So I was a little crabby (read: dramatically depressed and angry all rolled in to one) when Daddy said he had to work on Mother's Day. I was all, "But it's MY day! MINE! I need pampered and loved and the WHOLE DAY OFF, dammit!"  It is entirely possible that I sulked. My feet may have been heavy to the ground too. I also plead no contest to the accusation that I was putting the dishes away loudly. Ok, fine, I deep sighed a lot too. But then,  moments later I was given the perfect reminder that I needed to zip my lip and get a hold of myself. 

Mr. Pants had been doing what he does best (getting into things he's not supposed to) when he sauntered on over to me with something in his hand. He gave it right to me the first time I asked. It was an old CD. One that was very important to me.

Seven years ago I went to Grand Central Station with my best friend. We wanted to be a part of StoryCorps, an awesome living history project that began recording stories of survivors after 9/11 and eventually expanded to become an oral history project filled with the voices of any and all Americans who wanted to record an interview. Preserving life, one hour at a time. Below is an excerpt of the interview I did with Jessica, my best friend of over 20 years now. There were three of us in the room that day. Jessica was pregnant with her amazing daughter. After talking about what it felt like for her to be pregnant, she asked me a seemingly simple question. Have a listen...

I can still feel that turn in my stomach as I fought those tears. The flush in my cheeks. The feeling of my breath leaving my body and not coming back quick enough. The pause of my heart. I remember it like it was just yesterday. What if I never become a mother?  I remember when my heart started to beat again. It sped up too fast. When my breath came back it hurt. This moment in my life was so powerful. It's one I will never forget. 

I want to go back and give that girl a hug and tell her to take a deep breath. And that there are two babies waiting for her. That belong to her. They are already a part of her. She just doesn't know that yet. And it is even better than she thought it could be. It's harder too. A much bigger job than she thinks it is right now. 

I want to tell her all about her kids. That her first born will be a son. That he is an awesome ball of energy that will challenge her to be better.  He will help her find her way with him. All she has to do is let him. I want to tell her that her daughter will come 21 months after her son. And that her emotions are sometimes bigger than she is and it overwhelms her. But she knows how to help her through that. After all, she knows the feeling. 

I want to tell her that it's coming. It's just a few years away. To hang in there and not worry. But I know that she will worry for years. Waiting. Hoping. Loving her future babies. Almost giving up hope so many times. 

But I cannot go to her and tell her. So instead I tell myself that the holiday I so desperately wished would someday be mine to celebrate, is not about a day in May to run away from them. Maybe next year I will spend the day at the spa being pampered. But this year is a reminder that my dreams have come true. I waited a long time for sticky fingers and slobbery kisses. I have waited what feels like a hundred years to hear those sweet words come out of the cracker filled mouth of my toddler. I wuv you, mommy.

Oh, My loves, I will love you forever.

So this Mother's Day I'll be at home soaking up the gift I have been given, the love of these babies that are mine. Finally. And I can't think of any spa that can compete with that. 

Happy Mother's Day. Especially to those of you still waiting for your babies. 
May you find them. Keep believing. 

A note from Mama: I wasn't going to publish this. But he told me to. Life is messy. Love is hard. I like being honest. So here's your Pearl. Even though this one might just be for me. 

The Mister and I went on a date yesterday. It was long overdue. So very long overdue.  We had dinner at a wonderful Mediterranean restaurant where I took one of those pictures of my food like people seem to always do.  It looked like this. 

That was the last picture I took. Even though I had planned to document the date (I can't help it! I'm a blogger). But  to my surprise the camera never came back out. We walked around downtown after dinner and checked out a few stores and then sat at a bench for a few minutes right in front of a popcorn joint. Our conversation came after a few moments of silence. "Man, we have been through some shit this year, huh?" "Marriage! It's freaking hard, man!" "Oh and parenting? It's so hard!" "I'm proud of you" "I'm proud of you, too" "I think we can do this" "Me, too." "Let's go shopping" "OK!"


Something very interesting is happening to us. We are finding our way back to each other. 

<needle scratches off the record>  Say what? You were lost?! 

Yep! Yepper! Yup! Lost like Jack and Kate. Poor poor dead Jack and Kate. 

My tendency to hold the kitten too tight until it suffocates is well documented. His tendency to dive inward is too. There is no such thing as a marriage without issues.  I'm not going to detail ours here or anything because that's not your business even though I love you and usually have no problem barfing out all of the information here on the webternet. No, I'm not going to detail them because they are ours. Mine and his. The important part is that we have them and I know we are not alone. Because, and I might have said this before but, marriage is freaking hard, man. 

Recently I eased up my grip on our fuzzy kitten of a marriage. I am learning that I cannot control it all. That sometimes, it will suck. That's life. It's not real to never have a bad day. It's not real to be shooting rainbows from your face 24/7. But what was very real was my vice grip on that precious kitten. What was very real was our disconnect.

I am learning that hard times do not signal doom. Hard times are not a reflection of me. Of him. Of us. Hard times are just that, hard times. We go through them. We go through them working our hardest to be our best self.  We go through them hoping for the outcome we want. We go through them. We can get through them.

So he's proud of me because I have been working hard. I am proud of him because he is too. We had crawled into a cave when we became parents. Our lantern burned out while we were in there. We are awesome parents (what!what!). But the darkness made us unable to see each other. To see the marriage. The awesome, exhausting and enormous job of raising people gave us an excuse to stop caring for it, too. But recently these two crazy kids lit up that cave for us, held up a mirror and showed us our reflection. And it's because they did, we could see each other again (How's that for an off the hook metaphor? Nope, it sucked. I'm tired).

We are working on us. And the faith in my heart for us is gigantic. Gigantic. Basically it's Gigantor. 

So your Pearl is this... 

Marriage. It's so freaking hard. But nothing worth doing is going to come easy. Somebody, somewhere said that better than I just did. But it's late and I don't have any more time to write. The Mister is coming home from a well deserved night out and I am excited for him to come home.

*Sunday's Pearl is something kind of like wisdom wrapped up in an  idea or random bit of something or another. It might be something awesome, something awful or a lesson that I learned during the week. Every Sunday I put that lesson here. Let my wisdom words inspire or frighten you. xoxox, Mama Pants *

Dear Parents of Older Children, 

I've been wondering some things. Well, a lot of things but I have pared them down to avoid being here for days. Nobody has the time to answer my original 268 question post. So here are the top twelve.  Thank you for your wisdom in this matter as I am at a loss on some of these. 

1-3. When do you stop picking your children's boogers? And for that matter, why does it come so naturally that I might even grab snot from their nose when there is a tissue box within reach? What is my problem? 

4. I need to know when the exact day is when I know that the children are awake but I get to stay in bed and keep sleeping. I will know this because no one will empty the contents of the fridge onto the floor or climb in the washer and dryer. I need to know so that I may start a countdown calendar. 

5. When do you stop worrying that they are going to starve to death? Does preparing food for them become more or less stressful as they grow? Follow up question: When will they just cook for themselves? 

6. When do they stop letting you hold them? Obviously this answer is "never" but I thought I'd check.

7. When do they actually clean something? Anything. Anything at all. 

8. When do they actually participate in the ritual of getting dressed? Specifically do they ever stop using "fish-flop foot" and "noodle leg"? What about the phenomenon of them forgetting how to hold up their own bodies while the pants are getting pulled up? Follow-up question: Is there a time when they actually get dressed the first time you ask? 

9. When do they actually hand you things instead of throwing them at you or dropping them and running? (Example: When will "Please bring me the wipes" no longer sound like "Please pick up the wipes, chuck them at me as hard as you can and then run to your room"?)

10. When do I get to close the bathroom door? When does taking a poop become less of a family affair? Follow up question: When will my toddler stop trying to escape the bathroom stall at Target while I'm still peeing?  Asking for a friend.

11. When will I be able to stop hiding my deodorant, the sugar, salt, raisins, mustard, shampoo and body wash due to the fact that the children no longer find them to be perfect artistic mediums? Related: When will they enjoy using actual art surfaces that do not include the walls, floors, their beds, windowsills and their own bodies? 

12. Finally, please be specific, when is the exact day I will stop busting out into the Dora the Explorer song"We Did It" and doing that ridiculous dance? It's beginning to cause some social anxiety for me. 

Thank you kindly for your answers. Have a wonderful day. 

xo, Mama Pants

"Go away, mama, pweeeeese! No grabby me, Mama. No grabby me." ~Mr. Pants (today)

I wasn't trying to grab him. I was trying to hug him. To help him off the floor where he lay after falling. I wanted to hold him in my arms and kiss his boo-boo. But that's not what he needed. So I walked away but not until I told him I'd be in the next room if he wanted my help. Walking away is mega-tron hard for me. It almost feels like I'm trying to walk through a protection spell on Buffy. Every cell in my body is screaming at me to go scoop that baby off the floor and smother him with my love. But my brain pushes me forward reminding me that it isn't what that baby wants or needs. "There is no blood. There is no broken bone. He asked you to leave him be. Stop being an exposed nerve of weepy feelings and do what your kid needs you to do. Get gone, mama."


The trainer becomes the trainee...


Before I was a mom, I worked with moms and their kids. I also trained staff on how to interact with children. So, if I had a dollar for every time I said the words "Every kid is different", I'd be living in a penthouse overlooking Central Park. It's so very true and logical and obvious and all that. But you know what? I could kick myself in the shins for not developing that idea further. But that knowledge would have come from experience. An experience I was yet to have. Until now. 

My kids couldn't be more different. Plum, a social butterfly. Pants, a solitary man. This in and of itself is no trouble at all. I want my kids to be who they are. I respect them for who they are and I actually love that they are so very different yet care so much for each other. So what's the problem? Well, it's me.

I'm an extrovert. I'm huggy and touchy and feely. I talk a lot. Even to people I don't know. I'm a hasher-outer when things get tricky. I wanna discuss and get to the bottom and take care of things. And if my words can't help crate a solution, well, then my loving arms will start a-hugging and I will kiss it all away. Closeness and soft whispers of my love for you will help us both feel better. Right? Right???

For Plum, the answer is an easy and comfortable "Yes! Hug me! Love me with closeness! I feel better!!"  But for Pants? Oh hell no. Hell to the OH. HELL. NO. And it makes me nervous and weird and uncomfortable. It goes against my skill set. It makes me have to think of how to parent him all the time. I am always thinking. Always considering tone and eye contact when he gets hurt or in trouble or fights with his sister, over stimulated or is hungry etc etc etc. 

Shit, it gets harder...

As a baby this came fairly easy. He was our first and we knew no different so we were able to roll with the punches because we didn't know that it wasn't this hard for everyone. We thought we were just earning our parenting street cred and that eventually we would "get it" and it would all fall into place and we'd hit a stride that made sense. But the more he grows and the more independent he becomes, the more I am challenged to change me. Not him. It should have tipped us off that he was at his most comfortable floating in a bathtub with our hand placed just under his head and no other contact. 

He is who he is. And he is just fine being who he is. It's how we parent him that needs adjusting. I need to keep in check my extrovert Loud-y McLoud shorts while trying to parent this amazing and foreign (to me), introverted personality that needs space. He needs room to feel. To be alone. To process the shifts and changes that hit him harder than the rest of us. To relax, center and regulate without my grabby-grabby "come to mama" arms trying to kidnap him. So I have been doing just that. pulling myself back from the instinct to run to him and help. It's face-numbing at times that my version of helping doesn't help him. My way, is not his way. So I am learning. Day to day. I am adjusting and trying new things that feel weird to me but seem to be working for him. 

It's a waiting game...

I hate waiting. But this kid makes me wait. Of course he does, right? But if I wait, if I let him process his stress the way he chooses to, he will eventually come to me for that hug. But only if I wait. Only if I respect his needs first.  It's funny because I have always believed in listening to and watching your baby for cues. That babies know what they need and that they communicate those needs to you. It is then up to you to pay attention. It is how I mothered both of these babies when they where without words. When I didn't know what they were communicating, I remember thinking that I wished they could just give me a few words to tell me where it hurt or to tell me why they were sad. Well, they have them now. And they tell me all the time. It is still my job to listen. Even when the words are not the ones I want to hear. It's not easy being told to "pweese leave me alone". It smacks me in the heart sometimes. But he's telling me and I wouldn't be doing my job letting him be his own person if I didn't respect that. I might have to glue myself to the chair, but I am learning to wait it out. 

In conclusion, I have no idea....

So these days of almost four years old and all the independence it brings are filled with fine lines and constant reminders that even though I grew these two in the same body and they live in the same house with the same parents, it isn't fair to them if we streamline our parenting and force them both to be parented the same. Sure, the basics are the same. The rules are the rules, man. But it's important that we remember that their needs are not same. And shouldn't be treated as such. Now if I could just learn how to predict the future, I could tell you how this all turns out. But alas, that the fun of parenting right? It keeps you on your toes. 

To be continued...

Are your kids introverts? Extroverts? Both? 

Hey there mama, 

I'm writing to you because I remember how amazing it was to be expecting my babies. With your first baby there are the amazing months before finally becoming a mama when all the possibilities are in front of you as you feel your baby growing. It feels like it takes forever to get to nine months and you are just so excited to meet the tiny person who has made you a mother. Your next pregnancy,if you go for another, will perhaps, fly right by as you are chasing  around your first born.  

The thing about being pregnant that I also remember is how perfect strangers and not so perfect strangers seemed to take the opportunity to offer me advice at every turn. Some people were very sweet. Some... not so much. Others were well-meaning but a bit over-bearing. While still others were just off the wall. I remember people in the store wanting to touch my belly. It shocked me at first but then I realized that there is something that stirs in people when they see you creating new life. I think it makes us feel connected to beauty. Connected to life. Because there is nothing more inspiring and hopeful than a new baby, is there? I think the instinct is to reach out and be a part of that amazing love growing right in front of them. I think it is basically human to want to be near it and somehow connect with that perfectness. And unfortunately for you trying to get your apples and milk at the store,  that can translate to stranger old ladies wanting to feel your belly,  but don't worry, all of that said, you don't have to let them. Especially if they don't ask first.  

So as I was putting my hippy-dippy spin on personal space invasion during pregnancy, I started to remember the other things people said to me when they found out I was knocked up. Ya know, after the pleasantries are done. The conversation will go like this...

Stranger: When are you due?
You: In 5 weeks!
Stranger: Awww babies are a blessing! Do you know what you are having?
You: Yes, a little girl.
Stranger: <insert whammy phrase from below list here>


"You will never sleep again" - I say, yes you will. There will be a day when you sleep well again. But in the beginning it's gonna be broken up a little. Sure, there will be long nights ahead but they won't always be, mama. All babies eventually sleep through the night, some sooner than others but they get there. And you will sleep well again. Yes you will. 


"Treasure the moments when they aren't mobile. Once they start walking you're in trouble" - I say once they start walking, the adventures begin. Once they start walking the whole world begins to open up to them and it's incredible to watch them discover the world. I also say, sure, wear your comfortable shoes. No one ever discovered the world staying home, right? 


"It's been nice knowing you" - Babies, toddlers, children and teens take a lot of work, it's true. There is no getting around that. But they grow fast. They grow so so fast. You will have a social life when you decide you are ready to have one again. Right away or a few months down the road or even a few years. It's up to you and there is no set way to do it. 


"Are you sure you're not having twins?" - Ok, we've been really nice up until now. But this one? It's ok to go on ahead and flick a stranger between the eyes for this one. Better yet, if it's a family member that has the nuts to say this to you? You just feel free to punch them in the neck. Right at the Adam's Apple because then they will be paralyzed with fear as they struggle to breathe. Then say this -> I know you didn't just call me fat, you punk. 

"Let me tell you about this one time when my kid had a blister rash and everyone in the house got it and there was a quarantine and we had to call the CDC" - I'm not sure why people do this. People love to share horror stories.  Another common  horror story is this one....

"Oh man, my labor was horrifying. They had to stop me from chewing through my own arm. Let me tell you all about it!" -   I say this, I wish you an awesome birth. Your body is doing amazing things.**

"Make sure you... breastfeed-baby wear-use pacifiers-don't use pacifiers-buy this car seat-vaccinate-don't vaccinate-use a crib-co-sleep-back sleep-tummy sleep-do this-don't do that- blah blah blah blah-wokka wokka wokka" - 

To this I say, parenting is an amazing and wild and awesome ride. There a million and one possibilities and many people will try and tell you how to do it "right". I say, feed your baby, love your baby, hold your baby and go from there. Listen to your gut. Do your own research and come to your own conclusions. Ask for help if you need it (All moms need help. All.) But seriously, listen to you. Your body and brain are hard-wired for this. Your instinct will guide you, you just have to listen to it. You are going to be great at this. Congratulations, mama.

Love, Mama Pants



** Note: People with horror stories for new moms can eat a bag of worms.

It's been such a rough week. I have no other wisdom this week than to please love each other and to always remember that the world is good in so many ways. People are good. Life is good. Love is good. Be kind to each other and to yourself. Not just when tragedy strikes, but every day. Hug some more people today.

Oh and this here Coca-Cola commercial? It made me cry my eyes out. I cried the love tears. It just might be the most inspiring soft drink advertisement of all time. I thought I'd share it here with you. Have a watch and have a smile...Happy Sunday.

*Sunday's Pearl is something kind of like wisdom wrapped up in an  idea or random bit of something or another. It might be something awesome, something awful or a lesson that I learned during the week. Every Sunday I put that lesson here. Let my wisdom words inspire or frighten you. xoxox, Mama Pants *

My Babies, 

When I heard about the bombs at the Boston Marathon on Monday, I felt some of the things I imagine a lot of people did. Shock. Horror. Sadness that turned to anger. 


Why did this happen? Who would DO something like this? I hope they find this/these depraved human/s and slam justice down on them. What is wrong with people?

My heart beat faster. 

So I started to breathe. I recognized that I was about to spend hours watching live news feeds and scanning through pictures of the carnage. It was at this moment when I whispered to myself. Don't. You don't have too. It's ok. And so I stopped and I did the only thing that I could do. I took you by the hands, walked away from the computer and back into your lives. 

I left the sink filled with dirty dishes. The dishes won't be changing the world or helping to heal it in their own small way. And sometimes on days like yesterday things become so very clear to your mama. There is so much that is right with people. 

For the rest of the day we played. All four of us.  We giggled. We hugged. There were extra bubbles in your bath. There was no frustration when your snack hit the carpet. There was no rush to bed. There was no rush to do anything beyond being together. Oh, loves you are so young and thankfully there is no need to explain this awful thing to you today. But there will be a day when we do. I imagine what I say might sound like this...

We are all connected. All of us. When we hurt, others hurt. That is why we feel so very sad when we see others are hurting. When we love, others love. That is why our hearts fill up when we see love roll out across the country. When we practice kindness, we send kindness out in to the world for others to feel. Today that balance was thrown off. But only for a minute, my loves. Because you will see kindness and love swallowing up the hurt as people help each other heal. Human beings rise. They rise up and they hold up the grieving and they hug those who are hurting. Those are the people that we are. Love is always stronger. 

Pants and Plum, it pains my heart that there will be more tragedy in this world as you grow. But I promise that when it happens, I will not turn my back from you. I will not be swallowed into news feeds and slideshows of carnage. Instead, I will be still. I will be present with you. And we will work through our fears together, coming out the other side of them, ready to love this world that much more. Shining light into the darkness.

That is how we will change the world. 

Love, Mama

Never ever. Don't ever. DO.NOT.FOR ANY REASON engage in a poop diaper stand-off with your children. Instead, run like hell to them (think "I'm on fire") the second, and I mean the split second, they look at you cross-eyed with one hand tickling the snaps of the diaper. Because they are mocking you. 



It is NOT ADVISED to attempt to speak to them like rational human beings. They have NO INTENTION of being rational human beings because they are tapping at their diaper closures like a pistol in a holster, dude (I'm your huckleberry). They are watching your heart beat faster. They can feel it from across the room because of all that bonding you did with them as newborns!  They think this is hilarious yet they are cool as a cucumber because They know they hold the cards.  


Please do no not try to employ boundary lessons at this time, I get that you want them to make good choices on their own, but this? This right here is GO time. 


So instead of trying to calmly walk to them lest you startle them into ripping that diaper off? Hey, guess what? They are going to rip it off anyway, man! That's the entirety of their goal. Never forget that you are Johnny Ringo, they are Doc Holliday. So here is what you do....


Using your best and most ridiculous loud, but non-scary, voice (think Ed Grimly/Pee-Wee Herman/The Swedish Chef) begin to go hog wild with your legs and arms as you travel toward them. Don't look them in the eye as this will be met as a challenge. Your aim here is to throw them off long enough to get near them. This technique, when properly applied, will delight the child's brain long enough for you to grab the wipes and properly change that diaper. 


Happy Sunday, My Lovelies. It is my hope for you that you never need this lesson. But you know...you probably will. You can do this. 

*Sunday's Pearl is something kind of like wisdom wrapped up in an  idea or random bit of something or another. It might be something awesome, something awful or a lesson that I learned during the week. Every Sunday I put that lesson here. Let my wisdom words inspire or frighten you. xoxox, Mama Pants *

It's no secret that I am a Pinterest failure. It's pretty ridiculous, really. Even the easy stuff. But this activity? I couldn't mess this one up even if I tried! Go Me! I'm over-doing the exclamation points! Anyway, looky-loo at what we did the other day with Mr. Pants' Head Start home visitor...she's a genius. PS: I love Head Start!

What you need: 
Corn starch, water, food coloring, painting sponges/ really thick brushes (at the dollar store!), a muffin pan (pick up one at a thrift shop for 50 cents!)

Make the paint: 
Mix equal parts corn starch and water. You want the paint to be pretty runny so that it spreads onto the sidewalk or driveway easily. Pour the mixture into the muffin pan and color however you want. That's it. There is nothing you can do to mess this up. Nothing. Because if there was, I would have found a way. But there just isn't a way. Easy peasy. 
Prep time is like 90 seconds. So you can do this on the fly no problem.

Do it:  
Take it outside and have fun! Note: grungy clothes a must! This is a bit sloppy and drippy. It will most definitely get onto their clothes. I mean, I don't want to live in a world of only clean painting, do you? 

This was a BIG hit with these two silly people. Here are some highlights. 

So, get out there and paint the sidewalks! Kids are not even required. Although they thought it was crazy cool. You could go out and paint the sidewalks this summer just for you. I just might.

Oh and total cost for supplies that will last all summer?  

6 bucks, dude.

I've been a bit lazy in the way of blogging this week. Forgive me. I am sore and am painfully aware of muscles I had no idea existed thanks to my the ruthless commands of a totally hot trainer that I didn't want to disappoint. I mean I was sore before he made me plank and do crazy things yesterday morning but that's a whole other post. 

Going back through my phone for #iPPP pictures I noticed that in the last few weeks, I have made some big decisions about my health. I have a new attitude and resolve. But my kids could care less that mama's legs feel like wet noodles or that picking them up feels like someone is stabbing at my arms with a heated screwdriver. Nope. They are continuing on with their little lives oblivious to my pain and my plans. Little egoists. But I forgive them their childish ways. I mean there's a video at the end of this post where Plum tells me she loves me. So it's all gold. I'm easy to win over even when my body feels like I was trampled by bulls. 

Here's what's been happening the least few weeks on the Pants Ranch. First I got screened. Because of my history of cervical cancer, I have to go every year. Other ladies can go longer between appointments. No matter your category, pretty please go get your paps, ladies. They saved my life. 

I hate waiting for results, as you can imagine, so we took the kids to bounce house heaven. You think this is a blurry picture. I would argue that this is just what he looks like as he runs by. He makes me tired just watching him. 

A few days later, still waiting on the status of my girly parts and contemplating big changes in my life, I had a moment with my kids. It was the moment. The moment when things became so much clearer. They just sat with me. As though they knew I needed it. I had to capture a picture of it. It was the moment I decided to care for myself. We were still and quiet and everything just opened. 

A few minutes later Woody and Buzz turned on the TV and came to plead their case for watching Kipper the Dog. 
Just a normal day. 

More time went by. A week, actually, and I am still waiting to hear from the doc. I can think of no better thing to do than go to the Mother-Son dance at Pants' school. I think he looks pretty damn excited. Don't you? 

A few minutes before the phone rang, I took this picture. A picture of my beautiful girl with the sun coming through the windows as though it shined just for her. 

Exhale. All clear. I can breathe again. Seven years now. I spent a few minutes crying happy tears with myself as is my tradition when I get the all clear. Then it was time to get outside and live. It's finally spring. Our windows are finally open. The sun is shining. And good gravy if I didn't get Plum on video saying she loved me. 

"You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming" ~Pablo Neruda