One day shortly after I learned that I was pregnant with Peanut, I was driving down a Tennessee highway behind a horse trailer, and I realized that I would probably be there when this child I was carrying would learn what a horse was. A simple thought, yet it was a huge moment for me. Obviously, I have seen Peanut discover many other things beyond horses, and it has been a treat. Too often in my parenthooding (new word), I have focused on what I am teaching her and what lessons she is learning. I try to strike up conversations in the car about choosing friends, being kind, sharing with other less fortunate, etc. Let's face it. I have a wealth of vast wisdom that she needs to glean from me every available second, right? Hmmm.
This weekend, we went antiquing. Peanut loves it. If there was money to be made as an obscure doll-finder, she'd be our million dollar kid. I love that about her. I stood in this giant antique hall and heard myself say for the 50th time, "Come on. We are moving along now. You have to stay with us." Yada, yada, yada. I hate those phrases coming out of my mouth so much. So I stopped. And I let her teach me. She showed me the beauty of slowing down so you don't miss something that could be quite special. Peanut Life Lesson #1. She taught me that just because something was originally made to be some sort of thing-a-ma-jig for a car battery, doesn't mean it can't be a perfect pretend thermometer for a sick dolly. Many things have many uses if we open our minds and play. Peanut Life Lesson #2. She demonstrated the wonder of discovery. Seeing giant Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls were a big thing and merited an in depth conversation with them, no matter who might be watching or listening. No need to filter oneself or be self-conscious. Peanut Life Lesson #3. On the way home she was singing along to a Broadway Kids album like she was making her debut on the Great White Way. Whatever you love to do, do it with complete abandon. Peanut Life Lesson #4. So I will be paying more attention to this adorable little teacher because she has a lot to teach me and I have a lot to learn. Peanut Life Lesson #5.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Rants and Raves
I can't hold this in. Something really bothered me today and I am going to share. Here's the rant: I was shopping with Peanut today at Kohl's, a nice all-American kind of store. Nothing cutting edge about Kohl's, really. I like it more now that Vera Wang is on board, but they still are not the go to place for me if I want to be hip or cool looking. Imagine my shock today when looking for new pj's in the girls section size 4-6x to find an entire RACK (pun intended) of bras for girls ... size 4-6x. Speechless, for a second, then confusion sets in. Who in the world is buying a bra for a girl this age/size? Somebody must be or I am sure Candie's wouldn't be making them. FYI, the website says for girls size 7-16. The store had a sign on the rack "4-6x". Now I am a mom that probably painted my daughter's nails earlier than some and even lets her wear lip gloss, when she wants "make-up". But make up and nails are fun!!! Bras are uncomfortable, restrictive and honestly not that necessary if you are an A cup and/or haven't graduated from kindergarten yet. If I could, I would go without one all the time, but a little weight gain and 13 months of breast feeding will no longer allow that. In my opinion, the only time a bra is fun is when someone else is taking it off of you. Is there anyone out there who can explain this to me? (The pre-k bra thing. I've got the fun thing about bras covered.) I was wondering if Kohl's also provides a salesperson dressed like a Bratz doll to give Peanut a proper bra fitting. Should I expect to find Dora print thongs next?
Oh look, something positive! A rave: I am a new fan of cream eyeshadow. Maybelline has a great color trio that I love. Looks great with my hazel eyes. Takes maybe 5 seconds to put on. Fingers do fine by me. Slap on some eyeliner, usually powder with help of a brush(10 seconds, or 2 minutes if I am digging for said brush), and mascara (20 seconds, 30 if I curl them). In less than a minute, I look like a million bucks. Well, at least 50 bucks!
Rave: Hulu and all other networks and sites that let me watch my fave TV shows online. Our TV is busted and it happened at the worst time. I was sick, just took Peanut to school and came home to make my comfy palette on the couch and watch/sleep to trashy TV for the better part of the day.
Another rant:
Dear big name peanut butter makers,
If you are going to jump into the all natural peanut butter arena, don't add sugar to it and call it natural. Last time I checked, natural means to come from nature. Peanuts in natural form don't have sugar in them. Just stick to the partially hydrogenated crap you make, if you aren't gonna do it right. And people, you must read your labels if you really want to make informed healthy choices.
Rave: Hulu and all other networks and sites that let me watch my fave TV shows online. Our TV is busted and it happened at the worst time. I was sick, just took Peanut to school and came home to make my comfy palette on the couch and watch/sleep to trashy TV for the better part of the day. This is what I saw. Giant gasp!!!!!!!
That was 4 weeks ago. Now, we bought this TV at least 10 years ago at "Nobody Beats The Wiz". It was the floor sample. The remote had been hot glued to the side of it. I was not stunned that the TV gave out on us. I didn't get to see any paternity tests or hear a redneck crowd yell, "Jerry! Jerry!" that day. However, thanks to Hulu and many other network websites, I can still watch my shows. So, we have put off replacing the outdated, oversized television until we find a great deal on a flat screen. Plus with hulu you get to see the funnier clips of SNL without enduring the slow, not funny sketches. I am all caught up on The Good Wife, Parenthood, Brothers and Sisters, Grey's Anatomy, The Voice and even my mindless, guilty pleasure since high school, The Young and the Restless. Cue music to "Nadia's Theme".
Friday, May 6, 2011
Messages
Lately, I have been thinking about messages. What kind of messages do I listen to? What kind of messages do I send? What kind of messages does my daughter hear? Our world?
A few months ago, I read a book called "Cinderella Ate My Daughter". This really got me to thinking about messages we are sending young girls. I have a bittersweet relationship with all things princess and Barbie. I mean, I played with Barbies for hours on end as a little girl. I had the airplane that folded up kind of like a suitcase. Loved it! I had the big Barbie head that you could do her hair. I honestly believe this was the beginning of my obsession with hair. My little Peanut has loved Disney Princesses since her first viewing of "Cinderella". Harmless, right? I think she was 2. She cried when it was over, not understanding that we could watch it again. Oh, how sweet, I thought. This reconnects me to my chidhood. I was in "Beauty and the Beast" and she loves Belle. Yada, yada, yada. However, the flip side of this is am I teaching my daughter that the prince is the only one who can save us? Fulfillment can only be found in romantic love? Should girls aspire to be the image of Barbie to feel confident? Peggy Orentstein raises these questions plus many others about the way too early sexualization of little girls and what it means to be feminine. I don't always agree with her. I believe there should be a balance and this book raised my awareness about the messages I let Peanut hear.
Mothering surely brings responsibility to what messages I personally send to Peanut. She watches every move I make and is like a sponge. No worries, I started the "therapy fund" the day after she was born. The other day she brought me an ad from a "Southern Living" mag and asked so sweetly, "Mom, why don't you ever look like that?". The add was for a department store. The add was for jewelry and the model was shot from her bare shoulders up. Her hair was pulled back in some sort of simple up-do. She was wearing simple make-up with a brighter shade of lipstick. Her neck was draped with bold and bright necklaces. My response, after a little chuckle, was, "Wow, she looks nice, right?". Hmmmmm. What was Peanut getting at? Does she think I need to accessorize more? I probably do. More lipstick? It's possible. Or is it that this woman looks, confident, at ease with herself and ready to take on the world? I could surely stand to have more of that in my life. It was a funny moment when Peanut asked this perfectly innocent question of me. But I really began to think about what she is learning from me.
I won't get all political here, but I indeed thought of the messages sent as the world digested the news of the death of an evil man last week. I can't even bring myself to mention his name in this blog. I just kept asking myself what kind of citizen of the human race am I and what messages do I proclaim to the world?
Finally, I wonder what messages I send to myself. Yesterday, I took the extra few minutes to make myself a yummy spinach salad with strawberries, pecans, avocado and balsamic vinaigrette. A simple task. But usually, I throw whatever leftovers we might have in my bag and run for the door, exclaiming, "Come on! We are late!". As I was taking the timing to chop the fruit, I asked myself why I don't do this more often. What am I telling myself when I don't take the time to make a healthy and enjoyable meal for myself? Honestly, our leftovers are pretty healthy. Or paint my toes? Or linger in bed a little longer to read a book? The point is, why don't I take the time to nurture myself? These are messages I not only sending to myself, but Peanut and Husband as well. To quote Dr Phil, " You give people permission for how they can treat you." Let's all do a collective rolling of the eyes that I am quoting him. However, I do believe it and I believe it begins with how they see us treat ourselves.
A few months ago, I read a book called "Cinderella Ate My Daughter". This really got me to thinking about messages we are sending young girls. I have a bittersweet relationship with all things princess and Barbie. I mean, I played with Barbies for hours on end as a little girl. I had the airplane that folded up kind of like a suitcase. Loved it! I had the big Barbie head that you could do her hair. I honestly believe this was the beginning of my obsession with hair. My little Peanut has loved Disney Princesses since her first viewing of "Cinderella". Harmless, right? I think she was 2. She cried when it was over, not understanding that we could watch it again. Oh, how sweet, I thought. This reconnects me to my chidhood. I was in "Beauty and the Beast" and she loves Belle. Yada, yada, yada. However, the flip side of this is am I teaching my daughter that the prince is the only one who can save us? Fulfillment can only be found in romantic love? Should girls aspire to be the image of Barbie to feel confident? Peggy Orentstein raises these questions plus many others about the way too early sexualization of little girls and what it means to be feminine. I don't always agree with her. I believe there should be a balance and this book raised my awareness about the messages I let Peanut hear.
Mothering surely brings responsibility to what messages I personally send to Peanut. She watches every move I make and is like a sponge. No worries, I started the "therapy fund" the day after she was born. The other day she brought me an ad from a "Southern Living" mag and asked so sweetly, "Mom, why don't you ever look like that?". The add was for a department store. The add was for jewelry and the model was shot from her bare shoulders up. Her hair was pulled back in some sort of simple up-do. She was wearing simple make-up with a brighter shade of lipstick. Her neck was draped with bold and bright necklaces. My response, after a little chuckle, was, "Wow, she looks nice, right?". Hmmmmm. What was Peanut getting at? Does she think I need to accessorize more? I probably do. More lipstick? It's possible. Or is it that this woman looks, confident, at ease with herself and ready to take on the world? I could surely stand to have more of that in my life. It was a funny moment when Peanut asked this perfectly innocent question of me. But I really began to think about what she is learning from me.
I won't get all political here, but I indeed thought of the messages sent as the world digested the news of the death of an evil man last week. I can't even bring myself to mention his name in this blog. I just kept asking myself what kind of citizen of the human race am I and what messages do I proclaim to the world?
Finally, I wonder what messages I send to myself. Yesterday, I took the extra few minutes to make myself a yummy spinach salad with strawberries, pecans, avocado and balsamic vinaigrette. A simple task. But usually, I throw whatever leftovers we might have in my bag and run for the door, exclaiming, "Come on! We are late!". As I was taking the timing to chop the fruit, I asked myself why I don't do this more often. What am I telling myself when I don't take the time to make a healthy and enjoyable meal for myself? Honestly, our leftovers are pretty healthy. Or paint my toes? Or linger in bed a little longer to read a book? The point is, why don't I take the time to nurture myself? These are messages I not only sending to myself, but Peanut and Husband as well. To quote Dr Phil, " You give people permission for how they can treat you." Let's all do a collective rolling of the eyes that I am quoting him. However, I do believe it and I believe it begins with how they see us treat ourselves.
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