Triangle Mamas

The Little Things

by Cyndi

When my first-born was about 6 weeks old, my BFF (who already had two children of her own) came up from Atlanta for a visit. In addition to offering me her shoulder to cry on (who knew motherhood was so exhausting?!) and her wonderful, wise company, she also gave me a most important gift -- she taught me the importance of knowing the best to places to shop when you have a nursing baby.

While she was in town, we went to the mall -- I'm not much of a mall-shopper, but I was desperate to learn how to leave my house with the new baby without having a total meltdown (and I mean, me melting down, not the baby). Together, we figured out which department stores had bathrooms with a lounge area and which shops didn't give the stink-eye when we sat in the changing rooms for a baby snack. Those stores quickly became the only places I went when I needed to shop in those early, scary, newborn months.

As Junius got older and we added Pippi to the mix, my needs have changed over time -- these days I don't worry about a place to nurse, but I am always on the lookout for shops with family-friendly bathrooms. With one child in diapers and one potty-trained, we need a little of everything on a good potty break.

Today, while having a much-needed lunch with a friend, I discovered an impressive little family touch in the ladies' room at Bruegger's Bagels in Ridge Road Shopping Center -- the "invisible" potty seat. It's one of those three part toilet seats with a regular seat, a kid-sized seat and a lid all on one hinge (see photo). It's a small change, but a big deal for a new potty-trainee whose tushie would fall through the regular-size seat. Even thought I was there sans-kiddos, I was still thrilled to see the attention to detail.

In a time when families can feel more than unwelcome in some stores (see the Michigan Target store that called the police about a breast-feeding mom earlier this month -- although to be fair, the family bathroom at the North Hills Target is always clean and easy for potty breaks), it's nice to see a business taking steps to make families comfortable.

Share your tips here -- what are your favorite family-friendly places in the Triangle?

When Cyndi isn't scoping out public restrooms, she can be found chasing her two children (ages 4.5 and almost 2) or writing at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.

Image from Amazon.com.

An Evening with the Elves at Marbles

Recipe for Holiday Fun

by Abby

Ingredients

-------------------

1 Pajama-clad toddler or preschooler

20-30 of Santa's elves

1 Courtyard of "real" snow

1 Two hour serving of Live holiday music

2 Adult beverages (Fat Tire for the Daddy, wine for Momma)

3 Plates piled high with chicken, mac & cheese, carrots, and cinnamon apples

Cupcakes, cookies, and other yummy desserts (optional)

In a large children's play museum, combine the first 6 ingredients. Add cupcakes and desserts to taste.

Once thoroughly combined, you'll be rewarded with a very merry and entirely jolly Triangle family.

Although very busy with merriment making, Abby does still try to make time to document all the festivities over at her personal blog, My Sweet Babboo. If she finds herself too busy baking or gift wrapping, she may just Tweet about it since 140 characters is much faster than an entire blog post.

Triangle Mama or Aspiring Cat Lady?

Do you ever wake up one day and realize that you haven't left your house in a week? Or that going "all the way" to the grocery store takes ALL of your energy? This has definitely been the case in my life the past few weeks. I think it is one part cold weather (my Florida bones just aren't built for it) and one part busy season makes me want to crawl under a rock. However, at the same time I get lonely and mopey and pitiful. The result of my self-induced cabin fever. 

I stay at home with our 10-month old son, Oscar and I love it. But like everything, it's an adjustment. And whether you are working inside the home or out, it takes a lot of self-motivation to have the life you want - much like exercise. Tangent: I just finished watching the Biggest Loser finale where the winner was Danny, a previously 430lb father and husband, who lost 239lbs! I mean that is ridiculous! Where does one get THAT kind of motivation?? It boggles my mind. I suppose if there were $250k waiting for me at the grocery store, I would get there more often....

So where was I? Oh yeah, my couch. See, I love to exercise when I love it. And I love to socialize when I love it. But there are so many times when I think  I won't love it and talk myself out of doing something positive. Truly, if I would just go or do the thing I am fretting about I would totally feel great instead of sitting in a pile of laundry or cleaning or whatever it is that keeps me feeling like I don't have time for exercise, or friends, or you know having a life. 

Is it an age thing? I know that in high school and college I never had a problem making friends or just showing up somewhere to hang out. Now it's all invitation this and calendar that. When did life get so formal? Am I the only one who has a wardrobe of pajamas? Does anyone want to give me a cat?

Andrea is proud to say that today she ventured out of her home with clean hair, clean clothing and makeup. Her son Oscar was also clothed and fed. It was a good day. You can read more about their silliness at Lil-Kid-Things.

Lt. Harry P. "Flip" Kissinger IV - Update

by Sue

I am sad to say that our beloved local fireman and neighbor has passed away due to the injuries he endured in his accident last Friday.

This past week Flip had been fighting for his life, while his family, friends and community held their breath with heavy hearts to hear the word that he would be okay.

It saddens me to find out today that that day will never come. He fought a brave fight, but the injuries were to traumatic and eventually overcame him.

I did not know him closely, but I can tell you that our occasional interactions throughout the neighborhood always left a smile on my face. You could tell what a good person he was just by talking to him. He was friendly, inviting and very kind.

My heart and the hearts of our entire community goes out to his family. I have never experienced a tragic loss like this before, so I can only imagine what this must be like for Jill and their two girls.

I may not have first hand experience with a loss of this magnitude, but I do have experience in being a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen, a hand to hold and most importantly being a friend.

Do what you can for this family.

Even if you don't know them.

Even if what you can is just letting them know your heart goes out to them.

Let them know they have your support in this horrible time.

Funeral arrangements will be made in the next couple of days, but there are still ways that you can help.

May you rest in peace, Flip, and know you will be honored and missed always.

Lt. Harry P. "Flip" Kissinger

by Sue

Friday morning on December 4th time stood still.

Time stood still just second from our driveway.

A beloved neighbor of ours was coming home from work early Friday morning and was hit by a school bus heading in the opposite direction.

Lt. Harry P. "Flip" Kissinger and his family are a wonderful part of our neighborhood. We do not know his family closely, but we have enjoyed their company during neighborhood festivities, pool outings, walks with the kids and times when we just need help moving some furniture.

We heard about the crash the day it happened because it is the route that my husband takes to work every morning. When you hear about tragic events like this, especially ones that hit close to home, it is almost impossible to not personalize it.

"You take that route to work.", is all I could hear in my head over and over and over again looking at my husband walk out the door for the day.

That could have been anyone, any one of us, and it was, it was our friendly neighbor Flip.

Our hearts immediately were heavy for Flip, Jill and their girls. Our minds swirled with ways we could extend our hand in their time of need. "I am home all the time and the girls could come over here so Jill could be with Flip, we could send them meals, we could open an account for them so they could accept donations, we could just..."

We know them, but we don't know them well so I did the only thing I could think of, go door to door and find out if help was being extended.

Help was being extended and it has been extending ever since. The whole community has come together for Flip and his family. It makes you proud of the community you live in and happy that humanity and a sense of community is still alive and well.

I have spoken to some neighbors and found out that their basic needs are being met and that their support chain is long, but I still wanted to help in anyway I could, so I am turning to you dear readers and spreading the word about Flip, his accident and how you can help.

Below are links to news reports, caring sites and donation sites that will guide you to where help is most needed if you feel the urge to help.

Even if you think you can't help, you can, think about them when your family leaves for the day. Hug them for a little bit longer and remember that life can change in a flash.

Flip, Jill, Hannah and Abby, you are in our thoughts and our hearts!

Keep fighting Flip!!!



Kissinger Family Fund

Prayers for the Kissinger Family

WRAL News Stories

Friends for Flip Fundraiser, Sunday, December 26, 2009

RFD Wife, Cafepress store to benefit Kissinger family

Sue also blogs at Motherhood 'n' Me and you can follow her on Twitter too.

Why I Almost Lost It Over a Pink Lovey

by Melissa

Saturday was trouble in loveyland. 

Not even a week after writing this post about my son’s slowly-withering companion - a pink bear named Burt - we almost lost him forever in the cramped, crowded aisles somewhere in Toys R Us. 

The plan for the day was for Daddy Roo, Big Roo and I to drive to the nearest Toys R Us to finish our toy shopping. I live in not-the-middle-of-nowhere-suburbia but for some reason the closest store was 12 miles across town. Our main mission? Get Big Roo this awesome (and majorly on sale) V-Tech Digital Camera and pick up some miscellaneous things to finish off Santa’s duty for the Roo house. 

After Big Roo’s nap, we packed up and headed out on a dreary, drizzly and cold afternoon to Toys R Us. When we arrived, Big Roo as usual wanted to take Burt inside (along with the red AND blue Lightning McQueen). So we stuffed the cars in his pockets and I tossed Burt in the shopping cart.

While we were in line to check out, Big Roo started peering into the cart a wee bit too much so Daddy Roo decided to walk him around the store while I paid. As I waited in line, I heard Daddy Roo say, “We’re going to go search for a bathroom. He has to pee pee.” 

I think it was here that it all went downhill. 

As I was annoyingly rattling off my last three phone numbers hoping desperately that one of them was THE number I used for my Toys R Us Rewards Card (man I hate being THAT person but there I was), Daddy Roo huffed past me and muttered, “We didn’t make it.” He took Big Roo over near the exit to wait. As Big Roo turned around I saw the tell-tell sign of a kid who “didn’t make it”-- a big dark spot right in the crotch! I was so flustered trying to pay and feeling hurried to get the kid home for dry pants that the cashier had to remind me to take the bag of toys! 

We rushed out into the cold drizzle, strapped Big Roo in the carseat and shuffled into the car to warm up and get home. It was starting to get dark, we were getting hungry and - oh yeah - Big Roo is sitting in wet pants. We hop on the highway and sit painfully through stops, starts and red brake lights a plenty. About 15 minutes later, Big Roo proclaims “I want Burt.” 

My heart sank. 

My stomach dropped. 

Somehow I KNEW Burt wasn’t in the car, even before I turned around. I twisted my preggo body around to scan the back seat. Then I checked the abyss between the carseat and the door. I looked everywhere but Burt was gone. He was lost somewhere among all the shiny, new toys at Toys R Us. Ah, crap. 

Daddy Roo zips into the next exit lane. Time to turn around and see if Burt was a goner or not. The whole drive there my senses were acutely aware of our surroundings and it threw my annoyance level into overdrive. The rain hitting the windshield, the traffic, the fact that we weren't quite able to go the speed limit-- it was all slowing us down. My mind was racing, simultaneously trying to remember when the last time that we actually saw Burt was as well as picturing how Big Roo would go to sleep tonight if Burt wasn't in his bed. Or the next day when Burt wasn't there for him to squeeze when he woke up. Big Roo didn't quite understand the severity of what was happening in loveyland, but me, well, I was freaking out. Panicking. 

You can't just buy another pink bear, roll him in the dirt, wash him a zillion times and call it Burt. No, that would be an impostor. Burt was a one-and-only. And he was currently somewhere in or near a store full of hurried December shoppers. 

I tried to call Toys R Us but kept getting a busy signal. And the worst... Big Roo, a rare complainer, starts whining that he's gotta pee pee, totally in agony trying to stop himself from going again. Miserable. 

An eternity later, we arrived at the store. We drove slowly past the cart return to make sure he wasn't lying in the wet parking lot. Nope. 

We pulled into a spot then walked up to the store planning our attack: Daddy Roo would retrace our steps through the Lego aisle, PlayDoh and more, while I would ask customer service about Lost and Found. As I was waiting for someone to help me, Big Roo locks his knees together and squeals "I gotta pee pee!" 

I screwed waiting and picked Big Roo up to situate him around my preggo belly. I didn't want anyone to see his pants soaked in the front. Plus, we can get there faster this way. I start walking somewhere, anywhere hoping to spot an employee who can point me to the bathroom that eluded Daddy Roo just 30 minutes earlier. I grabbed the first person I saw, asked for the bathroom and told her we lost a pink bear. She points me to the potty and said she'd go see if someone turned him into Lost and Found. 

As I was hustling to the bathroom, I swear I felt it get warm around my waist. Not sure, but I think poor Big Roo peed again. If he did, he still managed to go again once we were in an actual stall. As we walked out of the bathroom and turned the corner, I saw the most relieving sight in recent mommy memory. The Toys R Us employee stood there, shoulders up straight with her hands behind her back. 

I just knew by the stance. 

She slowly pulled a tattered pink bear known as Burt out from behind her. "Were you looking for this?" She asked Big Roo. 

 He grinned and grabbed Burt for a big ole hug. My eyes watered as I gave her the thank you of all thank yous. I was pretty sure she's returned loveys to their rightful owners before, but in our world, she was our heroine. 

We ventured off to find Daddy Roo who was still on the search, collectively sighed with relief and then headed home for some dry pants. We never found out exactly where Burt was discovered or what adventures he had been on. But it really didn't matter. The separated were again inseparable. 

 Whew. That was close.

Cross-post by Melissa, caregiver of her two-year-old son and Burt. When she’s not playing bodyguard to a pink bear, she can be found blogging about kids and the outdoors at adventuroo.com.

Santa or No?

by Erin

I love Christmas. It’s such a MAGICAL time for me. I love being with my family. I love the spirit of the season. I have fond memories of Santa Clause. I loved the stories, I loved leaving out yummy goodies for the reindeer and I loved the simple magic of Jolly Ol’ St. Nick. I have no recollection of the day I found out he wasn’t real. Not a smidge of a catastrophe or a peek of being devastated lingers in my head.

Imagine my surprise when a few years ago, my husband made some off-hand comment about not doing Santa with our future children. Um…excuse me? I don’t know that I heard you correctly, WHAT?

For the last few years, I call him SCROOGE at least 2-3 times over the holiday season and we make a joke. But now the time is actually upon us to figure this thing out. I know that technically the Bug will have NO idea about Santa this year, and probably won’t next year either for that matter. But it’s the principle. And I feel we need to get to the bottom of it now.

I’ll admit…we haven’t had an in-depth conversation about this yet. I’m sort of avoiding it because I feel deep down that my husband will have a point and I’ll understand that point regardless of the fact that I want to tell him he has no soul and run and hide under the covers. He just doesn’t want to lie to our children – not out and out about something completely fictional. (We’ll work on the white lie with him later.)

So what do we do?

Do we simply talk about Santa in the context of Christmas but never say he’s coming to visit? (Ouch, I just felt a jab in my heart.) Do I tell the Bug that his daddy doesn’t believe in magic and fairy dust and to not listen to him? (Ok, bad idea.) I just don’t want our kid to be the one who ruins it for everyone else. I can just imagine the phone calls I get from parents telling me the Bug told their kid “You silly, Santa Clause is a made-up story by adults who enjoy perpetuating lies to their children for their own pleasure.” ACK! I don’t want that.

I’m not one to say that he’s watching you as I know some families do. It makes sense to me as a way to get your children to behave, but I sort of think it’s creepy. The idea of some old man watching me when I’m sleeping gives me the willies. I just want the Bug to be able to write Christmas lists…to see his excitement on Christmas morning as he looks out to see what Santa brought for him. I guess it would be just as exciting to see what mom and dad brought him, but that just doesn’t seem as fun to me.

And the hubs and I are in complete agreement about taking him to see Santa at the mall. That sounds like PURE HELL to me. It won't happen. I'm not standing in line with a bunch of snotty nosed, H1N1 ridden kids just to sit my child on some random guy's lap. Wow...I didn't realize I felt so strongly until I spit out that sentence. Guess there's a bit of Scrooge in everyone!

But seriously, I know there has to be a happy medium. I just want the Bug to have a little bit of Santa. I know we can’t be the only family who has to deal with this issue.

What do you think? How do we make this work?

Erin also blogs at her Parents Pick 2009 winning blog at Motherhood in the Industry. Follow her on Twitter @Mktg_Mama.

Read Locally

I'm exhausted -- but for once, it's not my children's fault. This time, I blame John and Ray. And Conker, Jolie, Si, Buck and Nel.

This cast of characters kept me up late last week -- not at a rock concert or the newest club (seriously, I should be so cool), but sitting on my own couch unable to stop reading. John is a friend from college and more famously known as John Claude Bemis, the newly-published author of The Nine-Pound Hammer. Ray is the main character in his book, the first in a trilogy that follows the orphan as he and the others embark on the story that's been occupying my late-night mind.

Inspired by his work as a teacher and a bluegrass musician, John has created a novel that blends the fantasy elements of a Harry Potter story with the landscape of American folklore. Here's the blurb from the cover:

"Twelve-year-old Ray is haunted by the strangest memories of his father, who Ray swears could speak to animals. On a quest to find out what happened to him, Ray falls in with a band of young sideshow performers traveling through the South in a rickety old train. For the first time in years, Ray feels at home.

But something strange is going on. From a locked train car, Ray hears hypnotic singing. And the performers themselves -- the strong man, the fire-eater, the blind sharp-shooter... their talents seem almost magical. Ray investigates and discovers that the old stories about John Henry and Johnny Appleseed are true in ways he never would have dreamed, that an ancient evil these characters fought is rising again, and that Ray himself may have a place in new stories only now being written."

One reviewer called it "a steampunk collision of heroes, mermaids, pirates and good old-fashioned Americana." I can't quite do it justice, although I do like the word "steampunk" -- but I can tell you that the book was hard to put down. And I think it's amazing that someone I know has written and published a real live book for middle-grade readers (which apparently includes me). 

Since John lives in Hillsborough, if you're trying to shop local this holiday season, you get a double word score if you buy his book from an independent bookseller. If you want to sample before you buy, John will be reading and making music in Charlotte on Friday, Dec. 4, and in Durham on Saturday, Dec. 5. Be sure to tell him I sent you!

Note: No compensation was offered or received from the author, his publisher or any of the stores linked here in exchange for this post. However, I am hoping that it might entice John to send me an advance copy of the second book in the series, which is due in stores next summer.

__________________

Cyndi can also be found at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake, where she likes to list more of her favorite books for children and grown-ups.

Loveys Gone Pink: The Curious Case of a Boy's Fave Companion

by Melissa

For the longest time we wondered if our son was going to become sweetly yet unreasonably attached to an inanimate object better known in mom-land as a lovey. Would it be his soft yellow blanket lined with silk? What about the plush bunny his aunt bought him at the Grand Canyon? Heck, maybe it’d be something a little less soft like a toy train. 

Turns out a little critter did make his way to my son’s heart. 

Turns out it's more hilarious, more adorable and more telling of his originality than any lovey I could have ever selected for him. 

 Turns out it was a pink bear. 

 And way back when he looked like this.

   

Let’s examine this for a second. Pink and white fur with a lace heart that says to that special someone “My Honey.” I imagine this bear was a $4.99 Valentine’s Day special at Walgreens one year, don’t ya think? 

Everyone we meet is always curious how a rough and tumble boy ended up with such ...well... pink lovey. Here's the short of it: When we lived in Phoenix, our little one went to a home daycare. Around the time he turned one, when we'd arrived at daycare in the morning he'd run up to a shelf of toys and grab this bear. His teacher proclaimed that the pink bear was his favorite and he'd walk around with it all day. So when the time came to move from Arizona to North Carolina last year, she bestowed upon him the bear as a going-away gift. Little did she know just how much that bear meant to him. From then on, the bear has been my son's constant companion. 

About a month after he became the official owner of such an unsuspecting treasure, my son officially dubbed him "Burt." We aren't sure where the name came from, but there you have it. The pink bear was now simply Burt. 

Just how attached is my son to Burt? 

He sleeps with Burt tucked under his elbow... he holds Burt over his face when he's feeling shy... he extends Burt to people he meets when he's NOT feeling shy... he gets up really close to Burt’s face and wiggles Burt's head while laughing with a squeal... he lets Burt take the first bite of food when he isn’t sure he’s gonna like it… let’s face it, the kid is insanely attached to this pink bear.  

Every kid in his daycare class knows Burt. So do all the teachers. He doesn’t actually carry Burt around during the day much anymore at home or at daycare. In fact, he’s in my son’s cubby when I arrive to pick him up after work. But Burt is the first thing he wants when I walk in the classroom. Even before I get a hug, Burt has got to be let out of his cubby cage. It's endearing and hilarious at the same time. He is the lovey of all loveys that pink bear. And here’s what he looks like after a year or so of rough-and-tumble love (on a good day).

   

When we go out in public, it’s quite interesting how people react when they see my son clutching a pink bear. We mostly get the people who smile and laugh, not to ridicule, but in a loving sort of way. They think it’s absolutely adorable that our son is fascinated by a pink bear. But we sometimes get snide comments like “my husband would DIE if my son’s favorite toy was a bear.” Really, would he really DIE? Is he that insecure that he’s ashamed his son carries a PINK bear? Wow, can’t wait to hear what happens when your son wants to try out for band instead of play on the football team. 

I mean, seriously, my biggest fear isn’t the made-up conclusions that strangers come to about my parenting skills because I let my son carry around a pink bear. 

My biggest fear is that Burt is deteriorating rapidly. 

He gets washed nearly every week on “hand wash” but I still can’t keep the little guy from the inevitable- clumpy, tattered and discolored fur that looks like shows just how much he's been loved so far. He’s even had a hole sewn up once by Grandma. And his token “my honey” heart is now detached and rests somewhere on my son’s bedroom floor. It’s not like I could have stocked up on Burt look-a-likes, ya know? For better or worse, Burt is simply irreplaceable. 

What is this mama going to do when Burt falls apart in the oh-so-gentle hand wash cycle? Or worse, what if I leave him in the store shopping cart all alone, only to be tossed in the trash by some gum-chomping teenager who has no idea what that bear means to this little child? Yep, those are my worst fears… that Burt will leave my son before my son is ready to leave him. 

And so I wash him in a net sack so he's less likely to fray in the wash. I guard him fiercely when we're out and about. I'm quickly scoop him up when he falls onto wet asphalt in a dirty parking lot. All to give my little guy a little more time with Burt. So maybe, just maybe, Burt will ride out all his glory days as a lovey... until my son moves on.

Cross-post by Melissa, caregiver of her two-year-old son and Burt. When she’s playing bodyguard to a pink bear, she can be found blogging about kids and the outdoors at adventuroo.com.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

I love the Christmas season. I wish it lasted a lot longer. In fact, when Ilina Tweeted the other day, "I am so irritated that one local radio station is Xmas music 24/7 & that our city's Xmas parade is *this* Saturday," my reaction was to find that radio station the very next time I got in my car.

Our family tradition is to go buy our trees (yes, plural) the day after Thanksgiving. That weekend is spent decorating trees, changing out our everyday white dishes to the Portmerian Christmas dishes, and loading the CD player with Christmas music. We watch "A Christmas Story," "Elf," and "A Charlie Brown Christmas."

I typically have at least half of my presents purchased and wrapped by Thanksgiving because what tree wants to sit lonely in the corner with no gifts?

The table linens are changed out to trees and snowmen, and the glasses in the cabinet all have Santa on them. Most every part of the decor that is interchangeable is changed out for Christmas.

I am by no means a Thanksgiving hater. I love Thanksgiving. I love cooking for Thanksgiving and celebrating Thanksgiving. My desire to have Christmas come early this year has nothing to do with a disrespect of Thanksgiving.

I just wanted Christmas to last a little longer.

But I have a confession. As Little Bird and I drove to Chapel Hill yesterday listening to 101.5 and their 24/7 Christmas music, I just couldn't get into it. Some of it had to do with their horrific choices (please, God, why did you let Stevie Nicks record "Silent Night"?), but most of it had to do with the heat, humidity, and the fact that I hadn't made my 20 gallon stock pot of turkey stock yet.

So all of you Twitter friends, I take it back. I'm waiting for Thanksgiving. Impatiently waiting, but waiting nonetheless.

**************************************************

What about y'all? When does Christmas start at your house? How long does it last? What are your traditions to bring in the holidays with your family?

When Marty isn't holding her breath for Christmas, she also blogs at Don't Take the Repeats. You can argue with her about grits and Christmas music on Twitter.