that their prices are competitive, you don't have to fight other moms hopped up on caffeine in the toy aisle or stand in a ridiculously long checkout line, and they even offer toys without that crazy cardboard (paper cut-inducing) packaging.

Unique Gifts 

Another site I discovered this year was Uncommon Goods. They have something for pretty much every age and interest, and their shipping is FAST. I got my shipments within two days, and they were neatly packaged in a blue box with a cute little gift card tucked under the satin ribbon bow. I opted for gift wrapping, because, hello! Exhausted (which is a fancy word for lazy). 

What I really like about this site is the uniqueness of the gifts and the price ranges. You can get something for less than $25 or buy the BIG GIFT. You know, the one big gift that towers over all the other little ones? Yeah. They got it. Checked most of my extended family off the list with this site.

My favorites: a bubble wrap calendar, scotch infused toothpicks, and this cheese and crackers board which makes presentation neat and easy!
 

Gifts that Give Back

*BESTIE present alert!!* If you're looking for gifts that support others, check out The Shine Project. I stumbled across their profile on Instagram after falling in love with their jewelry. The story is even more amazing.
This incredible effort serves to empower women who want to better themselves through education, but may not currently have the financial means to do so. The founder, Ashley LeMieux, also works directly with their families to help better their living conditions. The Shine Project has teamed up with companies like LulaRoe to create beautiful jewelry and clothing that serves a desperate need.


There are so many other worthwhile sites that sell awesome gifts while supporting others. However, quick tip: Do some research before you commit. Some of the most recognizable or common charities actually cause more problems than good, or don't donate as much as you would think. This is the one place where spending time and energy is necessary!

OK, y'all. The holidays are a stressful time and if we can diminish that and enjoy ourselves even a little, then this post was well worth it. Kick back, grab a cocktail, and click away!

Joy, love, peace & alcohol, 

The Hot Mama








Sunday, January 17, 2016

Chronicle 60: To the Mob Mentality Mamas



If we are friends on my personal Facebook profile then you may have noticed I've been posting some very personal things lately. This particular personal struggle has been overwhelming, life changing, emotionally & physically exhausting, confusing, isolating, amazing, you name it. I'm talking about Sensory Processing Disorder, which my son and I both have.

In a nutshell, a very LITTLE nutshell, sensory processing disorder is a neurological condition that affects how a person reacts to stimuli. Sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touches will send our body into fight or flight mode. ALL. DAY. You can imagine how exhausting it can be with adrenaline constantly coursing through our bodies telling us that the ceiling fan, traffic noise, dishwasher, sock seams, shirt tags, etc. are too much to handle and we need to ESCAPE. NOW. or fight back with our words, our attitudes, our bodies.


There wasn't a name for this, really, when I was growing up. The symptoms of SPD can mirror those of Autism and ADHD, and I didn't exhibit obvious behaviors associated with autism and ADHD. How does a child explain or even know that what they're feeling isn't normal, or that they should be given specific tools to deal with a variety of situations? So, I taught myself and never talked about it. This is how I deal with it: I don't wear socks, EVER. I don't spend a lot of time around crowds. I disappear to my room when I can't handle noises. I text instead of call. I leave the mall, grocery store, or restaurant when I'm overwhelmed. Hearing someone chew is my personal hell - sometimes the movie theater can be, too. A lot of times my senses trigger fight mode to the point where rage builds up and I explode. I'm only human, after all.

Luckily, when Grayson started exhibiting signs of SPD I was on it. We consulted several doctors and now he is seeing an occupational therapist and making great strides in a Montessori preschool. The structured environment works well for him. Every day is a constant struggle. Not only is Grayson very energetic, but he is compulsively inquisitive, curious, and unintentionally aggressive with others. Everyone always says, "He LOOKS normal. You would never know something is wrong with him." Or the classic, "He's ALL boy, idn't he?"

How do I put this? Nothing is "wrong" with my son. We are dealing with a different set of challenges than you. Which is why I hate the special needs label he has acquired. Putting a label on Grayson entitles other people to treat him differently, to judge him, to see him as flawed and damaged, to expect less of him, to exclude him from mainstream society, to pity him, and to categorize him as a nuisance. How do I know this to be true? We have already experienced it first hand. And thus, I have written an open letter to the women who surrounded my son and I at the playground last week.



To the Mob Mentality Mamas at the playground:

I'm sure it was easy for you to misjudge the situation. One minute your children were playing happily on the jungle gym, and the next they were running to you with tears on their cheeks. They tell you through hiccuping sobs that a little boy hit them. "Who?" you demand, standing up to find the culprit. Up until that moment you had been chatting with your friend and staring at your phone, allowing your 18 month old to navigate the massive playground alone.

"That boy! In the plaid shirt!" Immediately scanning the playground, you don't see another mom, except for the one bent over a stroller, trying to strap in an acrobatic toddler who clearly would rather still be running around.

An older woman steps in, the weight of God-like judgement burdening her. "PLAID SHIRT! WHO DOES THAT KID BELONG TO?!" She repeats it several times until the mom at the stroller stands up, dazed and confused. She had literally just walked away from her son to put her daughter in the stroller. A mere minute, and now chaos was unfolding.

Sound dramatic? It was. After I was beckoned by the older woman, Grayson came out of the play area saying that the moms had told him he didn't belong. He came over to me, confused, clearly knowing he had done something wrong, but not understanding the situation. I was a bit confused myself. Grayson is sensory seeking, meaning that his neurological system needs deep input or pressure to stabilize. Sometimes he will bump into things or people to get the input he needs. Rarely does he push or shove to get that input, especially without provocation. The way he reacts to being overwhelmed can come across as misbehavior to those that don't know him, and don't know SPD. Believe me, he DOES know right from wrong.


Clearly, the children we were dealing with were angels and had no responsibility in the situation whatsoever. I brushed that snarky thought aside as I bent down to talk with him. "Grayson, it is never ok to hit or push, for any reason. Let's go speak with our friends and hear what they have to say." (I was pretty damn proud of myself for handling it this way. In reality I wanted to curse, punch, scream, and yell myself. I kept my cool knowing they would never hear my message if I got defensive. Again... really proud.)

We walked over to the children, who had been lined up in a row. The parents began to surround us. Really! They literally formed a circle around us, including the older woman and her friend who said, "We don't have any children involved in this." (Ummm, ok? Then why ARE you involved?) I could read anger and judgement on their faces, their arms were crossed, their body language was actually pretty menacing. I imagined tiny pitchforks in their non iPhone holding hands. It felt like West Side Story without song and dance to break the tension. Breathing deep and trying to calm my fluttering heart, I had Grayson speak to each child, apologizing and asking if they were ok. They each nodded, tears already dry. They were eager to return to playing and ran off immediately. The parents remained, staring at me.



I gathered Grayson up and said, "My son has Sensory Processing Disorder, and we are working on the social aspect." As much as I hated to say it, it worked. Their faces immediately softened, they actually took a step back, and then muttered an "It's ok" before walking away.

Of course I was MORTIFIED and Grayson had a meltdown as we left. He wanted some cinnamon pretzels, a request that was clearly denied. I wanted to dig a hole and hide. And then came the flood of retorts, the imagined things I would say and do given a second chance, all of which I cannot repeat.

I stick by how I handled it. My friend was there and watched the whole thing unfold. She could not believe what had happened. If Grayson was indeed "normal", then pushing is still developmentally appropriate for his age. What child hasn't acted out? What behavior exactly would justify closing in on a mom and her 4 year old son at the playground?

I will tell you this, mob mentality mamas. I'm glad you were there. I am glad you learned there may be a reason to stop before judging a child or mother. Or that this open letter reaches to hearts that need it. Thank you for teaching me that I can handle situations like this - that we will survive, and hopefully educate others about a disorder that can't be seen on the face or body of a child.

Sincerely,

The Hot Mama & her son <3

For more information on SPD: http://www.spdfoundation.net/about-sensory-processing-disorder/

Thursday, October 29, 2015

Chronicle 59: Ode to the Shower



You and I were close friends once,
And I took it all for granted.
This ode's to you, dear shower, pal.
My view's now slightly slanted.

I used to step under the water,
Steaming hot, sublime.
My eyes would close, my mind would wander,
Once upon a time.

The gentle pulse would wash me clean,
My worries down the drain.
Alas, I have no time for you,
Just time for mommy brain.

My children, see, have come between us.
They need every second I gather
My hands are full (my heart is, too),
But I'm starting to need a lather.

I'm feeling like a Shel Silverstein poem,
with layers of dirt on my skin,
and hair that houses bats and mice,
and clothes thrice lived in.

I know your layers of soap scum
are feeling quite the same,
please don't leave me, shower -
I know I'm being lame.

For now, I'll have to be content
with dreams of that glistening stall
I'll close my eyes (don't fall asleep!)
and hear the water fall.

I miss you, shower.

xoxo,
The Hot (&Dirty) Mama



Monday, April 20, 2015

Chronicle 55: Number Two



Ahhh, number two. Could be that you planned it. Could be that the little devil snuck up on you until one day... PLOP! Just couldn't hold it in any more. Little, big... doesn't matter. This puppy will change your life forever.

Oh, shit! You thought I was talking about *whispers* number TWO? I meant the second CHILD! Geez, get your mind out of the gutter, people!
I never formally announced that we had another baby, but considering my readers are mostly friends and family, I thought, you know, that you already knew...

But for those people who just happened across my corner of cyber space (probably Googling baby fashion or sore nipples), I HAD A ANOTHER BABY!! YEAH! The snark is strong with me today, son.
How number two has thrown us for a poop. I mean, a loop.

1. Our oldest child has become a servant, parent in training, very special helper!  This is a conversation my, um, friend had with her son recently while she was trying to nurse a wiggling 10 month old with FANGS adorable brand new teeth (who had just decided to blow out of the ruffly $50 outfit from Grandma):

"Hey honey, can you run upstairs and get Mommy a diaper? Yeah, upstairs. IN THE DRAWER! IN THE BIG WHITE DRAWER! No, in your sister's room. YOUR SISTER'S!" When he brought down his favorite pair of underpants instead, I...um SHE just smiled while crying inside.

2. Where in the sweet potato is... ?!?!?! Everything is suddenly missing. Stuff that you wouldn't dream was possible to lose. The baby's entire collection of 20 bottles, your son's favorite toy screw driver, the fake spiral topiary that used to be on the mantle, step stools, potty chairs, and entire couch cushions. Where in the KALE CHIPS do these things GO!??!?!? Either that, or they turn up covered in sticky unremovable substances. Martha Stewart, are you for sale?
3. LAUNDRY. We are at the point where we all wear one outfit a day. SO WHY IS IT that we are doing two loads of laundry EVERY NIGHT? GRRRRFLALAKJDBkhgsvcjaghfd I can't even.

4. My ride. I drove a crossover with one child and now, due to a lack of room situation, we upgraded to a full on SUV. I love it, but the closer I get to owning a mini-van, the closer I feel to losing my sanity. This birth control better not fail, because I will not be purchasing a big ol' van any time soon EVER!!!

5. Sorry, not sorry, but I am never 100% squeaky clean. Because KIDS.
"Just took a shower, Ma? Here, let me barf on your leg."

"Oh, Dad, so glad to hear you got this shirt back from the dry cleaner's. Let me wipe a snail trail of snot on the shoulder."

"Just spent 45 minutes on your hair and makeup, Mommy? I've got some super sticky yogurt that will add a nice pop of color. Let me make sure it gets on every single layer so you have to wash it again."

I can't fail to mention all the dried cheerios, puffs, goldfish and other cracker type crap that manages to glue itself to my BUTT!
And  that, my friends, is just a sample of how number two has flushed my former life away. Yeah, yeah enough with the lame jokes. But seriously, I've gotta go.

xoxo,
Hot Mama

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Chronicle 54: Holidazed & Confused



love loved the holidays. Getting together with friends and family, taking part in longstanding traditions (awkward small talk until you remembered that you grew up with this person and have many hilarious memories together). I used to bask in sweater weather, eat too much turkey and gravy, and spend hours sprawled on the floor looking at old family photos.

When I got pregnant with my son, I was so excited to share moments like these with him. I couldn't wait to teach him the perfect dressing to green bean ratio, or watch him joyously discover the fun of running around with cousins while the grownups watched with knowing smiles. This was all before reality sunk in.

It's no secret that having small children is difficult. But there is a HUGE difference between "knowing" and KNOWING. Perhaps you don't have children yet, or it has been awhile since you've had little ones in the house. You may feel a certain sympathy for the mom juggling a plate of cranberry sauce and a newborn. Or the Dad chasing after the son who is going after Grandma's breakables. It might even be a bit funny to watch prized knick knacks wobbling toward the edge of the table. Later? It will be funny to me, too. Now... well, here's what you DON'T know.

Mom had a sleepless night before Thanksgiving because the baby was in a strange place and would not sleep in her portable crib. The little bundle of sweetness has graciously started teething and no longer requires that swaddle you found on some obscure website. Also, the months it took to convince said baby that Mom was not a pacifier have been shot to hell overnight. Add in some tryptophan and Mom's ready to plummet face first into her plate.

The son slept soundly in his inflatable bed on the floor of the guest room,  but you would never know it, because he is running around in circles and bouncing off walls like a pinball to burn off energy. Usually he gets to play outside, but it's cold and everyone is inside. The only thing that will keep him still and occupied for a minute is watching YouTube videos on Dad's phone. Cue the judgement.

The food is delicious and heavenly, but after the second baby the weight just won't come off. Please don't tell Mom she looks great as she balances a plate of food on her wobbly stomach. Thanksgiving dinner looks like too many nights at the gym that she will never have time for. Appreciate the thought, though.

The parents have not had a spare moment alone since the oldest was born. Holidays included. All the teenagers and college kids acting all moony and the older couples who don't even make eye contact any more make them feel alone and depressed. Divide and conquer, and hope that someday they will be reunited. WE. ARE. SPARTAAA!

What you realllly won't see is the aftermath. Children thrive on schedules, so even if the travel is for "just a few days", this throws children off and sends them careening on a downward spiral... with consequences lasting for days. Days = months in parenthood. It's science.

The son will refuse to nap. So will the baby. There will be LOTS of crying and tantrums. It will bleed into school the following Monday. Then an explanation to teachers will be expected. "It was a rough weekend. That must be why my son beaned you over the head with his Lego tower." Awkward.

The bags will lay unpacked in the parent's room for days. Laundry will pile up and baby girl will have to wear big brother's old onesies. OLD. She will scream and cry at the indignity. Mom and Dad will finally get a breather after coaxing the children into bed by threatening them with "Santa won't come if...!". The parents will then promptly fall asleep to Netflix. At 8:00 p.m.

What I want to constantly scream is "We're battling sheer exhaustion! Nothing will fix that, not even sleep!" To you a day or so of travel may seem like nothing. To us it's like Mount Everest.

The truth? I love you. I love you ALL. But when it comes to dealing with small children, please try to understand. I love my sanity and my schedule more. For now. 

"It's just one year."


Happy Holidays,
The Hot Mama

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Chronicle 52: There's No Place Like Home


I have a zit. It has taken up residence right between my eyes, popping up sometime between unpacking the 867th box of dishware and the intensive process known as shopping for living room furniture. Too busy to "woe is me", I handled it vigorously with my Clarisonic and a healthy swab of Witchhazel.
Witchhazel is an astringent that can be used as a spot treatment.
 It can dry your skin out pretty quickly, so use sparingly.
Then I wake this morning to find that my zit invited an overnight friend, and this zit is not so...friendly. First of all, no introduction or warning was given. Second, it planted itself right on the tip of my nose. It's like a welcoming committee. Which, admittedly, fits in with my current life theme.

Welcome back, mamas & friends (and hopefully readers I don't know yet). Yes, I took a brief hiatus. Ok, make that a LONG hiatus. It was a year; a year full of highs and lows and new experiences. I met some incredible people, and lost one too. I finished my first year of teaching (I. AM. ALIIIVE!) after staying home with baby G. 

The last 3 items in our old home, before we handed over the keys!
But, the biggest and most life changing thing JUST happened. Like a week ago happened. WE (packedupallofourbelongingsand) MOVED!! It was a life changing move. Like a leave a place you've lived for 28 years, family, friends, job, etc. move. It's turning out to be a brand new adventure, can't wait to explore and meet new people move. 
It was quick, but certainly not painless. In fact, I'm sure that if we ever move again I will need a healthy dose of... several things. If you've ever moved, even to the house or apartment next door, you KNOW it's a pain. The logistics and labor alone cause stress: stress on family, friends, kiddos, and marriage. in effect, it's one of those tests that life throws your way to keep you in check. That's how I came to look at it: a way to test my strength.

The best part about a cross state move? It will continue to test me. Finding my way to the grocery store, meeting other young families, keeping up with a bigger home, interviewing for a job in the local district... the list goes on and on. And while I was faced with these tasks at my old home, I was comfortable. I knew my way around. I had my friends. Here? I have to get my Sacajawea on. Wait... am I leading two men? I guess I am! :)

Our kitchen was put together a day after we moved! I can't claim all the credit: my amazing
family friends showed up to help. Love them!
We have most everything unpacked. The next step is organizing EVERYTHING. Luckily we moved into a bigger home, so we didn't have to worry about making things fit. We just have to worry about making them pretty! (That's my newly adopted phrase for organizing. So much better, right?!) 

This is the funny part: I've actually been researching! I've been reading articles, magazines, and books for ideas. It's your turn, mamas! How do you organize your toddler's room? Your pantry? Your playroom? I foresee several trips to the Container Store in my future!

Meanwhile, we're trying hard to stick to our routine and settle in to the new home. As you can see, Baby G is well on his way! 


Can't wait to hear from you again, mamas!

xoxo, 
The Hot Mama

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