Friday, January 27, 2006

"Special Needs"

Beloved Offspring #2 has a mild disability and has been labeled as a child with “special needs.” It was a daunting phrase to hear at first, but the reality is that every child has little quirks and specific preferences, like having the crust cut off of their sandwiches, needing to have their forehead stroked to help them fall asleep, seeing Daddy do a special monkey dance before heading off to school (preferably outside in the driveway where all the neighbors can see it, too), singing their favorite Wiggles song to stop a tantrum or having their hotdogs peeled (thanks, mom). These particulars are part of what makes each child “special” and unique.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Waxing Nostalgic

Despite their tiny attention spans, kids are remarkably observant and anything new that has appeared in a room will attract them like a moth to a flame – especially if it happens to actually be a flame. I miss my candles.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Michael Finnegan

Sometimes while singing childrens' songs for the thousandth time, my mind starts to wander....

"Michael Finnegan, he had whiskers on his chinnegan.
The wind blew them off but they grew in again...."

(Where exactly does this Michael Finnegan live? Will this wind work on my legs? When will I find time to take a shower?)

Friday, January 13, 2006

Profile: Beloved Offspring #3

Favorite Maneuver: Face-Down Full Body Slam

Advantages: Very effective for adding extra drama to tantrums and extra affection to hugs and cuddles.

Disadvantages: Disastrous results when used after vomiting in crib

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Taking Care of You First

All the Mommy Magazines have articles about taking care of yourself, because you can’t take care of anyone else unless you take care of you first. I thought they were referring to making time for a massage at a spa once in a while or joining a weekly book club. Those are good quick fixes, but taking care of you has a bigger meaning. The reality is, it means making time for an annual physical and an occasional dental appointment. And if you need to meet with a therapist, go to a 12-step meeting or get new glasses, it means that, too.

This whole concept can be seen in the safety speeches given by flight attendants. While explaining the oxygen masks, they always say that if you’re traveling with a child you should secure your mask first, then assist the child with his or hers. Before I was a mom, I always thought that was odd. If I had an uncomfortable, squirming child in my lap it seemed to make more sense to get him or her settled and safe as soon as possible. But then I realized that in that situation, I’d be unconscious long before I finished with the child. I certainly wouldn’t be able to care for the child while I was passed out, no matter how much maternal instinct I have. So, if I’m ever on a plane with any or all of my beloved offspring and we loose cabin pressure I must take care of myself first or I literally won’t be able to take care of them. Lesson learned. Buh-bye.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

A Strange Male Habit

There must be something about the hormone testosterone that forces males to show off their knowledge. I first noticed this as a teenager while watching TV with my father. Whenever someone on screen toted a weapon, my dad would identify it. “That’s a .45,” he would chime in from the couch. It went way beyond enjoyment – he actually seemed compelled to do this. He would often wake up from a sound sleep to announce, “That’s a semi-automatic.” Then he’d resume his snoring. Naturally, since I was a teenager, I found this habit slightly annoying.

A few years later a friend started dating a musician. As we sat around at her parents’ house watching music videos, he would identify the guitars. I found this, and him, intolerable. Since then I’ve noticed other males doing this identification thing with cars in driveways, trucks on the road and bands on the radio.

Then one day my train-obsessed toddler son pointed to the TV and squeaked, “An Amtrak!” This time I found this habit to be cute, charming and endearing. Not to mention a sign of his genius.

I realized that my attitude toward this particular male-trait depended highly on my attitude toward the particular male. I hated the musician, so I hated the guitar labeling. I adore my son, so I adore the train identifying.

Babies of both genders go through that labeling phase, and when a chubby finger is pointing at an object and a drooling little mouth utters some baby talk all the grownups cheer and applaud. Maybe these males never leave that stage. Maybe they are still longing for cheers and applause. But I still don’t like the musician.

Monday, January 02, 2006

Sandwich Geometry

We all have fond memories of the foods we ate as children, and if those yummy PB&Js happen to be cut diagonally then that is probably what we prefer as adults. But try to serve a diagonally cut PB&J to a child who is used to the down-the-middle style of sandwich and you will immediately have a meltdown on your hands…not to mention lots of PB&J on your hands (and on the walls and on the floor…).

Back when I only had one beloved offspring I presented lavishly cut sandwiches as an early lesson in shapes. Yes, my dear son learned the difference between a square and a triangle. He also learned that mommy will spend lots of extra time and waste lots of extra bread while making his lunch. I sentenced myself to a lifetime (or at least to the length of an early childhood) of fun-shaped sandwiches. Apparently I had set a precedent.

Most children will swear that their preferred shape of sandwich tastes better. Maybe it has to do with the amount of air that hits the contents of the bread. I’ve done taste comparisons and honestly can’t taste any difference. But I’m not a four-year-old so my results are irrelevant.

It’s not just sandwiches, either. Apparently Mac and Cheese must only be made with elbow macaroni. Try using ziti, wagon wheels or spirals and chances are it will be refused – loudly. And chances are you’ll be up late making cheese sandwiches for your starving child. Triangular ones, of course.

Sunday, January 01, 2006

Welcome to Rosie Reality

I’ve been a lot of things, and been called a lot more. My occupations have included switchboard operator, actress, writer, singer, waitress, bartender, receptionist, teacher, babysitter, choreographer and nanny (not exactly in that order). Now I am a mom. Not just a mom – a STAY-AT-HOME MOM. I went from a washboard stomach to dishpan hands.

Many of my experiences have been exaggerated for dramatic effect – although I usually do it for comedic effect. Please don’t think that I am actually complaining about my life…well, okay, maybe I am, but understand that I understand how incredibly lucky (read blessed if you’re into that sort of thing) I am to have this life, and these children. Yes, I feel that I have faced some hardships but I know that in the grand scheme of the universe my life has been fairly easy, and that I am spoiled and shallow.