The inner Samantha in all of us

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Kid-free weekend

For the first time in 3 1/2 years, we just don't know what to do with ourselves.

My folks are in town all summer and they decided (and we agreed) to take Hannah and Luke with them to visit my uncle in OC.    All weekend.

Now, we've taken overnight dates and weekends before.  But they were away vs. here.  At home.    And what a novel concept - a weekend away at home.  Who knew it could be so nice?

So after work yesterday,  Dave and I met for Happy Hour and dinner.   Straight from work.   Like we used to do.  

And for the first time, we didn't feel pressure to come home and see the kids before they went down for the night.  Because they weren't home.  And we felt guilt-free because we knew my parents were with them and we were comforted that they were in good hands, having a grand old time without us.

And then we came home.  He watched a movie on TV.   I leisurely surfed the internet...bought iTunes, read the news, skimmed the Hollywood gossip sites, caught up on e-mail.  All before 9pm.  Then we reconvened and sat in our living room and sipped wine and watched Friday night programming.  

Uninterrupted.  Relaxed.

A rare bliss at home.

No running around to make dinner for them and for ourselves. 

No drawing straws to see who got to bathe them.

No fighting with them to stay in bed after lights-out.

No wistful looks exchanged between Dave and I at the end of the night because of the realization that we'd have only 1/2 hour of alone-time together before collapsing into bed after a long week at work.

Just a quiet evening at home.  Like the old days.   With seemingly all the time in the world to ourselves.  

This morning, we slept in until almost 8:00am.  

Then we went for a run in the trails behind our neighborhood, together.    

After making a big breakfast in our kitchen, we leisurely sipped our coffee and we wondered and speculated on what to do today.  

Perhaps that art festival in La Jolla?  

Or a little shopping at Fashion Valley?  

Or a hike in Torrey Pines?

No naptime considerations to time-box our day's agenda.

No scurrying around before leaving the house to make sure the kids have all their snacks and gear before running off to our kid-friendly schedule of Saturday activities.

No coordination of who will be with which child and when, so we can run errands and get in precious-few "me" moments during the weekend.  

We felt a rare peace.  

Yet we also felt eerily empty.

And tomorrow morning, they will return.  And sounds of  their laughter and giggles and fighting will again fill the house.  

We will again return to our seemingly chaotic weekend schedule and enjoy the rest of Sunday together in a kid-friendly manner  -  a birthday party at the park, a playdate, dinner at Pat & Oscars.

And for as much as Dave and I have longed to have the extra time together the last 3 1/2 years, we realize that we just can't stay away from them.

Bunko is the new Bridge

I have a pastime once a month and it is one of the few non-family, non-husband related extracurricular activities that I actually look forward to doing.

Bunko.

It's what bridge and mahjong used to be for my mom when I was growing up in the 70's - a time for busy moms to get together away from their husbands, the kids...reality, time to not have to think and take care of someone else, and time to just be YOU and be girly again.

But girly with a twist - a motherly, I-have-responsibilities-and-am-getting-a-hall-pass-just-for-tonight twist.

For many women, it's their one big getaway for the month. For me, it provides an outlet to rediscover my former self -- my pre-marriage, pre-babies self. It takes me back to the old days when I was single and had all the time in the world to spend with girlfriends having the typical, estrogen-filled discussions over the same tried but true topics:
Men.
Relationships.
Careers.
The glass ceiling.
Sex.
Shopping.
The latest collection of Tom Ford shades at Bloomingdale's.

And today, years (and weddings, and several pregnancies) later, it's a different group of ladies but we women still discuss the same topics, but with a new, slightly different filter.  (Add kids to the topic list!)

Rather than talking about THE ONE and what type of weddings we'd plan, we now talk about the importance of date nights and maintaining some semblance of a romantic relationship with our spouses.

Rather than trying to figure out men and the meaning of their every move like we did before, we recognize and accept that our husbands are pretty transparent -- what you see is what you get -- and we compare stories and learn that we are not the only ones who have to deal with not-involved-enough partners or too-involved-partners or semi-anti-social-partners (I'm not saying that Dave is any one of these people, by the way).

Rather than discuss our male hook-up escapades and compare tactics, we still talk about tactics, and we discover and learn new ways to make things more um,  interesting with our spouses in the bedroom when our everyday existence becomes mundane.  And sex becomes an event reserved only for adding to our brood (think: Bunko Challenge...ask me if you are ever interested.)

Rather than talking about graduate schools and the GMATs or GREs to advance our knowledge,
we still debate the merits of school - preschool, that is - comparing one over the other, and we list the benefits and drawbacks of private vs. public school education. Our knowledge swap consists of parenting tips and tactics. From potty training tips for #2. To redirecting power-addicted 3-year olds. To tips for raising our little girls into strong women. To coping with sleep deprivation. To handling our toddlers when when another one is on the way.

Rather than talking about that great deal on a new pair of designer jeans we got at Loehmann's, we ... oh we still do that.

And rather than talking about that next promotion or career step and making more money, we now talk about our work as "jobs", whether they are in the home, outside the home, or whatever or wherever each individual life calling takes us. We swap ideas and inquisitively discuss how to morph our "jobs" into passions that can help us do a better job balancing family life and the need to do something just for ourselves.

And we wonder and look in awe at the women around us and we ask ourselves how they manage to do it. And we feel better because we know we are not alone, and we have a wonderful network of women who can support us just because they listen, and understand.

(All of this while we role the dice and sip Merlot.)

Overextended

I royally messed up the planning of my twins' end-of-preschool-year class party this weekend.

Why?

Because I'm overextended, and as a result I was disorganized.
And I have so much going on right now that I don't know my head from my ass.

Dave reminded me that this screw-up is a sign I am taking on too much right now. Between the demanding nature of my job, being a mom, taking a parenting class, training for a half marathon, extra-curriculars and non-profit work, our busy summer social calendar, preschool class party-planning, and oh yes, blogging, way too much. Oy. With all of this juggling, I was bound to mess something up at some point.

And the sad thing is that I had planned this way in advance.

I put the sign-up sheet for potluck and RSVP on the parent's board up um, a month ago.

And I had carefully planned the potluck sign-up menu so that we had a good balance of the food pyramid for both preschoolers (protein, bread products, fruit, veggies, dairy and juice boxes) and parents (same food as preschoolers + beer).

Then I took down the sign-up sheet so I could create another fun poster on the board to remind the parents of the party. I was feeling oh, so momsy and involved and proud that I could be such the pre-school party planner given my full plate.
I really felt like I could do it all, dammit.

And then, in my state of busy-ness and chaos last week, I lost the damn sign-up sheet.
But all was not lost - I asked their teachers to put up a reminder sign. Problem solved (or so I thought).

It gets worse. I guess on the original sign up sheet (that no one seemed to have a copy of, except the one I lost), I wrote down the right day (Saturday), but the wrong date (Sunday's date). And of course, the teachers wrote down the wrong date on the reminder, my wrong date, but the right one as far as they were concerned.

So guess who got to call every one of the parents today tell them about the screw-up, my screw-up with the dates? Yup, me.

The good news is that I caught about 2/3 of the class and told them about the date of the party, and that most of them can come.

Oy.

What's your thing?

Most women have a thing.  

For some, it's shoes.

For others, it's purses.  

For me, it's sunglasses (and purses, but that's another post). 

And my latest coveted prize is Tom Ford's Raquel. 

I once read somewhere that a famous, fashionista first lady by the name of Jackie O had a big basket near her front door where she would put all of her fabulous designer glasses and choose one that suited her mood for the day.

Feeling luxe? Wear the Chanels.

Feeling fierce? Slip on the Dolce & Gabbanas.

Feeling some drama?  Wear the Guccis.

Feeling sporty? Put on those Oakleys.

Feeling a little Hollywood? Don those Diors.

Feeling inconspicuously classic? Wear the Tom Fords.  

I have about 4 pairs of sunglasses worth wearing, but I just have to have this one.  

Sunglasses are the perfect accessory.  Why?  Because you could be all junked out and casual in your track suit or old jeans & T and, because you are wearing fabulous glasses, you feel fabulous.   (Fabulous sunglasses have the same effect as fabulous jeans, by the way.)

Jackie O was a smart, smart lady.

Parenting lessons and the Woods (as in, Tiger) Family Playbook

I *heart* Tiger.

Best. Athlete. Ever. Period.

And the best role model I've ever seen on mental toughness and internal drive to be the best he can be. For nobody else but himself.

WOW.

So what does this have to do with augmenting our parenting skill-set?

Well, we're taking a page out of the Earl Woods playbook. Earl Woods. You know, the father who raised, mentored and trained the greatest and most mentally tough golfer, the greatest athlete, to walk the face of this planet?

Many criticize and say that Earl was hard on Tiger and pushed him into the sport. But talk to Earl and he claims it was all coming from his little boy.

Have you seen the new Nike commercial (called "Never") where they show old clips of young Tiger in his early beginnings of greatness with the voiceover of his late father?

"You don't really instill anything in a child. You encourage the development of it. "

Those are the first few words uttered by the late Earl Woods in the 60 second commercial.

Dave and I are taking a fantastic parenting class right now called Redirecting Children's Behavior. Last week's session was on praise vs. encouragement. And boy, did we learn that we were doing a few things, um, wrong.

Basically,
Praise = bad. (Well, not bad, really but not sustainable for the long term.)
Encouragement = preferred method.

Praise = External focus that often results in kids wanting to please mommy or daddy or other people besides him or herself. Such common culprits are "I'm so proud of you, Hannah" or "Wow, what a great job you did, Luke."

And what parent hasn't said that to her child? You read every parenting book and magazine and listen to every child psychologist who tells you that praising your child helps build him or her build self esteem. But the difference is that you are focused on how you feel as a parent about the child vs. how the child feels about their task or accomplishment. And it makes sense, it's an innate, human need to feel wanted and be recognized.

Encouragement = internally focused on the child and the child's feelings and his or her process of getting to the desired outcome.

Encouragement results in the child feeling and articulating how she feels about what she accomplished vs. having you the parent bestow your feelings and pride upon the child. This results in the child wanting to do this because it makes the child feel good, or it makes the child feel like she worked hard...vs. mommy being happy and proud about the task.

So what does encouragement look like?

Hannah was practicing writing her letters the other day and when she finished, she proudly showed me her paper with her crayon scribbled alphabet.

Me: Wow, Hannah, you wrote all your letters? How does that make you feel?

Hannah: (Expecting a praise statement from me and not getting it. Pause. Pause. Pause. Then all of a sudden...) Happy! It makes me feel happy. I wrote my letters! I did it myself.

Me: It's a nice feeling to work hard and get good results, huh?

Hannah: Yes, it makes me feel good.

Me: So, what did you learn?

Hannah: (Pause. Pause. Pause. Looks curiously at me since I've probably never asked her this question before because I typically praised her before I could ask her how she felt about the task...if I even did that!)
Well, I learned that if I keep trying, I will do good.


And with that, I learned and practiced a new parenting tactic, and hopefully Hannah learned a life lesson. It's not about trying to get praise and then stopping if you are not getting attention or not succeeding. It's about focusing on learnings and the process. It's about enabling them to recognize and find their own strength. And it's about giving them the tools to dig deep within themselves to cope and manage through issues and capitalize on opportunities.

Just like Tiger.

Encouragement vs. Praise.

BIG difference between the two. And probably a BIG difference in outcomes and self-esteem later on.

Who knows, really. But we won't know unless we try.

Part 2 of the Luke & Hannah Chronicles (more from Year 1)

More baby photos of our not-so-babylike-anymore babies.  

My, how fast they grow.

Photos! (Finally....) Year 1 (0-6 months)

I started blogging again to document Hannah and Luke...me...Dave...US.  But since I have re-started my blogging endeavors, I have yet to actually do a retrospective and chronicle the last few years together (as my Catholic guilt sweeps over me...seriously).

So here goes...and it all starts here.

And hot dayummm!

Why is it so darn hard to post photos as a WYSIWYG?

I guess I'll start another post with more photos then...

Chapter 2, more from Year 1 is forthcoming.

How much is too much?

Last week I signed up for this half marathon.  

To top it off, I signed up with about 5 of my co-workers, one of whom is a regular running partner.   So now this means I'm totally committed.  No backing out now.  

It's my second half race this year, after the Carlsbad race I did in January.

All of this said,  I must admit -- a small part of me is disappointed in myself for not doing the La Jolla Half in April.  I would have had a cool medal come August and bragging rights of having run the Triple Crown.  Of course, damn work got in the way.  And other more important priorities, like spending time with the twins and Dave.

But how much else can I do with everything I have going on?!  I guess I need to set limits for myself too or I'll probably make myself insane.

True Religions...Move over

I have a new favorite pair of jeans.  

Yes, the Hudson flap pocket jean, boot-cut stretch in Marcy Wash.

Wearing Hudsons is like wearing sweats (no joke) but WAAAY cuter and oh, so, un-momsy like.   Top this with a pair of wedge sandals and a cute pastel blouse and  voila!   Instant chic, AND they make you feel like a million bucks.  

And every mom wants to feel like a million bucks.

This little incident also helped put this lovely denim on top of my designer jean fetish list:

When I wore my Hudson's to work for the first time the other week, within 10 minutes of being there right after grabbing my morning coffee,  the most discriminating of fashionistas in my office commented on how skinny I looked (this, after my Spanx post  -- just so we all know I need help).   I knew it was the jeans immediately.  

(Oh, and flattery helps, too)

Hudsons, where have you been hiding all these years??

And why did I wait so long to buy you?!