Chattahoochee Mama

I don't know if someone particular said this, but over the past 3 years I have often thought of this saying:

When you are raising children, the days are long and the years are short.

Since I have become a mother of two, this has become even more of a reality. The days have definitely gotten longer, and I was just saying to my sister on the phone the other day that time goes by so much quicker when you have a second child. And I would imagine this to be the case for number 3 or 4 as well.

The other morning I was watching Wyatt as he cut a fake watermelon with a fake knife, and I suddenly realized that Dylan isn't the only one who has been growing up the past 6 months! Wyatt has totally changed and matured so much since Dylan was born. He was just a baby himself when he helped us welcome his new brother into this world. When did he start playing make-believe, or decide he loved scary monsters?

As I watched him, I found myself longing for that time back... so I could try to catch those moments when Wyatt lept into each new stage of toddlerdom. Then I thanked God for long days, and I prayed for even longer years.

Hugo's always been a total Mama's boy - giving me the best hugs and always making me feel ultra special and proud. But recently, FINALLY, just over 2 years after his birth, he's finally starting to say "Mah-ye" with regularity. After holding the label "Daddy" for what seemed like EVER, I finally get to hear my name - and it's fantastic.

Cookie magazine has an article this month called "city mom, country mom." It's written by a mom who struggles between two types of parenting: the laid-back mom who lets her kid learn from mistakes (even if it costs them a trip to the ER), and the one who worries about everything from beestings to stroller safety. She says, no matter what side your on, you cannot escape the judgement.

I'll admit that living in northern Virginia (albeit more suburbia than city) I have had similar experiences. I think no matter where you live, we've all gotten "the look" from other moms - I got it more times than I could count when Wyatt broke his arm at age 2. I'm happy to say that I don't feel pressure to be either way, but that doesn't mean it isn't still there. Shouldn't motherhood be a time to unite with other moms, as different as we all may be?

I've officially got it. Two warm (ish) days and I'm ready to toss the boots and heavy parkas back into storage. I can't wait for mornings at the RTC, playdates at the tot lot, and iced drinks from Starbucks.

Strapping Wyatt into his carseat today without his bulky 3 layer jacket was so refreshing, and nothing is more frustrating than keeping an infant warm in the winter. So I know there are probably some cold days ahead, but I'm just glad that Phil saw his shadow this year - we all know he's much more believable than the weather peeps - because it gives me hope that spring is just around the corner=)

Hi Girls. I come to you distressed and disgruntled. Not because of my inescapable fast-approaching midterm week next week, but because of the babysitter ish. 

So, remember in middle school when you were all about reading those Babysitter's Club books (okay, maybe it was just me), where there were like 5 girlfriends who banded together and formed this club where moms could just call up when the club was in session, and they had all the gals there who would pipe up, "Yeah I can watch Margaret for you..." or "Can you do it, Kristy? Cause I have dance lessons..." 

Ann M. Martin was not just the author of those exquisite tween novels.  Oh no - she was a visionary - and probably a Momma in need of a good sitter so she could finish her many works.  And where was that club at? Somewhere in Connecticut I think, Stoneybrook, if my mental literary encyclopedia of unimportant fictional information serves me correctly... I think I just might move there.

Yesterday, I was on a hunt for a babysitter and would've really appreciated such a club meeting.  Instead I looked to the horrible, horrible internet for help. Don't get me wrong, the internet is great for finding things- things like couches, DVDs, and puppies that need homes, but absolutely disastrous for locating a sitter (in my humbly rotten-moodish opinion).

So there are multiple websites, the most notable and popular of which is SitterCity, which boasts hundreds of sitters at your fingertips. With a simple search tool, type in your zip code, and you'll find a heap of babysitters from age 17 to old, waiting for your phone call. All to the tune of $50 buckaroos, (or the, *sarcasm* waaay more economical cause they've waved the atrocious $40 dollar start up fee) $96 buckaroos if you go with the yearly plan. Yearly whaaa?? Is this not pure insanity??

Other sites might have smaller fees, but have less reliable-looking sitters, (ie: ones that are 13 and asking 1 dollar an hour) but regardless, I haven't seen any fees less than 30 bucks, which is still ridiculous.

I totally understand the purpose behind the fees - to protect the personal information of all their babysitters, but honestly - 96 dollars? Why is there no better, more accessible, and more pocket book- friendly alternative to locating a sitter? Yesterday I was forced to break out the Rolodex (these days, we call them cell phones - but I thought I'd use another throw-back reference since we were already talking middle school literature) and scroll through all my infrequently dialed numbers of semi-close peeps who might know someone who knows someone whose teenage daughter might babysit. Talk about awkward conversations!

The end result? I finally found a sitter, and one that I'm really excited about, actually. But it didn't come without three new stress-induced pimples and complete max-out on my much-coveted daytime minutes.