Triangle Mamas

Halloween 2009, Triangle Mamas Style

In no particular order, here are some of the adorable children of the Triangle Mamas.

This is Abigail in her mama's German dirndl from when she was two.  NIkki says, "I like to think of this as her dramatic reenactment of Gretl's 'So Long, Farewell' exit in The Sound of Music."

Here are Juni and Pip, Cyndi's little ones. Buzz Lightyear here even had "Andy" written on the bottom of his shoe. Very authentic.

What might have been a dragon on the hanger became a dinosaur on Linus. Abby's little man was rawry scary.

From our newest Triangle Mama, Kelly, whose inaugural post will be live Wednesday, we have Mr. Wyatt.

Little Bird was a Little Bear for the day. Marty and her sewing machine pulled off a handmade Halloween again this year, but only with a couple of hours to spare.

Cindy's little dino was so excited, she had the costume on in Target the day they were picking it out.

 

Ilina had a handmade Halloween too. Here is Super Deal and Ninja Bird in all their glory.

Welcome to fall, y'all. Bring on the turkeys and the trees!

Making Beautiful Music Together

When I was four years old, my mother took me to Kindermusik classes -- some of the first in the U.S. My mom then became my first piano teacher, starting me on lessons that would last through three other teachers until I graduated high school. Later, my mom became a Musikgarten teacher, singing and dancing with other moms and babies.

Given that history, and the fact that my kids really love all sorts of music and dancing, I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit that I finally took Junius and Pippi to our first music class last week. But better late than never -- all three of us had a great time singing, playing, dancing and jumping along with Ms. Angela and the nine other mommies and 12 other children. In addition to being great fun in a musical learning environment, it's also one of the few activities I could take the kids to at the same time -- not a lot of kids programs are open to both a 4-year-old and a 19-month-old.

During the class, Ms. Angela encouraged all the mommies to sing regularly to their children. "No matter what you think your voice sounds like," she said, "your children will think it's the most beautiful sound they've ever heard." I liked that advice and decided this was a good time to stop listening to NPR in the car and start singing along with our new Music Together CD.

So on our way to Nanna and PopPop's house last week, I put in the disc -- the kids were smiling and clapping and trying to sing along. And I'm thinking what a great mommy I am that I can take them to this fun class and then sing with them in the car and how happy they must be to hear my beautiful voice.

Then Junius pipes up from the back seat. "Mommy," he says. "When you are singing...?"

And I'm waiting for him to say how much fun it is when I sing and he can sing and Pippi is learning to sing and how much he loves me...

"Mommy, when you are singing," he says, "I can't hear the music. Mommy, please don't sing."

His comment left me speechless, thus having the desired effect.

I'm just hoping he won't complain when I start singing even louder in class this week.

When Cyndi isn't offending her son by trying to sing with Music Together, she and her kids like to rock out with Big Bang Boom, They Might Be Giants and Barenaked Ladies. She can also be found writing at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.

Confession: I Do Love a Jon Jon

We all have our varying opinions on the jon jon. Before Little Bird was born, I imagined him wearing nothing but jon jons, romping across the playground in his little smocked coveralls. I'm not sure what I was drinking at the time, but his entrance into real life complete with poop, pee, drool, dirt, and general stickiness soon changed my mind on the jon jon.

Now, I reserve the jon jon for church on Sunday morning and other occasions where he needs to be a little more dressed up. We don't wear them to Marbles, and he won't be wearing them to Mother's Morning Out, no matter how many other little boys will.

For some reason though, Bird still has way more jon jons hanging in his closet than I have pride to admit. I blame Kelly for this. Kelly runs Divine Consign in Raleigh. Divine Consign hosts trunk shows of overstocks and consignment sales a few times a year. It's not your average consignment sale. You don't have to dig through to find things that aren't stained or that you could buy just as cheaply if you caught them on clearance. Kelly takes only high end, gently worn children's clothes, saving moms like me who only like to shop in front of a computer screen a lot of time and hassle.

If she hadn't made it easy enough for us, now she has also started a blog. This post on how to shop a consignment sale was incredibly helpful, and I thought worth passing along.The next show is August 31 through September 4 at Stonehenge Shopping Center in Raleigh.

What about you? Do you hit consignment sales for your kids' clothing? What other ones are worth a look? Do you sell at consignment sales? Do you have any additional shopping or selling tips?

Let's help each other continue to dress our children way way better than we dress ourselves. That is until What Not to Wear shows up on my doorstep and rescues me from myself.

An original Triangle Mamas post. This post was not sponsored by Divine Consign in any way. We just happen to like moms in business for themselves, especially when they do it so well. In fact, if you have a mom in business here in the Triangle who you think we should feature, please contact us. We don't do reviews, but we share our positive and negative experiences freely here.

When Marty isn't busy ironing jon jons, she writes about everyday things at Don't Take the Repeats and Deep South Moms. When she has less to say, she hangs out on Twitter.

On the Right Path

I don't want to sleep there, I'm not particularly interested in peeing there, and I certainly don't want to cook there, but I do love the woods. I love the Black Mountains specifically, and I love streams.

I'm not sure why we don't do more hiking. We have the dogs for it. We have the kid for it. We have the love for it. We just don't get around to it.

My husband, Kevin is a doer. There is always a project either in full swing or in planning mode. It is one thing I love about him. He finishes what he starts, and he starts big things. His plans are not lightly made nor are they easy to finish. Right now, he is adding onto the house. Just he and the contractor. When he comes home from work , he works some more. On the weekends, he's building. I'm excited for the new spaces, but I think I am more excited for him to finish so that I have some of his time and attention back.

All this to say, I think this is why we don't hike. We do things together as much as possible, but this is a stage in our life where Kevin is determined to get things in order. I love him for that. I miss him, but I love him.

While we were in the mountains recently, staying in Catawba Falls Preserve, I had him back to myself one day. He wanted to know what I wanted to do, and I chose this hike. We packed a backpack full of snacks, water, and diapers. The dogs got to tag along and tap into their inner hunters. Gibson, our chocolate lab, ran out about 10 feet ahead with his tail pointed straight up. He even helped corral Little Bird when he got too far ahead of us. Our English Setter, Aja, stayed on leash and ignored her bird dogs instincts in favor of reading the mail on the ground.

We missed a turn along the way - rather, I missed a turn, and we ended up about 40 minutes off track. Luckily, we had also packed our Babyhawk, so tired Bird could ride on his daddy's back when he got tired. And after playing nekkid in the creek for awhile?

Bird was really really tired.

It was a great day with my boys, my dogs, and a trail in the mountains.

When she isn't dreaming of her own mountain getaway, Marty blogs at Don't Take the Repeats. When she has less to say, she resorts to quipping on Twitter.

You mean I'm supposed to chew food?

I don't know how many times I've spent a morning dreaming of a day when Starbucks will add a train table if not an entire play area to their coffee shops. I mean, it could just be open for the mid-morning and late afternoon hours when caffeine-addicted moms need a place to get a hit while still entertaining and socializing their kids. Wouldn't it be great?

I know, I know, McDonald's now has McCafe's and Barnes & Noble even has Starbucks and train tables, but I hate McDonald's and Barnes & Nobles has shelves and shelves of books just taunting my toddler to destroy. I'm talking a gated play area where a coffee bar is within sight distance. Wouldn't it be loverly?

What I don't understand is why more places don't follow the lead of one of my favorite local restaurants, Blue Corn Cafe. This place has a separate rooms for patrons with kids and patrons without. It's so nice to not have to worry about your toddler throwing a tantrum because he wants his own bowl of guacamole to dip in because there's another one loudly demanding his quesadilla at the next table.

As if separate but equal dining spaces weren't enough, the with-kids dining room has a play area stocked with toys, a chalkboard covered wall, a play mat, and a full library of VHS kids tapes. While you are getting sat down and offered a menu, your preschooler is digging out a fire truck from the toy basket. I can't even remember another restaurant where I've been able to actually read the menu rather than just randomly selecting an entree.

Now I understand the importance of teaching your child to sit politely at the table, but there are just some nights I would like to sit and sip a really yummy Mojito without slurping it down between reiterations of "Sit down. Be patient." We work on manners at home and at other restaurants, but at Blue Corn, I prefer to sit back, munch on tasty fried plantain chips, and watch as my son lies on someone else's floor rolling cars back and forth.

If you're like me and could sometimes use the "dining out" option that really is a bit of a break, or if you just like really good Latin-American food, then Blue Corn Cafe on Durham's Ninth Street is the place for you.

Who knows? We might just see you there.

Crossposted at Abby's personal blog My Sweet Babboo where she doesn't just write about food. Although come to think of it, she does write about food a lot there too.

pick yourself up, dust yourself off

It’s been one of those days with my future DRAMA MAJOR that leads me to question not only my sanity, but whether or not I should have ever become a mother.

And it’s barely noon.

Any of you have mental illness in your extended family medical history? I do. Some very bad seeds? Me, too. Unhealthy patterns in parenting? How about anger management issues, depression, and passive-aggressiveness?

That’s just my adoptive family. My biological family was one big Korean soap opera. And it’s harder to detach myself from the crazy in their family, since I am actually genetically related to them. At times, when I feel particularly shitty as a mother, I imagine that all the bad parenting qualities in both my families have coalesced into one perfect storm of nature and nurture and settled in me, with my daughter as the unsuspecting victim.

I remember when I first learned the truth about my birth family – specifically, about the abuse and misery my birthmother had inflicted on my sisters, and the fact that she was a truly disturbed woman who hadn’t wanted me because I was “another girl.” Also, I was born so prematurely, the doctors were sure I’d never lead a “normal life.” As it turns out, I was the luckiest of my birthparents’ daughters, because I was the one they gave up.

The night I learned all of this, I couldn’t sleep. Of course, it might have had something to do with being eight a half months pregnant with Abigail at the time. I just lay there in bed, hour after hour, asking myself, “Am I going to be like them? Am I going to be a bad parent?”

I think that most people have the potential to be good, even great parents. The truth I had never really confronted – until that night, facing down the skeletons in my family closet for the first time – was that most people also have the potential to be extremely bad parents. I decided I had probably not inherited some “bad parenting gene” that would doom me and my children to a life of unhappiness. But I would still have to be aware of my limitations, my weaknesses, and yes, my sins. I would have to be humble.

Sometimes, when everything is going well with Abigail and we’re clipping along for weeks on end with no major disasters or meltdowns, I forget to feel thankful for the relative peace. I may even get a little cocky, and start to think that I have something to do with how smoothly things are running. But days like today keep me humble and well-acquainted with my own faults, lack of patience topping the list.

I hate feeling so aware of my own powerlessness, when I can do nothing to make my daughter feel any better; when I put her down early for a nap and then punch a pillow in sheer frustration; when I sit numbly on the couch with a cup of tea in my hands and seriously – seriously – question whether someone like me (lazy! impatient! selfish! only child! needs alone time! has latent CRAZY GENES!) should have ever had a child in the first place. Too late to spare Abigail, but maybe she doesn’t need a sibling. Maybe, I think to myself, maybe there’s somewhere I could get a tubal over my lunch break.

Here’s where I should stop feeling sorry for myself and say something uplifting, something positive about motherhood. If I wanted to, I could say what a lot of parents say – that I’m aware of my faults, but that having a child has given me the perfect opportunity to work hard to correct those faults for the sake of another person. And that’s true, except you don’t have a child as a means to self-improvement. Abby deserves a good mom now, not a good mom-in-training.

If I were grading myself as a mother today, it would be pretty grim. Not even a gentleman’s C. But she’s napping, praise God and all the saints, and I have another few minutes to repair my tattered nerves. A deep breath, a sip of tea, and some lunch are in order.

Soon she’ll wake up, and I will still be here. I’m leaning towards still being here, anyway. And then we’ll start all over again.

Nikki has officially made it to bedtime and is about to start drinking heavily. This entry was written earlier today and cross-posted at A Small Song.

Le Sigh

I am convinced that the Triangle region of North Carolina is home to some of the worst drivers in the country. I mean, I'm totally cool with people who drive the speed limit, but people who drive 10 under on a road where most people drive 10 over? That's just annoying. Or worse yet, people who come to a stop, A STOP, at an on-ramp to wait  for a large enough clearing in freeway traffic to merge. Could they have not thought ahead and started looking at the traffic patterns before they got to the very end of the merge lane?

I guess my driving frustrations are starting to show. Today while riding in the car, once again frustrated at my fellow drivers, I heard Linus let out a big sigh. Unsure if I heard right, I questioned him, "What?" He again gave a very dramatic sigh. Thinking back, I realized that he was mimicking what I had just done when some irresponsible driver cut over 3 lanes of traffic while driving 20 under to catch an exit.

Lucky for me, a sigh was all I had for that driver. It used to be worse. I mean, my mom did teach me the superior communication ability of my middle finger in those situations.

Crossposted at My Sweet Babboo. When she's not journeying from playgroup to Target to Local Yogurt, Abby can be griping about it on Twitter or her personal blog, My Sweet Babboo.

Fourth Festivities

Even if you aren't heading to the beach for the holiday weekend, there is still plenty of fun happening right here in the Triangle. Here in Durham you even have parade options for the younger set.

Your first option is to participate in a 60 year running parade of children over in the Watts-Hillandale neighborhood. Bring your bikes, wagons, or strollers all decked out in red, white, and blue and join the parading masses as they celebrate the independence of our country, the spirit of children, and the comfort of good neighbors. Festivities begin at 10AM at the neighborhood's park in the 2200 block of West Club Blvd and will continue following the parade in Oval Park.

If your a bit more of a procrastinator, like me, you can opt to join in the less historical but just as fun Central Park Children's Parade. To participate, just bring your wagons and bikes to Central Park. The good folks from The Scrap Exchange will be on hand with plenty of re-purposed supplies for turning your tiny transportation into a spectacular Independence Day float. Central Park and The Scrap Exchange is located in the 500 block of Foster Street. Decorating begins at 9:45AM with the parade scheduled to depart at 10:45AM from the corner of Foster and West Corporation.

Both options are loads of fun and last just long enough to make sure that your baby, toddler, or preschooler is home in time for a quick lunch and afternoon nap. They are definitely gonna need that nap, and you too, if there is any hope of them staying awake to enjoy fireworks.

For other 4th of July activities going on around the Triangle, check out MyNC where they have a round up of the local festivities.

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Abby, an avid pie baker, is hoping for a long enough afternoon nap to throw together a cherry pie. Of course, if she gets too involved in blogging or Twitter, she'll get nothing done. You can read about all of her projects at her personal blog, My Sweet Babboo.

Pharmacy Field Trips

(Four infected ears + four infected eyes) / two children = three pediatrician visits x one tired mommy.

Given that we've been making lots of trips to the pharmacy lately, I'm grateful that the people at the Hayes-Barton Pharmacy are so sweet and lovely. They help my children feel better by getting the medicine ready quickly, and they help me feel better by making it easy to patronize a local business. Plus Pippi likes the personal attention and Junius likes sitting near the counter to munch a bag of chips while we wait -- a small treat that goes a long way.

My father-in-law was a retail pharmacist for more than 40 years, and he sets a high standard for me in how I expect to be treated at the pharmacy. These days it's easy to drive through whatever Walgreens/Rite-Aid/CVS/Kerr drug store is on the nearest corner and never actually see your pharmacist.

But at Hayes-Barton Pharmacy, it's worth the walk inside to meet the pharmacists and assistants, to wander the small aisles and have someone know us by name. I figure they are as important to my children's health as their pediatricians -- and goodness knows we spend plenty of time in that office, too.

When she's not busy administering amoxicillin and augmentin, Cyndi can be found writing at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.

Living is Easy with Eyes Closed

It's Spring time in the Triangle and you know what that means: STRAWBERRIES! Whether you find yours at the Farmers' Market or you head out and pick your own, the time to do it is now.

Linus's playgroup ventured to a local farm right here in Durham County where the berries were sweet, the weekday crowds small, and the picking cheap. At $1.35 per pound, you can afford to be greedy. Grab your buckets, baskets, and rainboots (if it's just rained) and get yourself to a farm.

They won't even mind if you taste a few.

Of course, the kids may be enthralled with the farm machinery far more than the berries but you'll be pleased either way.