Another Mommy Thing I Never Thought I'd Do

Rank it right up there with lollipops before dinner and skipping mittens when playing in the snow (not because I can't find them, but simply because they are a pain in the butt to get on). It's one of those things that I swore I'd never do with my children, at least on a habitual basis. And yet I've found myself back two weeks in a row, and I'm thoroughly enjoying it. The horrific "it" I'm referring to is none other than lunch at McDonald's. The best part is, I'm apparently the last mother on earth to discover this magical place as a viable option for a meal with a 2-year-old. Better late than never, right?

We've established a fun little routine on Tuesdays. After our new indoor soccer class, we follow the caravan to a nearby McDonald's for a quick, laid-back lunch. On our first visit, it took me 10 minutes to order and I was nervous about Daniel sitting alone with the other kids (see above photo). By the second visit, I had my order down pat and placed Daniel's food at the kids' table while simultaneously carrying on a conversation with the other Mommies. I always shuddered at the thought of becoming one of those moms who relies on fast food to keep her kids satiated and satisfied. I swore upside down and backwards that I would never resort to fast food on a regular basis. But then I tried it. And my practical side kicked the ass of the idealist in me.

Not only is McDonald's a great place with kids because of the speed with which you get your food, but said food isn't too bad in the taste department, either. I've stuck with the southwest salad with crispy chicken (a little indulgent, yes) and I'm actually enjoying it! Daniel seems to love the chicken nuggets (he'll eat 3 out of a 4-piece order, kindly leaving one for me to nosh on as I walk his tray to the trash can), and he ate the apple slices in week 2 with as much vigor as he ate the french fries in week 1 (don't worry, he'll learn). The piece de resistance? The Happy Meal toy, of course! For two weeks in a row, Daniel has gotten Star Wars-themed key chains -- one Darth Vader and one R2-D2. These trinkets are cool enough to keep him enthralled while he eats his lunch, even if he does forget about them once we get home.

At McDonald's, the tables and chairs are kid-friendly, in that they are bolted to the floor and cannot be knocked over. The mom-and-kid crowd basically takes over the place at lunchtime, so other patrons expect there to be children running loose. If your kids are well-behaved, then BONUS! You may actually get to chew your food and enjoy your lunch before it becomes apparent that your child is ready to leave (like when Daniel wandered over to the trash cans and started fishing around for surprises). After our week 2 lunch, I was in no rush to leave and I allowed Daniel to play outside on the "Playland" structure. As I watched him run and climb with a look of pure joy in his eyes, I thought to myself, This is great! My child is satiated, satisfied, and happy. And now he's going to burn off a little extra energy before going home to nap. What's wrong with that?

The Alterna-Playground

Daniel had no interest in napping this afternoon. After a long day at school, you'd think he'd be pooped. Nope! After "resting" in his crib for over an hour (I'm using quotation marks because he spent most of the time singing and playing with trucks), I admitted defeat and removed him from the confines of his crib. We headed for the playground, which is just a 10-minute walk from our house. The playground was crowded with moms and kids, all enjoying the beautiful spring-like weather. Daniel seemed excited to climb on the jungle gym, which he did, and then proceeded to make his way around to all of the equipment in about 15 minutes. Then he spotted the Bobcats.

They were parked in the lot by the playground, and each still had its snow plow attached. Daniel was awestruck. There was no turning back. The playground was a distant memory -- not nearly as cool as the Bobcats. Daniel has seen them before, plowing our driveway while we sat inside and looked out the window. But here we were, up close and personal, and touching was not out of the question. He investigated every inch of those Bobcats, from the "Caution" decals to the hydraulic hoses. This went on for at least a half-hour. I finally managed to pry him away from the Bobcats. He didn't go willingly, but I DID promise him that he could watch the construction taking place in our own street (Verizon is currently digging up lawns in order to install Fios). It was a trade-off, but at least I didn't have to explain the anatomy of a Bobcat for the ten-thousandth time.

A Simple Act of Kindness

This morning, as I walked out of Daniel's preschool after drop-off, I was stopped by another Mom. Her son is in Daniel's class and we have been acquaintances for a number of years. She started by acknowledging that she felt awkward about what she had to say. She mentioned that she had heard from someone else what I had recently been through, and she wanted to share her story with me. This Mom, who has a 7-month-old in addition to her son who is Daniel's age, told me that she had been through extensive fertility treatments with her first pregnancy. She wanted to recommend her doctor to me and to let me know that she was happy to help me out in any way she could. I was not only surprised to hear that she had been through a tough pregnancy experience (she does, after all, have two healthy kids who are just 2 years apart), but I was extremely touched that she would reach out to me and offer whatever comforting words she could. That's what has been so uplifting about this whole situation: So many people have shared their personal stories of hardship with me, with the purpose of encouraging me to believe that everything will work out in the end. By sharing her story's happy ending, this Mom allowed me to keep the faith and find comfort in knowing that I am not alone. A simple act of kindness, perhaps, but an extraordinary start to my Monday.

This afternoon, I resumed my exercise routine on the treadmill. It has been about 4 months since I last worked out (with a handful of yoga classes here and there). I am feeling physically well, less than a week following surgery. I want to feel strong and healthy. I want to feel physically able. It felt amazing to get my heart-rate up and to feel my muscles working hard. My body has been so resilient over the past year. It hasn't failed me yet, but rather has performed reliably in the face of great strain and manipulation. For that, I am truly thankful.

I'm Back, Baby!

I turned 33 yesterday. Aside from the chronological milestone, I celebrated just having survived the hardest two weeks of my life. I grieved, I got angry, I accepted the reality of my situation...and, in the end, I learned something about myself. I am a resilient person -- I've endured a lot of hardship over the past 8 years, and I've survived. My most recent challenge has taught me that being a mother means having to hold it together even when you feel like you're falling apart. Daniel is 2 and a half. He doesn't understand what it means to have a bad day. He has (blessedly) remained sheltered from life's cruelties. The last thing I want is for him to grow up with memories of a childhood punctuated by his Mom feeling sad and defeated all the time. It is my responsibility to pass on my resilience to him. To teach him that he can stand up to the forces that fight to keep him down. I want him to be proud of the person I am. To admire what I've lived through. If that means putting aside my own needs and wants in order to be more present in his life, I will do it. I am a mother, and that is what we do.

Mothers survive because their children need them. Their children need to feel safe, need to know that Mom will always be there. Mothers sacrifice so much of themselves because they have chosen to put another person's well-being before their own. These past couple of weeks, I've learned that not only am I capable of making this sacrifice, but I am happy to do it. I've raised an amazing little boy. Sometimes I don't give myself enough credit. One thing I'm sure of: He needs me to continue showing him what it means to be a happy, content person. Even on days when I struggle with this myself, I need to be strong for Daniel. That is my job.

A Case of the "Clingies"

Daniel has never really had an issue with separation anxiety. While he may be initially shy with strangers, he quickly warms up to them and thoroughly enjoys the attention that comes with being 2-years-old. Until recently, Daniel hadn't ever really cried when we'd left him (the beginning of camp and then school being the exception). Which is why this latest phase of his has gotten me all worked up.

He has grown, more and more over the past couple of weeks, increasingly attached to me. What started out as an isolated incident of insisting to be carried everywhere has become a full-blown case of the "clingies." Not only does Daniel want to sit next to me wherever we may be, he wants to sit on top of me, behind me, and even draped around me. He can often be heard pleading, "Mommy, come!" while I'm sitting just across the table from him. Peter even joked that Daniel would crawl back into the womb if he could (which was really only funny because Daniel so clearly takes after his Daddy in this regard). Perhaps this behavior is commonplace for other Mommies out there. But I've made it to 32 months without anything like this from Daniel in the past. So, why now? What has changed? And, most importantly, how do I handle it?

As a teacher, I would probably have handled the situation by using good old positive reinforcement. If a student was using negative behaviors to elicit my attention, I would make a point to notice that student's positive behaviors throughout the day and make a big deal of it. The idea is that the student would eventually realize that his or her positive behavior was a more efficient means to an end, thereby eliminating the "acting out" for attention's sake. When it's your own child doing the acting out, things are different. You feel compelled to differentiate between right and wrong, while simultaneously affirming your child's self-esteem and communicating your unconditional love. Sounds like an uphill battle, right?

I am curious (just a little bit) to see how far Daniel takes this whole hyper-attachment phase. Is he acting this way because we're on vacation from our regular routine? Will he regain his independence once we return home from Florida and he goes back to school 3 days a week? Or am I forced to face this challenge head-on, with nothing but my motherly instincts to protect me from this most formidable opponent?

Hard to Explain

This past week, I found myself in a public bathroom stall with Daniel. This was not the first time, of course, but the conversation had never before unfolded like this: I sat on the commode and Daniel stood by the door, intensely staring between my legs. First I thought he might be looking at my underwear ("Mommy no wear diaper?"). So I asked him what he was looking at, and he responded (without missing a beat), "Penis?"

I'll pause for a moment here and explain that we are very open in my house. Daniel has seen both parents naked, and he regularly accompanies us to the bathroom. He is also very much aware of his own genitalia (see "A Perplexing Bathtime"). Therefore, it wasn't his use of the word that had me a bit flummoxed. It was the impact that my answer would have on his current and future perception of sexuality and gender roles. Just kidding...I thought it was pretty damn funny!

In a sympathetic voice, I responded, "No, Daniel, Mommy doesn't have a penis. Only boys and daddies have penises. Mommies don't have penises." (Though many of us DO have some seriously brass balls.) He didn't seem concerned, although he didn't necessarily stop staring as I wiped and flushed the toilet. I'm sure the issue will come up again as he continues to learn more about the world around him. I expect that he will, at some point in the distant future, learn the word "vagina" (and giggle like an idiot every time he hears it, as all adolescent boys are programmed to do). I'm proud that he knows the correct anatomical term for his "private" area. There are no wee-wees in my house.

An Ever-Expanding Palate

Today we took Daniel to the King of Prussia mall. Aside from riding the escalator about a dozen times, he got to play a cool Lego computer game at the Apple store AND throw a bunch of pennies into the fountain. It was a big day. We wrapped up our mall outing with lunch at the Nordstrom cafe. I like taking Daniel there because it's pretty mellow (nothing like the insanity of a food court) and very kid-friendly. I ordered him mac and cheese off the kids' menu because I figured it would be a little bit better than your typical kids' menu mac and cheese. I even said out loud, "It will probably have real cheese!" Not that Daniel would know the difference.

While we waited for our meals to arrive, Daniel took turns sampling both Peter's Manhattan clam chowder and my tomato basil soup. He pretty much hijacked our bowls and hogged them in his corner of the table. My little moocher! Every time he slurped some soup off the spoon, he would nod vigorously and say, "Good!" We both tried in vain to get our soups back, with limited success. He did allow me to dip some bread into my soup and eat it that way, but he wasn't giving up that spoon. I'm almost glad he ate as much soup as he did because when his mac and cheese showed up, it was unmistakably of the Kraft variety. Shame on you, Nordstrom! He did eat some of it, but he definitely preferred the soup!

This evening, we went to a local Japanese restaurant where they prepare a nice little Bento box for kids. After stealing Peter's miso soup and downing the entire bowl (tofu and all -- Daddy was forced to order another bowl for himself), Daniel feasted on crabstick, sticky rice, and chicken- and-various-vegetables tempura. He even ate a piece of grapefruit for dessert! I was impressed. Not only was the quantity of food larger than usual, but the variety was astounding. It proves that even the most ardent pizza and french fries fan needs a little change now and then.