Life with Kids – Angie Mizzell

When you know better, you do better. Part two

February 27, 2012 By Angie 6 Comments

This week, I’ll ease back into reality and the fantabulous world of kiddie car pool. I’ve taken pretty good care of myself since Cate was born; I’ve accepted help from family and friends, taken a few daytime naps and broken a million “rules” you find in all those parenting books.

I’m ready. But I’m sure I’ll have my moments and they will find their way to the blog.

In the meantime, I’ll share an essay I wrote for Hybrid Her back in 2009, shortly after Blake was born. While I like to don my tiara on special occasions, rest assured, I’m not wearing it this week.

Not So Supermom

About a month before I gave birth to my second child, I took an online quiz. Which Superhero was I? I was dying to know. On Facebook, I had adopted a strict “no quiz” policy. But since I’d found the Superhero quiz on a friend’s blog, the rule didn’t count.

I answered a series of questions and the results came back as I expected. I was, in fact, Wonder Woman. I lacked Lynda Carter’s rock-hard body, tiara and teeny blue shorts covered in stars. But I remembered the summer of 1980, when I ran around barefoot sporting a pair of Wonder Woman Underoos. I took this as proof the test was highly credible.

Shortly after my son was born, my superpowers—fueled by adrenaline, 800 milligrams of ibuprofen and a daily dose of Starbucks—were intact. I felt ready to take on the challenge of mothering two children. I put on my cape, muscled through the sleep deprivation and attempted to resume life as normal. I reasoned that getting out of the house would be good for my three-year-old, and for me. So with my newborn in tow, we went to play dates, the museum, an indoor playground and the pool. We had lunch with friends and entertained visitors.

So maybe I overdid it, just a bit. Eventually, the Lasso of Truth reeled me in.

When my throat began to hurt, I ignored the symptoms. I kept going when I lost my voice. But when I started to look a little less like Wonder Woman and more like the corpse of Lynda Carter, I went to the doctor. The doctor concluded I had a viral infection and said I needed more rest. What? No caffeine patch? No miracle drug to instantly zap me back to health? I resisted the urge to laugh/cry in her face and agreed that she was probably right.

But how, I wondered, is it possible to give my children what they need? Will I ever learn how to love them and care for them and simultaneously take care of myself? When will I find time to work, date my husband, sleep and exercise? I had just gotten my groove back after having my first child. Was it possible to lose it that quickly?

I pondered these questions as I spent a quiet week at home with my kids. I traded my tiara for yoga pants and nursing tanks, and my three-year-old entertained himself with his cars and trains. I got better acquainted with the daily rhythms of my newborn. I even experienced a rare moment when the heavens opened up and both children napped at the same time.

So, while I may resemble Wonder Woman, I have resolved that my fantastic superpowers have limits. Maybe I’m doing my children more good by revealing my greatness, as well as my weakness, rather than perpetuating the fantasy that I can do it all. Because I can’t. At least not all at once.

And that is okay.

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Filed Under: Balancing Act, Life with Kids

When you know better, you do better. Part one

February 24, 2012 By Angie 9 Comments

Cate is two weeks old day.

Two weeks ago, I went to the doctor for my scheduled appointment. We’d been watching my blood pressure and keeping an eye on Cate. I saw the look on my doctor’s face and knew what she was going to say.

“It’s time to have a baby.” We were fine, but I had carried Cate long enough.

There was a moment in the hospital room when my husband had left to pick up Dillon and Blake from school, and I was alone. I stopped texting and turned off the TV. I listened to the thump thump thump of Cate’s heartbeat on the monitor. I breathed it all in and took a picture in my mind.

About a week before Cate was born, I was listening to a conversation with Jane Fonda and Elizabeth Lesser on Oprah radio. (Think what you want. I love me some Oprah radio.) Fonda was talking about how she had gotten into blogging, and Lesser asked what Fonda thought about it: Does blogging take you from the moment? Does it keep you from experiencing what’s right in front of you? Fonda said (paraphrasing here) that she felt like she was punctuating the moment. Underlining the moment with ink.

So when people ask me how I’m managing to blog during this time, that’s what I think about.

This morning, I was going to write about something completely different, but the title was same. As soon as I sat down at my laptop, Cate woke up. I fed her and balanced the computer on the edge of the Boppy. I looked down and her eyes were wide open. So I stopped typing. Then Blake called from upstairs, “Daddy! Help!” Nothing was wrong. He always cries for help when he wants us to come get him. When Blake had been “saved” he cuddled up beside Cate and me. I moved the laptop out of the way. Then Dillon woke up and tried to squeeze his way onto the couch.

I watched the scene unfold. I took another picture in my mind. A couple of minutes later, Cate was asleep. The boys lost interest and moved on to toys and cartoons.

Now, I’m simply punctuating the moment. Underlining the moment with ink. Funny how the title still fits.

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Filed Under: Balancing Act, Life with Kids

It’s Cate’s world…

February 13, 2012 By Angie 22 Comments

We’re just living in it!

Baby Cate was born Friday night! So happy to share her with you.

Filed Under: Feels Like Home, Life with Kids

I’m sexy and I’m um… what?

February 10, 2012 By Angie 23 Comments

This week, Jan wrote a funny post about how her daughter called her out for letting her watch the Superbowl halftime show, saying “Little kids should not be watching this!” I hope Jan’s daughter didn’t go to school the next day and write about how she’s being corrupted by pop culture, like my child did. Check out this literary jewel:

What’s worse, do you think? That my son louded me out to his teacher? That he saw the naked M & M going “wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle” or that he confused the lyrics of “Sexy and I Know It” with LMFAO’s parody of the song?

Thank goodness he doesn’t know what LMFAO means. At least I don’t think he knows.

I can always count on Abby to make me feel better. Check out this beautiful butterfly drawn by her son. Look closely.

photo courtesy of abbyofftherecord.com

Abby suggested I order a signed copy and hang it in Cate’s nursery. I’m surrounded by comedians.

Have a great weekend!

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Filed Under: Life with Kids

Remember to say cheese and watch out for land mines

February 3, 2012 By Angie 10 Comments

Here’s the story behind this photo: It was taken in my grandmother’s backyard on Thanksgiving Day, by Dana Leopard of Southern Pearls Photography. Dana dates my cousin, who was standing behind her, making ridiculous and hilarious faces so Blake wouldn’t flee the scene. Older brother Dillon is laughing because a) my cousin is a nut or b) we were trying to NOT to sit on dog poop and when you’re five, dog poop is hysterical.

Moments after Dana snapped this photo, I took her brand new Ford Flex for a test drive and backed it into a mailbox. She was super cool (of course we fixed the damage) but her comment afterward was priceless: “It has a backup sensor, but I guess you didn’t hear that.”

The only thing I heard was smack! Years ago, when I was pregnant with Dillon, I side-swiped my friend’s Lexus trying to parallel park before a Bunco game. You think I would have learned to stay away from cars that aren’t mine when I’m pregnant. But nope.

This photo also makes an appearance in this month’s issue of Lowcountry Parent, in my column about things I’ll never learn about raising children. Robin O’Bryant, author of Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Mom Tell Themselves helped me compile the list. (Thanks, girl!)

I don’t write about my terrible pregnant driving in the Lowcountry Parent column, but I do share how the boys reacted last summer when we told them our BIG SURPRISE was not a dog, but actually a new baby. (See above point about dog poop).

I hope you’ll let the folks at Lowcountry Parent know that you think I’m swell (or swelling. At this point in the pregnancy both are true) and pop on over. Just one click and boom, you’re there!

Have a great weekend everyone!

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Filed Under: Life with Kids

You can handle the truth

January 20, 2012 By Angie 16 Comments

My childhood friends threw me a baby shower recently and the guests offered advice for handling three kids. The words of wisdom included:

Lower your expectations. And, Remember, it’s kind of like AA. Take it one day at a time. And, Call your husband at the end of the day. Tell him you’re cracking open a beer and if he’s not home in thirty minutes, you’re cracking open another one. (I suppose that’s the opposite of AA.)

If my writer mom friend Abigail Green had been there (she lives in Maryland… I know she loves me but not that much) she’d have fit right in. In her new e-book, Mama Insider: Laughing (And Sometimes Crying) All the Way Through Pregnancy, Birth, and the First 3 Months, Abby tells it like it is.

“I really thought I was prepared to have my first baby,” Abby says. “I’d read the books and blogs, seen the movies and reality shows. In my 15+ years as a journalist, I’d even written articles on pregnancy symptoms, babymoons, and co-sleeping. And heaven knows I’d been to enough baby showers. Yet I was still surprised by so much of what I experienced during pregnancy, birth, and my first 3 months as a new mom.”

Now, a warning. If you’re pregnant for the first time and read about Abby’s birth story, it may make you question what you’ve gotten yourself into. But trust me when I say she’s doing you a favor. Sometimes (a lot of the time) the best laid birth plans don’t go according to plan. And you need something real to balance out the crap you see in baby magazines designed to make you buy stuff. Take this for example:

I got this the other day. I know enough about childbirth to know that getting in and out of the bed to nurse a baby in the middle of the night can be downright painful. It takes my body weeks to recover and my bed is so high off the ground it requires a mini-trampoline to hoist myself onto the mattress. I bought this snuggle nest so I could let the baby sleep next to me without worrying that I’ll roll over and crush her.

But take a look at the models on the box. Come on. Nobody looks like that when they have a newborn.

For moms in the trenches, Abby’s e-book will validate you and make you laugh. If you read it after you’ve “been there, done that” it will still validate you and make you laugh.

I can relate to Abby’s story about not knowing (with her first child) that she was pregnant. And she’s smart, people. Phi Beta Kappa from Vassar smart. And how she charted her newborn’s sleep patterns. I spent a ridiculous amount of time filling in a color wheel documenting the times my first born ate, slept and took care of business.

And then there was the time Abby’s husband unplugged a freezer full of breast milk. What!? I remember the time my husband poured one ounce of breast milk down the drain. I lost my mind. “That’s my freedom!” I shouted. “That’s my freedom and you just poured it down the drain!” Now I’m thinking I was too hard on him. If he had unplugged a freezer full of the liquid gold, I’d have gone after him with a kitchen knife.

The book is filled with Abby’s signature honesty and humor that reminds me it’s okay to give myself a time out, it’s okay to NOT love every second of parenting and that I’m an awesome mom. In this generation of super-parenting, moms need to hear that even on the worst days, they’re doing a good job. Guilt is overrated. Laughter, however, is not.

Mama Insider by Abigail Green is 50 pages (perfect because chances are, your brain is fried) and can be purchased for $4.99. Click here to get the e-reader version. If you don’t have an e-reader, you can buy the PDF version directly from Abby’s site. Go Abby! Friend to friend, writer to writer, and mom to mom, I’m so proud and happy for you.

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Filed Under: Life with Kids

Meet Baby Cute

January 18, 2012 By Angie 36 Comments

Did you think I had the baby already? I’m good, but I’m not that good. I won’t take an official blogging break when she arrives, but the whole act of labor and delivery might throw off my posting schedule just a wee bit. In the meantime, there’s someone else I’d like you to meet.

THIS is Baby Cute:

Blake pulled her out of a bin at Walmart weeks before Christmas and I couldn’t ignore his squeals of joy. Instead of controlling my child, I snapped photos instead:

Then my people called Santa’s people and explained that we needed Baby Cute to arrive on Christmas morning, and we needed a pink stroller to go with it.

Some think this is great—that I, I mean, Santa, got my son a baby doll for Christmas. Others think it’s strange. Still others have suggested it may be difficult to pass the doll over to his sister after she’s born. I just smile and say, “The doll is not for the baby. It’s Blake’s.” In fact, he’s the one who came up with the name Baby Cute. The Christmas before that, we got him a kitchen because I noticed he played with the one at the gym daycare. (Random side note: if you stand outside Big Lots before it opens to take advantage of a $10 kid kitchen, it may or may not be a piece of junk).

Yes, the boy who rocks his Paper Jamz guitar and tries to vaporize me with invisible lasers shooting from his fingers also plays with kitchens and dolls. Unlike what some people suggest, this is not because he has a baby sister on the way. At preschool, Blake goes straight to the babies. He sings to his teddy bears and gives them juice. The other day I overheard him consoling Baby Cute.

“Baby Cute sad. She cry,” Blake said.

I have no idea how he’ll feel about the real, live baby who’s about to come into our home. We’ve told him about Cate, but I think he has her confused with Baby Cute. Here’s what I do know: I have a husband who will rock a baby to sleep, change a diaper, clean the house and cook dinner. I couldn’t imagine telling Blake he couldn’t have a doll or a kitchen because it’s a girl toy.

Cate’s room is almost ready. It’s spewing pink. But I don’t have any preconceived ideas about her personality or the types of things that will interest her. That’s part of the fun. It’s part of the learning.

Let’s talk: gender roles and stereotypes. Go.

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Filed Under: Life with Kids

It’s game on, people

January 13, 2012 By Angie 29 Comments

2006

Even though many of my posts are about my life with kids, I don’t necessarily consider myself a mommy blogger. Yes, I’m a mom. And yes, I blog. So what’s the difference? I think the big difference is the readers. The comments on Wednesday’s post show how we’re all in different stages of life. We come to this corner of the internet from different backgrounds and viewpoints.

I try to find the universal thread in my stories. I ask myself, What makes this adventure in the life of Angie more about the human experience and not solely the “mom in the trenches” experience? Some days I don’t mention my kids or my role as mom at all. During those times, I have the little people tied to the coffee table.

But let’s face it. I’m about to have a third child. Not, like, tomorrow. But soon. I was thinking about it, and there’s no way I can pretend that’s not happening here on the blog. Much of my focus is shifting towards prepping for the new little person who’s moving in. To my house. Not for an extended visit. To stay. So perhaps that does make me a mommy blogger. It’s just a label. It doesn’t matter.

2009

All of this to say I hope you’ll embrace this part of the journey with me. It will be interesting (in light of Wednesday’s post) to see how it goes. The newborn days with Dillon were particularly difficult for me. I had no idea how my overwhelming love for this angel of a baby would be eclipsed by raging hormones, sleep deprivation and the unsettling realization that so many things are out of my control. With Blake, I had a (somewhat) easier time, and I’m sure some of it had to do with perspective. I did some things differently. But sometimes it was deja vu, and I had to remind myself: I may be tired and depleted today, but I won’t be tired and depleted and um, unshowered for the rest of my life.

Before I got pregnant with our baby girl on the way, I told my husband, “I’m not under any false impressions that having another is going to be easy. I can’t promise I won’t have less-than-shining moments. I still have no idea how to balance raising children with my personal and professional aspirations. But I don’t care. I know what I’m getting into.”

Wednesday, Bella wrote about her experience as a grandparent:

We have more patience than when we were younger, and we have less stress and deadlines and other priorities. Our grandchildren are the only thing in the universe when we’re with them. It’s different than being a parent with all the responsibilities.

She’s right. It is different. We don’t get do-overs in life. Instead, we get seasons. With each season comes an opportunity to learn and grow and live life more fully than we did the day before. In 2009, before Blake was born, I wrote,

Some nights I put my head on the pillow and tell myself, “I got it right today.” But there are other nights I pray for a chance to love my son a little better tomorrow. This realization makes me think of my own mother, and her mother, and all the mothers who came before them. And suddenly, I’m filled with forgiveness. I’m overwhelmed with understanding. And love.

Maya Angelou has said, “You did what you knew how to do, and when you knew better, you did better.” And those words remind to forgive myself.

So perhaps I can tie these thoughts into a pretty little bow by saying this: This is what I love about my blog and the readers who help make it what it is. Together, we shine new perspectives on the business of living life. And if you want to come visit, babysit, clean my bathrooms, take the the overnight shift… sign up in the comments section below. (Kidding).

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Filed Under: Life with Kids, Popular Posts

My theory on why people say “enjoy every moment”

January 11, 2012 By Angie 33 Comments

Last summer, hugging a tree in our yard that's almost dead

Blake and I were walking out of the gym the other day and he was taking his sweet time. He wanted to walk down the ramp instead of stepping off the curb. He wanted to use the speed bump as a balance beam. He turned the act of searching for our car into a game.

“Where’s our new car?” he asked, saying neeewww car! like the announcer on “The Price is Right”. “Is this it?”

“No, it’s that one.”

“That one?”

“No, that one.”

When we got to the car, he stuck his finger into the tailpipe of the sports car next to us. “What are these hoses?”

“Smoke comes out of those,” I said, grabbing his chubby hand which was now covered with grease. I had been consciously not rushing. I was okay with all the lingering, but I had reached my threshold and picked him up and put him in his car seat.

“Whheeeee!” he said.

In the midst of this grand adventure of walking through a strip mall parking lot, I felt a quick pang of sadness. I missed Dillon. Turn the clock back 3 1/2 years—before my almost 6-year-old had a little brother and a baby sister on the way and started kindergarten—and you would have found us doing the same thing.

And I thought, wow, it goes by so fast.

As I drove away, I flipped through the Rolodex of memories and wondered if I was as patient with Dillon as I had been with Blake just a few seconds ago. I reasoned that yes, on some days I was. And on others, I wasn’t. Much like life today. Sometimes I’m all fa la la la la and others days I’m like hurry up people, let’s get a falalalala move on.

Last weekend Blake was standing in the kitchen in nothing but a diaper and an Iron Man helmet. My mother-in-law told my husband to take a picture and my husband said, “We could take pictures of that kid all day.” I think people tell moms with young children to enjoy every moment because maybe there’s just not an easy way to describe how it feels when the time has passed. They want us to recognize how fleeting it all is, because when we’re in the moment (as in trying to get to the car in the gym parking lot) it feels like it’s taking forever. They’re looking back with perspective.

Memories are selective. When people tell me to enjoy the time of life that I’m in, I usually smile and say something like, “Oh, I know.” Because I do know what they’re really trying to say. It’s just extremely difficult to articulate. There are so many periods of my life that I would do again (and many times I wouldn’t dare repeat). If I knew it wouldn’t alter the course of the universe or change where I am today, I’d go back to college again, I’d marry Shawn again, I’d have my kids again. I’m not saying I enjoyed every single moment. I’m just saying I’d do it again.

What would you do again?

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