Mom in DCity

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Baby #3 Brings New Sense of Calm

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Oh hey, MomInDCity readers. It’s only been an ENTIRE YEAR since I’ve written. Not much has happened. Just, you know… got pregnant and had a “boring baby,” as Zana likes to call him. “Why do babies have to be so boring??” she has asked on multiple occasions.

I don’t know, dude. How do you think I feel? I’m the one who hangs out with him all day. She also refers to “the baby” in air quotes. I have no idea what that means.

"the baby" *in air quotes
“the baby” *in air quotes

Lorik (baby #3) was born June 17 and has been making our house a total snooze-fest ever since. Not really. That would mean people were actually snoozing, and we all know that isn’t happening. Lorik has turned our lives upside down. The house is a (even more of a) disaster, there’s always someone screaming and crying—and I haven’t even gotten to the kids. They’re doing great.

Between ballet, gymnastics, running club and soccer… and more soccer… I got bored, so here I am back to blogging. The other day at ballet, a mom friend of mine said “Where’s the baby?! I’ve never seen you without him!” And for a split second, I didn’t know the answer. Had I become one of those “whoops I left the car seat on top of the car moms?” Oh wait, BeeBop (my mom) is in town. Whew.

And it’s because of that, that I currently have two free hands and am able to type. I mean, my foot is still on the bouncy seat, but it’s almost like I’m taking a break!

The magic of the bouncy chair
The magic of the bouncy chair

Where’s BeeBop, you ask? Making me look good to the PTA moms by baking up a storm for the bake sale.

It’s true, I’m superwoman.

So let’s see if this boring baby lets me write a little more often. Until then… please leave me your juggling act tips in the comment section.

Be Kind to Traveling Families… Or Else

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Have you ever been comfortably sitting on a plane, minding your own business when someone asks you to move? Did you do it?

If you did, you probably felt good. Like you’d just done that person and/or their family a favor. If you didn’t, well… the rest of this post is for you.

As my family and I dragged our way to the back of the plane last night, we looked around hopefully. The 3-hour delay had left us cranky and tired. The girls pulled their princess suitcases and fought over ratty haired dolls while Dave and I tried not-so-subtly to make eye contact with potential seat-trading strangers. Our assigned seats were all over the plane, and Zana was already crying at the thought of not sitting with one of us.

People just stared. Most people, anyway. One man did jump up and offer to move saying, “I remember those days!” He even took a middle seat to help us out(thank you, thank you!).

But not everyone was eager to help, including one guy who had the pleasure of sitting next to Zana.

Good luck sitting next to this kid
Why wouldn’t you be nice to this face?

He learned a hard lesson. Since I don’t think anyone else should have to learn this the hard way, I’m going to lay it out for you.

If you’re not nice to traveling families…

1. You might get coughed on. (a lot)

2. You might get kicked. (hard)

3. You might be forced to listen to a very loud rendition of “Let it Go.” (on repeat)

4. You might get sprayed with vomit.

5. You might then be forced to eat your Lunchable while smelling that vomit.

6. You might be referred to as a “magar” (that’s donkey in Albanian) while you’re talked about right in front of your face.

Or if you’re the lucky guy sitting next to Zana during the flight because you wouldn’t change seats… you might just get the grand prize of all of the above!

So what have we learned?

When a family asks you to move so they can sit together, just do it.

And remember… you’re not doing them a favor. You’re doing yourself one.

Slow Down Second Kid! Mama’s Not Ready

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Why does the second child have to grow up so much faster than the first?

Zana had her ballet showcase today and wore the same costume Lira wore in her recital last year. How does Lira’s costume, from when she was 6, fit Zana, who’s 4?  She’s growing every day but some days, like today, I notice. Really notice.

Where's my baby?
Where’s my baby?

Zana was the only one dressed in costume at today’s showcase: hair in a bun “because I’m a ballerina,” smiling from ear to ear, so proud.  She couldn’t have pointed those toes any better if she were wearing actual pointe slippers.

Taking this showcase seriously
Taking this showcase seriously

Our lives are moving so fast that we can’t keep track of what’s on the calendar from one day to the next. If we see a block of time that’s free we wonder if the calendar is broken.  I want to… need to… stop and breathe. Take it all in. Let my 4-year-old’s sweet breath fill my lungs and her sweet smile fill my soul.

Today I did.

Today I savored every hug.

Today I listened… really listened when she told me about her day. She giggled about the boy at school who kissed another girl who “wasn’t even in her family!” She let me know that while some girls only wear dresses, she also really likes wearing shorts. She asked me what color I’d be if I weren’t the color I am, and let me know that she’d probably be brown.

She told me she loved me, without me saying it first.

I’m sure it was no coincidence that today was one of her best behavior days on record. I may not always have time to blog (y’all still love me, right?), or to write thank you notes (sorry, Mom), or cook dinner (takeout works!), but I will… I must… make time for what matters.

I’m Bossy But, Not the Boss Like Beyoncé

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“Get off of me with those Nutella hands!”

“It’s snowing, you can’t wear a swimsuit!”

“If you don’t sit both of your butt cheeks on that chair, no dessert!”

I have heard myself saying all of the above this weekend. Meanwhile, every time I’m on Twitter, Instagram or any of my other favorite time-wasting apps I’m bombarded with messages like this one…

Look at the words, not her perfect face.
Look at the words, not her perfect face.

Besides my bossy self, I live with two bossy girls. There, I said it. But it’s true! They march around the house barking orders at each other, at Dave, and at me. And if anyone else is near, they’ll boss them around too. Lira got bossy with all of us, including her Nana, the other day and then actually growled at her. At her own Nana!

#3 is what she thinks should be her consequence
#3 is what she thinks should be her consequence

If she doesn’t “get it together” like the note says, we’re going to have ourselves a regular Anna Wintour around here—only this little devil will be wearing Gymboree instead of Prada.

According to the Ban Bossy website, “When a little boy asserts himself, he’s called a “leader.” Yet when a little girl does the same, she risks being branded bossy.”

Is that true? Am I the only one who also uses the word “bossy” to describe those of the opposite sex? I’m an equal opportunity bossy-caller. In fact, I call my husband that all the time.

Me: Why are you so bossy?
Him: Because I’m the boss.
Me: *eye roll*
The Girls: No you’re not the boss, Daddy!

Then, he asks them who the boss is, and they say ‘both of you.’

I wish I could get on board with Beyoncé (and Michelle Obama and Sheryl Sandberg) with this one. She usually steers me in the right direction…

She taught me …

…that not everyone would be ready for this jelly

… that if he liked it then he should have put a ring on it.

… and that if I ever need to kick anyone out I should put everything they own in the box to the left.

So I want to #BanBossy for Bey… but no.

What am I supposed to say when people are being bossy?

“Way to be a leader!”??

Maybe it’s because I’m fortunate to have some very outspoken girls. Or maybe I just don’t like being told what to do. But either way, I’m not doing it.

So to quote one of my favorite tweets on the issue…

“Technically, telling anyone to ban a word is bossy.”