Mommy Needs a Makeover?

While I have been busy being someone else's mom, I have started to let myself go, apparently. I didn't realize it had gotten so bad until last night when I was at Art Night with Mia. We were sitting at a table in the school cafeteria while she worked on her shell creature craft. That's when Random Teenage Boy on the opposite side of the table informed me, "My mom has that exact same sweatshirt." At this, I stopped and looked at myself. I wasn't even wearing a sweatshirt. Whew! Dodged that one, right? Then, he looked at me pointedly and repeated himself, this time somewhat louder, "My mom has that exact same sweatshirt." Although his words had no inflection whatsoever, making it impossible to tell how he felt about this, it was now clear that he was, in fact, speaking to me. Then, I understood that he was referring to my very boring, basic, blue fleece jacket that I was wearing for pure practicality of the in-between seasons weather we are having. Obviously, I knew it wasn't high fashion when I put it on, but I had not really cared at the time. Now, I am rethinking this...

Especially after this morning's trip to the Kroger pharmacy. I have another sinus infection, which makes five since school started. UGH! Frankly, though, my misery of having yet another sinus infection has been paled by the exchange between Pharmacy Boy and myself. I have seen this particular kid before and wondered how old someone has to be to work there. He needed the pharmacist to verify the prescriptions before he could hand them over to me. While ringing up my antibiotic and nasal spray, he said something that made me inwardly cringe. It was, "Thanks, MOM... I mean, ma'am!" Oh my! I could tell that he was pretty mortified, something akin to when you think, I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole. So I said nothing, because truly, what could I say that would make that situation any less awkward? And just for the record, unless I had a very busy "extracurricular life" in say, eighth grade, I am not nearly old enough to be this boy's mother!

Ever since this experience, I have put in more of an effort with my appearance, or at least I think I have tried harder. It seems that I may be sliding a bit in this department, though, considering these two highly embarrassing moments that have taken place within the past 24 hours. Barring any recent scientific advancements that would allow me to get an injection of much-needed self-confidence (alas, I am aware of no such treatments), I think it may now be time to consider a mommy makeover. To be clear, I am not desiring to be more attractive to teenage boys. However, I would settle for looking like less of an obvious MOM-type figure to them. Is that too much to ask for?

So Many Firsts...

I thought last Tuesday was tough. I called it my "Day of Denial" because Logan turned 3 and Mia had her kindergarten open house, neither of which really seems possible. I have to admit that the open house wasn't at all what I expected. I actually had to sit in a seat meant for a 5 year old and fill out paperwork. Or, I should say more paperwork, because I certainly completed plenty of it back in March when we did the kindergarten round-up. I guess this was just the warm-up period, though.

We started in on the big, BIG stuff this week. Mia was so, so, so excited that she actually took two baths on Monday because she wanted to look nice for school. Truth be told, I was excited for her, too, and maybe just a bit anxious. Neither of us were able to get to sleep the night of Labor Day, knowing that she was off to kindergarten the following morning.

Yesterday, Mia had her first day of kindergarten, which was really a one hour "orientation" period during which I was bombarded with all sorts of parent information. She was happy to wear her new clothes (I didn't buy very much, but I felt like she should have a couple of new things), and had a blast. She came home with her traced hand with a heart drawn in the center and told me it was her "kissing hand."

Today was her first FULL day of school. Of course, that means she got to take her lunch box that we had gotten at a garage sale over the summer, and she was really excited about using it. I was worried about dropping her off in the morning, but then I just followed other parents and grandparents into the building (pretty sure this only goes over well the first couple of days, but decided to go with it). I am happy to report that there were no tears. I told her to have an awesome day and that I would see her later. Logan had a brief meltdown because he wanted to play with the toys (another good reason not to take her into the building on a regular basis), but Mrs. Myers quickly diverted it by saying we could go out the door to the playground (turned out that the equipment was wet, so it was easy to convince him to leave, thankfully).

Logan and I had a super busy day of our own including his 3 year well check, which he handled amazingly well (I am sure it helped that he wasn't due for any vaccinations). For anyone who is interested in his stats, he was 28 pounds (10th percentile, which Dr. McEwen was happy about since he jumped up from 3rd percentile at age 2) and 36 3/4 inches tall (25th percentile). He was a great listener and took off his shoes and got on the scale when the nurse asked him to. It was cute to watch him "play a game," which was her way of getting him to do the vision test. It's amazing what kids know, and surprised me when he identified circle, heart, hand, and cup shapes since he is always hit or miss with things like that at home. Must be that he performs well under pressure. Then he giggled his way through the hearing test, and lifted up his shirt and pointed to his chest when she asked where his heart was. The whole time, I was amazed by his patience and ability to follow directions. And here we thought he wasn't ready for preschool. Really, if he were just more consistent with using the potty, he would be there, it seems. How do my kids keep growing so fast? I can't believe he is no longer a baby.

After a trip to Kroger, we ran the groceries home, and then it was nearly time to pick Mia up from school. (I have decided that the term "Stay at Home Mom" is a misnomer because all I did was run from place to place today.) Waiting for Mia was difficult. I was starting to fret a bit because even though I knew that all of the kids had to go as a group to get the bus riders sent off and then come back by the classroom, I was anxious because her class wasn't back yet and other kids were sitting on the floor waiting when the parents were let in the door. Thankfully, another mom I recognized from dance class let me know that the other classes had just gone earlier, and they would be along soon. Mia was tired for obvious reasons, but she went along with Logan's idea of playing on the "purple playground" for a few minutes before going home.

We had a small amount of down time before we had to run again. I turned on an episode of Backyardigans while trying to get dinner pulled together. We had just enough time to shovel in some sloppy joes and green beans before I had to get Logan into his new shin guards (which are surprisingly difficult to find in little people sizes) and head off to his first soccer practice. He amazed me once again with his ability to follow directions and also with his patience for waiting in line. (Yes, he started to lag and lose focus, but they practiced for a full hour, which is really a lot considering it was for 3-4 years olds, and keeping in mind he is just 3, not to mention the fact that the coach's son is also named Logan and she kept putting them right next to each other so he would get confused about which Logan she was talking to.)

The uniform is beyond HUGE on him. We ordered the smallest size: Small. He would really wear something like extra, extra, extra small but I assume that size does not exist. The jersey is like a full-length dress on him and the shorts just fell off of him (This doesn't surprise me at all considering he can still fit into 12 month shorts). Oh, but he is so, so adorable. He really is the cutest soccer player ever, and I am thrilled to call myself a soccer mom.

{I think we all feel this way after our big day of firsts!}

Irony

Once upon a time I graduated high school and considered my career options. I very briefly considered being a nurse or doctor. (I had already given up the idea of being a vet after my dad pointed out that I would have to put animals to sleep). After some thought, these choices were definitely out of the question. I never liked blood or bodily fluids and considering that I would be dealing with sick people all day long and all of the gross stuff that goes along with that... well, obviously it wasn't a good fit.

Fast forward about 9 years when for some reason I decided that I was "qualified" to become a parent. Essentially, I had all the crucial elements in place:  a house, a husband, a job -- as a special education teacher, no less, which was surely good preparation for a kid, right?--, and our "fur baby," a deaf cocker spaniel we called Ruby. In other words, I had pretty much all of the important stuff, so I figured we were as ready as we'd ever be. Plus, we had the books, parenting magazines, hospital classes, family, and the entire Internet at our disposal to answer questions.

However, when Mia was born, I immediately learned the truth: there is absolutely, positively no real preparation for parenthood. It doesn't matter how many books or parenting magazines you read. It doesn't matter whether or not you took any or all of the classes that were offered at the hospital. Motherhood is hard work, full of thankless tasks and episodes of absolute panic.

The most ironic thing about it is that I have to do all of the disgusting things that I never thought I would be able to handle. Today for example, I was working on Icky, Thankless Mom Task # 1,852: removing dog doo from the tread of a tricycle tire (and a little girl's sandal). No sooner than this chore was completed, the same little girl accidentally spilled half of a gigantic bottle of bubble solution on the driveway. I was in no hurry to do anything about that.

Then, a crazy two-year-old, in typical boy fashion, decided to run barefoot (hey, it's summer) and jump into the puddle of bubble solution. I watched in horror as he flew into the air and slammed his head on the driveway with a resounding thud. Amazingly, I was more upset by this than he was. I took him inside and offered an ice pack from the freezer. He took one look inside and said "no," and then he requested chicken nuggets. I decided then that I didn't need to be too worried. If he's more concerned about eating chicken nuggets than he is about his boo-boo, he's probably going to be just fine.

So, I completed Icky, Thankless Mom Task # 1,853: removing wet clothing and mopping up sticky limbs and hair (while trying not to be upset about the large volume of bubble solution in his beautiful hair, which was just washed last night). Then, I called my husband to give him the low-down on Logan's injury, turned on an episode of Mighty Machines, and crossed my fingers that Brett would be home early tonight. I am so very glad that I do not have to do this insanely hard stuff all on my own.

Best.Weekend.Ever.

I am having a beautiful, blessed weekend. On Friday evening, Mia and I attended our first Mother/Daughter banquet at church. It was so fun to have Mommy/Mia time, and the theme was cupcakes, which we love.

Yesterday was my birthday. I'm 33 in case you are wondering. I would love to tell you I am 29, but I fear that those little "crinkles" (I'm not ready to admit that they are wrinkles...) that have cropped up in the past couple of years will give away my little white lie, so what's the use? To start off my day, I got to sleep in!! Then, Brett made me blueberry pancakes for breakfast. Heaven on a plate. After that, he gave me a super-sweet and amazingly thoughtful gift:

{I am not sure I did it justice, but the shoe is super cute!}

These are some shoes I found at DSW last year... They were so cute and amazingly comfortable, but not so practical, and being a full-time mom meant that I couldn't justify spending the money for something I didn't need. We waited and waited for them to get down to an acceptable sale price. Sadly, they never did and I was bummed at the end of the season when we lost out on the price-is-right-waiting-game. Enter Brett. A couple of months ago he informed me that a box would be arriving from Amazon, and that I was NOT allowed to open it. Do you know how hard it was not peaking into that box on the top shelf of the closet, especially when he told me it was my birthday present? My curiosity was heightened since I have not received a birthday present from him in about 3 years. (Okay, the back story there is he got me a lovely emerald heart shaped necklace on my 28th birthday, which like this year, fell on the day before Mother's Day -- my first Mother's Day. The problem was that the gift caused stress for us because he kept talking about how he shouldn't have spent so much money. However, I can't really wear it much. If you have little ones you know that they love to pull on jewelry. I have lost plenty of costume jewelry to little hands, and I definitely do not want anything to happen to something I will always treasure. I still don't know how much money he spent, and I don't want to know. All I know is that the necklace is beautiful and I love it. So, I think that this is why he has avoided giving me gifts for my birthday and/or Mother's Day since then.) Now, you can imagine my surprise when I found out what the contents of that box were.

I wore my new shoes to church today, and I felt so pretty. (Plus, I was relieved to discover that they continued to be comfy throughout the morning, and I didn't have any problems with my hip. I'm not able to wear heels any more sine it aggravates the bursitis in my hip -- yet another reason I probably can't get away with claiming to still be 29. However, I can apparently get away with wedge sandals. Hooray!) I think that he has resumed gift-giving at the perfect time, when I needed to be reminded that I am not just a mom; I'm a woman, too. And sometimes, moms need pretty things, even if they aren't all that practical. Now, if Logan will just out-grow the pulling phase, I can get back to wearing that emerald necklace.

After getting my fantastically impractical gift, it was time for me to pack up my gear because I headed off for an entire day of scrapbooking -- 8 whole hours to myself to do what I enjoy!! Oh, yeah, I even accomplished a few pages. One or two more sessions, and I should be able to finish the 2011 album. On a side note, while scrapbooking, my parents called to wish me a happy birthday. My mom asked if I felt "older and wiser." I told her, "Well, I definitely fell older, but I'm not sure about wiser." (It turns out that eating the fried chicken at the Mother/Daughter banquet wasn't a wise choice. I haven't had it in years, and there's a reason for that. It doesn't really agree with me, and it has been that way for awhile now. Oh, the joys of getting older. Do you see why I am in a bit of denial?)


Now, all joking about getting older aside, this was the icing on the amazing cake that was my weekend, a sweet hand-made Mother's Day card from a sweet little five year old. Brett must have patiently told her how to spell each word and I am sure it took awhile for Mia to write this message: "DEaR MaMa I HOPE YOU HaVE a HaPPY MOTHERS DaY." (Don't you love the backwards "S" in "Mother's?") The drawing on the left is a self-portrait of Mia walking her stuffed dog, Browna. So cute! 

Mia gave me another Mother's Day card that she made during Sunday School. Okay, this one wasn't really a surprise since I am the Sunday School teacher, but it's nice that she still wanted to make one for me.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that Brett got me a Mother's Day present, too. I got $30 in iTunes gift cards. Oh, to splurge on music for myself -- what a foreign concept! I am sure I will love it once I get over the shock and uncertainty. I don't know how many years it has been since I have bought a CD for myself, and the tiny little iPod I own (which I am sure is hopelessly obsolete as it has been sitting in a cupboard for quite awhile) never really got much use. I have never even downloaded my own music before. (Maybe doing so will help me to not feel so old.) Seriously. All the music I listen to is kid-friendly stuff I play in the mini-van while driving kids to and fro. It's either kids' music CD's, Disney soundtracks, or the Christian station, not that there is anything wrong with those. I enjoy them all, but sometimes Mommy misses country music and 80's rock, for example. (Another side note about how old I have apparently become: Do you know that they play 80's music on the oldies stations now? How can it be possible that the music I grew up listening to is now considered "oldies?")

So, now I need to back to my point that I really want to remember: My weekend was fabulous. I received beautiful, thoughtful gifts from my amazing family. But the best gift was the one I gave myself, the gift of some downtime (and not feeling guilty for taking it). I thoroughly enjoyed letting myself relax and celebrating the fact that I am a person, too. I went for a walk in the warm sunshine with my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, and this is the best part: there was no dog tugging on her leash or needing to have her poop cleaned up, there were no children whining that they were too hot/too cold/too tired/too whatever, there was no need to turn around and tell anyone to get his fingers away from the wagon wheels or to sit down or we'll have to go home... It's interesting that I know that I need to get to church each week in order to feel centered once more, but after 5 years of being a parent, I still struggling to understand how important it is to have me time. It really does make such a huge difference. Good thing I happened to have read this blog post recently, aptly titled, "Mommy Is A Person." Sometimes we need gentle reminders. Other times we need to be bombarded with the same message over and over. I think this weekend was cathartic for me in this way because it really helped drive home the message that even though I am all of this stuff to my kids, Mommy is also a person!

The Snot is Always Greener...

I love my children more than anything else in the world, but it is so frustrating when my plans to get together with other grown-up people are spoiled by one of them getting sick! I was really, really looking forward to seeing my college friend, Kelli, tonight and meeting her adorable little guy for the first time, too. Also, since becoming a stay at home mom, I've found that I am more inclined to want to go to different events because I need the time out more than I did when I was teaching. But our family outing didn't happen because Logan has pink eye. He is actually acting much better than he was yesterday when he woke up from his nap, but I knew we still couldn't go to the barbecue (not even if it was just me and Mia, because I would only want to share love, not nasty germs).

It was a lousy end to a very busy, but fun, week. We made it home from our trip to Minnesota on Monday evening, and then jumped right into VBS on Tuesday morning. We were exhausted each day after that so we never went anywhere else, which is why I am assuming he picked it up from the church nursery. (I was working in the craft room while Mia was in the preschool group.) It seemed odd to me that he was perfectly fine yesterday morning, but then he only took a short nap after we got home, and he woke up positively screaming in an inconsolable way that he hasn't done in a very long time! That's when I noticed his runny nose and the green goop coming out of his left eye. Up until this point, we've been lucky enough to not have pink eye in our family, but I took one look and knew that our luck had run out.

It was after 1:00 in the afternoon, so I called the pediatrician right away and was able to get him in at 2:30, which is fortunate because if it had been any later I am sure we would have had to go to Urgent Care. Logan screamed while I was on the phone, while I got him ready, and while I strapped him into his car seat. He continued to scream while I went to wake Mia up (She doesn't typically nap anymore, but like I said, we were exhausted from the week), and then he screamed all the way to the doctor's office (about a half hour drive). He screamed so much he made himself throw up at least twice. We were all pretty miserable during that car trip.

The good news is that the diagnosis was quick. Pink eye, of course, plus a double ear infection! Our pediatrician recommended giving him a shot of antibiotics since he had been throwing up and she wanted to make sure he kept the first dose down. I wasn't thrilled about it, but I knew it was the best thing to do. After some ibuprofen and a bit more screaming he calmed down and finally slept. The nurse said he would be like a different child that evening, and she was right. I was worried about how he would be after waking up since the previous wake-up had led to about three hours of incessant screaming.

I am so thankful for antibiotics. Okay, to be honest, I am not enjoying having to give eye drops to a squirmy toddler every four hours (especially when the pharmacist told me that we have to wake him up to give him the drops during the night!), but it's worth it to not have green goop coming out of his eye (and of course, to not have the inconsolable screaming that went along with it!). Fortunately, the oral antibiotic for his ear infection is easier to give since they added flavoring at the pharmacy. And, Logan has become more accepting of getting the drops once he realized that he gets a popsicle or sucker afterward.

Things are looking up. I am cautiously optimistic that Brett and I will get to go to the U2 concert tomorrow night. We've had this on the calendar for months. Even though I am bummed about not getting to see a friend who lives far, far away, I have realized that: 1) I am a good mom for trusting my instincts and taking him to the doctor. 2) Plans get changed often; it comes with the job description of being a mom. 3) There is always something positive to be found in crumby situations if you know how to find them. As odd as it sounds, I am thankful for the green eye goop, because if it wasn't for that, I wouldn't have taken Logan to the doctor and it would have been a few more days before I would have found out about the ear infection! (And you just know that there would have been more misery involved before we arrived at that diagnosis.) I wouldn't trade this crazy life for one without my children because even though there would be less green goop and I could probably see friends whenever I felt like it, I wouldn't be as strong of a person as I am now. Having kids has made me realize that I can handle just about anything that life dishes out!

But I'm Not That Old!

Age is an issue of mind over matter.  If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.        ~Mark Twain

On Mother's Day, our pastor's sermon included a description of "Millennial Moms" as an illustration of how moms make a difference in the marketplace today. (At least that's what I got out of it, and am recalling at this point in time, 3 and a half weeks later.) Anyway, I got more and more excited as he described these "Millennial Moms" because they sounded just like me. Millennial Moms are the ones who brought about mini vans, he said, because station wagons just weren't cutting it anymore. Hey, I thought, I drive a mini van! "Millennial Moms" are eco-conscious, he went on, and more and more often they are using cloth diapers. Again, this struck a chord with me. I am nothing but passionate about Logan's FuzziBunz! Lastly, "Millennial Moms" are blogging. Um, duh. That's totally me! Right?

But then our pastor's description of these awesome new moms took a turn downhill. He mentioned that they were between the ages of 18-29. Just when I had been looking at Brett and thinking happily that I was a part of some cool new group of totally with-it hip moms, he whispered to me, "You're too old." Okay, that is true, I thought but can't I just eke by? This was only a few days before my 32nd birthday, which isn't all that much more than 29. I mean, what's 3 little years difference? And what happened to Brett saying that once I got to 29 I could just continue to be 29? Ouch!

I had gotten over this, because, well, secretly I decided that I met all of the other criteria for "Millennial Mom" and so decided that I must be one. And then my future sister-in-law came to town along with her mom and sister, and they were interested in going wine tasting. Not being much of a drinker, I checked into this and found a couple of places that weren't too far away. We had a good time at the first. I even found a wine I liked, which has never happened before, ever. My mom was ecstatic that she had to show her id; the server simply asked everyone for it before we got started. I later decided that this was an excellent idea and that they should card everyone no matter where you go. It's just plain diplomatic. 

At the second winery, I went to use the bathroom first thing. When I returned, I asked if he had carded everyone. "Not yet," was the response from the server (who I later found out is the owner of the winery and really needs to brush up on his people skills!), but I only need to see theirs anyway," he said referring to Kristin (my future SIL) and her sister. I was crushed. And just a bit annoyed. And I have been stewing about it since Saturday. I keep trying to figure out how old I must have looked to him to not warrant checking my id. I had touched up my makeup and fixed my hair before we left, and I thought that I was stylishly dressed in an early-thirties kind of way (not trying to look younger, mind you, but still with the current decade...) The best explanation I have come up with is that I am a mom and I look like I am a mom, therefore, I look old enough to drink... and then some, apparently. I feel a bit sad about this, but I'll get over it. (I hope.)

It's sad to grow old, but nice to ripen.  ~Brigitte Bardot

Embracing Change

 "If things never change, there'd be no butterflies."

I read this quote in our church bulletin on Sunday, and it almost brought tears to my eyes. With another school year starting up, and having just completed my first year as a full-time mom, it hit home for me. More and more, I am realizing that all the junk that happened which led to my becoming a stay at home mom (which was never really my plan at all), may have been a blessing in disguise. 

I still get to teach kids all day, they're just my own. And, when you think about it, what I teach my own children matters a whole lot more to me than what I can teach other people's children. I get to be there for all of the moments, big and small, good and bad, that will shape who my children become. 

I am far from being a perfect mom, and although I may be harder on myself than necessary, I feel that this (not being a full-time working mom) is an opportunity for me to become a stronger version of myself. I have more time to work on the relationships that matter the most-- the ones with my family. And I have more time to focus on my own growth-- figuring out what makes me happy and finding a way to add more joy to my day to day life. I found this quote by Josh Billings that I think is apt,
"To bring up a child in the way he should go, travel that way yourself once in awhile."

What is a Mom?

Lately I've been bothered when filling out paperwork for the pediatrician, preschool enrollment, and such because the forms usually include an area to list my job. I have been leaving that section blank, which I don't like doing, because it makes it seem like I don't have a "job." This couldn't be further from the truth! It got me thinking about all the responsibilities and roles that I play as "Mom." There is no way they could all fit on a form unless I wrote really small:  

referee, personal chef, dietitian, maid, party planner, teacher, secretary, personal shopper, nurse, librarian, manicurist, exterminator, psychologist, cheerleader, photographer, family historian, coach, judge, entertainer, interior decorator, wardrobe consultant, financial planner, masseuse, hairstylist, chauffeur, Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, nose wiper, diaper changer, coupon clipper, and finder of lost things (plus other stuff that just plain defies categorization!) 

 Being a stay at home mom is a lot of work and just thinking about this list explains why I am usually so tired at the end of the day! "Child care provider" doesn't cover all of the bases. It's no that wonder people invent terms like "domestic engineer" to describe what we moms do. However, I'm not a fan of that term, either. So, what should my job title be?

The Second Time Around

We were sitting in McDonald's when someone from my mom's group said something simple but profound to me as I was feeding bits of cheeseburger to Logan (who was 9 1/2 months old at the time): "You never would have done that with Mia." She didn't say it in a critical way. It was just a statement of fact. I wouldn't have even thought to give Mia fast food until she was well on her way to her second birthday. But Logan was already over the stage of allowing me to spoon feed him and he knew how to handle ground burger, cheese, and bread, so I thought, "Why not?" and just offered it to him. That's the difference with the second child. You're so much more relaxed about things.

As a second time parent, I don't feel the need to call the pediatrician over every little bump, bruise, and tumble. I just go with my gut instinct about what is normal and what isn't. I've finally learned to trust that "momtuition" I have about my kids. I know when they're truly sick, and I rarely get out the thermometer for confirmation when I suspect one has a fever. The age-old hand on the forehead does the trick.

Logan eats just about anything, whether it's food or not. I've learned not to fight it. He puts everything in his mouth, no matter how hard I try to prevent it. I'm not nearly as concerned about germs as I was with Mia. Obviously, I don't let him eat things that I know are dangerous, and I draw the line at chewing on rocks. However, I've given up on stopping him from eating sand, grass, and dog food. It's a lost cause. Plus, I let him eat most of what we're having during meals. He seems happy that way, and it's just easier than continuing to make purees that he refuses to be spoon-fed. I will even admit that I let him have french fries for the first time recently. (I'm not saying that this is an example of fabulous parenting, but it kept him happy while we were in a restaurant and since he only has one volume level, sonic boom, this was better for everyone in that restaurant!)

Now that I have told you how having a second child has made me a bit more relaxed in my parenting style, let me tell you how I feel I have improved as a parent the second time around. First of all, I am home full-time, whereas before Logan was born I was a working mom. Second, we have switched to cloth diapers. This is better for sooooo many reasons, and I wish that I had realized this sooner. (see previous posts for more information) Then, there is the previously mentioned homemade baby food. I feel really good about that decision, and again, I wish I had done it with Mia, too. But I don't beat myself up over it because it's easier now to determine what is really important to my kids welfare. When it's your first child, everything seems like a major decision and you're afraid to screw up. Now that it's my second time around, I've finally learned not to sweat the small stuff.