Mom in DCity

My Holiday Card is Bigger than Yours Na-na-na-na-na

December 3, 2015 by momindcity 11 Comments

Some of you will receive your annual holiday card from the Pinchottis soon. The extras arrived at our house yesterday and I was shocked and impressed with myself. This is no ordinary holiday card. This is bigger and better than any you’ve seen from us before. And when I say bigger, I mean BIGGER.

Before you start talking about me behind my back, consider this: there are many reasons why one’s card would be this big. You never know what that person is going through or how much sleep they had before purchasing.

Let me help you by presenting these reasons why my holiday card might be bigger than yours:

Shutterfly increases your card size based on how cute your family photo is.
We are trying our hardest to keep up with the Kardashians.
I’m from Texas.
I really wanted to make sure you got a good look at the pores on my nose.
I’ve been to your house and you really need some new wall art.
You said you miss me and I want you to feel like I’m always with you.
Go big or go home.
I thought, when you add a family member, you add 10 inches to your card size.

Leave it up to Shutterfly to make their standard card a 6×8. I knew 30 was the new 20 but I didn’t realize “life-sized” was the new “standard.” I did wonder why each one cost $24.75. Don’t say I never bought you anything. If you haven’t received your card yet, it may be because it didn’t fit in your mailbox. You should really buy a bigger one because this is only the beginning. Just wait until next year when the Pinchotti doll collection comes out.

And while I’m over here acting like Kanye, I’m going to take this opportunity to share a few more of our family photos taken by the fabulous Gabrielle Zoey:

Soccer Team Loss, Soccer Hair Win

November 7, 2015 by momindcity 5 Comments

Today was the last soccer game of the season for the yellow team aka the Golden Hawks. The Yellow Lemonades, who lost every single game last season, were back with a new attitude and a new name—so much promise! Week after week, we watched the Hawks get trampled. By the end of the season, they lost six games and tied one. However, we weren’t just losing on the field, we were also losing the soccer mom game. When the rival Orange Crush came to the field in matching logoed sweatshirts, we knew something had to change.

One of my favorite mom friends texted me…. “oh it’s on.”

“Yeah! It’s SO on!” I responded, not even knowing what we were talking about.

The next text was a link to some crazy hair bows I hadn’t seen since the 90s. All yellow and black, adorned with soccer balls.

“You down?” She asked. (Yes, we always use cool-mom lingo when we text).

Before I knew it she was at the craft store sending me pictures of different ribbon options. I tried to play it cool, swiftly responding about which ribbons would go best together.

I have strong, intelligent opinions on this.

“I’ll split these up and drop off your half.”

Pump. The. Breaks.

Has she met me?? I’d clearly taken my cool-mom act too far because this woman thought I was going to MAKE these funky 90s hair ribbons for the final game. I did what any faker does best and called all of my crafty friends to see who could come over and make the hair ribbons for me. Everyone was busy! I’d have to attempt this project myself.

First, cut the ribbon.

Next, use a hot glue gun to connect them in a zig-zag pattern. I plugged in the hot glue gun and realized I’d never used one before. I FaceTimed the mom I borrowed it from so she could explain the mystery contraption every crafter swears by.

Zig-zag pattern done. Now sew the ribbons to a rubber band.

At this point, I decided to look on Etsy and try to get some of these things overnighted at any cost.

Not possible.

I threaded the first needle I’ve touched since my mom taught me to sew buttons in elementary school.

“Mom! This is so cool! I can’t believe you’re making these!” It was almost as if the girls knew how much encouragement I needed. I was sweating.

But then my in-laws stopped by and, since we all know it takes a village, Dave’s dad and sister helped me sew the rest of the ribbons to the elastic bands and glue soccer balls on top.

Now the scary part… use a lighter to singe the ends and make sure the ribbon doesn’t unravel. Once you get over the fear of burning your house down, this is actually the coolest part!

Fast forward to this morning. When the last game started, it wasn’t the same team on the field. There was something different about these girls.

Life isn't perfect, but my hair sure is. — “Life isn’t perfect, but my hair sure is.”

They were running faster, and standing taller. It was clearly the hair ribbons.

The Golden Hawks fought hard today. But alas, they lost 3-0.

Did they spend part of the game catching raindrops in their mouths?

Yes.

Did they lose more games than any other team this season?

Yes.

But I’ll tell you what… no team in the league had better hair than those Golden Hawks. I’m calling that a win.

8 Nanny Applicants That Were Just… No

October 24, 2015 by momindcity 3 Comments

A new baby brings coos and cuddles. But before you know it… you’ve got to go back to work. And that means you’ve got to find childcare.

My plan is to keep Lorik out of daycare (and the cooties that come with it) for as long as possible, so I got a Care.com membership and started searching for a short-term nanny.

So many nannies of all shapes and sizes! The emails started coming—about a hundred within a week. Here are some of my favorite applicants, and by favorite I mean the ones who made me want to crawl into a hole and question humanity.

The nanny who doesn’t like crybabies. “If your baby cries for more than 5 minutes I will call you.”
The nanny who wants to shake your baby. “When a baby can’t stop crying I just shake them.” Should I email her a public service announcement?
The nanny who didn’t read the job description. “I will teach your kid to ride a bike, help with their homework and coloring, and take them on playdates.” Good because I was really sick of Lorik being the last baby to learn to ride his bike.
The nanny who laughs when you tell them what you can afford to pay. That happened.
The nanny who’s oh-so-sexy. I mean, I like sequins and short skirts just as much as the next girl, but maybe don’t use that photo for your nanny profile. We all know about Jude Law, Ethan Hawke and the Governator.
The nanny who had her friend call me because she doesn’t like to talk on the phone. Yeah ok, who does anymore? But what if there’s an emergency?!?
The nanny who likes convenience. “This really works well for my schedule,” is not the most convincing reason I’d leave you with my precious baby. Especially when it’s the only reason you can come up with.
The nanny who pretended to be someone else. When I called to check her reference, the woman on the other end of the line sounded strikingly similar to the nanny applicant. Because they were the SAME PERSON.

I haven’t been on the dating scene in a while, but if Match.com is anything like Care.com, the world is in trouble. Yet somehow… I found a unicorn. Someone who loves Lorik almost as much as I do, no matter how many times he screams in her face, throws up on her and poops in her hand.

What, like you've never done it? — What, like you’ve never done it?

And I’m not even going to mention the fact that she buys me coffee, takes beautiful photos of my baby and color codes my bookcases. Oh and she’s always early. And she’s just the most loving and kind young woman I’ve ever met. I kind of want to adopt her, but I don’t think you can do that with 23 year olds.

I’m not back at work full-time yet—just going in for meetings and working part time from home. And when my unicorn goes to nursing school in January, it’s back to the drawing board. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that there won’t be too many more nanny don’ts to add to the list, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

Baby, It’s Time You Got a Job

October 22, 2015 by momindcity 2 Comments

In our house, everybody contributes. Lira empties the trash can, Zana straightens the shoes and Dave does whatever I tell him to. So when I heard there was a job opening for a baby I just knew Lorik had to apply. It’s a teaching job with tough qualifications. The applicant must have been born this past summer, and…. um, well that may have been the only qualification. Whew- nailed it! During the interview we learned more: Lorik would come to the school once a month until his first birthday and teach empathy to 4^th graders. It’s an anti-bullying program developed in Canada that has gained popularity in New Zealand, Ireland and parts of the U.S.

According to the Roots of Empathy website, kids who take part in the program are “kinder, more cooperative, and more inclusive of others, and are less aggressive and less likely to bully others.” I wasn’t really sure how a baby could make all of that happen, but if anyone can do it Lorik can. Have you seen that face??

On his first day, Lorik didn’t nap all morning and I was pretty sure we were going to get fired when he had a meltdown in front of the class. I put him in the Ergo and did a few laps around the school so he could sleep for a quick 15 minutes. He was groggy but perked up right away when we walked into the classroom serenaded by the class with a welcome song. Each student smiled, said hello and touched his toes. He smiled back, quietly taking it all in.

The instructor who runs the program asked the kids for their observations “he’s calm, he’s happy.” They talked about how they could tell what he was feeling. “He’s making cooing sounds, he’s smiling.” Then we put him on his tummy and the kids sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” He instantly put his head down ready for a nap and I asked for volunteers to come home with me and sing him to sleep on demand.

The instructor decided that was enough of a good thing so she flipped him over and started “rowing” his legs. She calls it rowing, I call it bicycle kicks. Tomato/To-mah-to, it’s really just a recipe for a very loud fart. The class giggled and commented on how loud it was. He takes after his father, so you can only imagine.

Lorik was then propped up to face the class again as we talked about his height, weight and how many hours he (doesn’t) sleep at night. I’m still not sure how this whole thing works, but I will say that I have never in the history of ever seen a bunch of 4^th graders speak so softly and sweetly for that long.

When I brought Lorik back to pick up his sisters at school later, it was like I’d walked in with One Direction. “OMG It’s Baby Lorik! I know Baby Lorik! Can I say hi to Baby Lorik! What’s he doing? Is he sleeping? Is he happy? Is he farting?” Lorik, in true celebrity fashion, just stared through his “babiators” without giving them the satisfaction that he even noticed them.

I’d call this first day on the job a success.

Baby #3 Brings New Sense of Calm

September 18, 2015 by momindcity 16 Comments

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.

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!

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.