Just Breathe Mom » birthday

Bounce At Your Own Risk

Meredith — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 19:09:02 +0000

This past Saturday my sons and I attended a birthday party for a 6-year-old at a jump & play facility. It’s basically a party place for kids and is filled with several inflatable bounce houses. Each bounce house includes a slide. They have smaller party rooms where the kids eat pizza, drink juice and snack on birthday cake. It’s the all the rage these days, and it was a huge hit for the little ones. But it was a nerve-racking experience for me.

I knew I was in trouble when the jump & play facility made me sign a waiver releasing them from any and all injury liability. I noticed that most other moms had the same worrisome look on their faces that I had. The dads…not so much. Every time I turned around, another kid was crying because he was either jumped on, head-butted or knocked to the floor by an out of control bounce.

The facility had a couple of “referees” if you will, who were supposed to be monitoring the little kangaroos. But they were outnumbered and overwhelmed. So I put on my badge and started policing the place myself. Kids were getting nervous when they saw me heading their way, but someone had to keep these sugar-buzzed maniacs in line. (Oh yeah, cutting in line was HUGE.) Kids this age will disregard as many rules as possible in a fun place like this without a little monitoring.

So as I was comforting another banged up kid, I was wishing for some Excedrin and praying that we (me and my children) would make it out alive. We managed to escape unscathed. And my children can’t wait to go back. I can. I can wait a long time.

Next time, I’ll make the suggestion to my friend that she check out some other party ideas and locations on JustBreatheMom.com that are a little less stressful for moms of younger kids.

Toys ARE Us!

Meredith — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 19:54:06 +0000

Help! Our house is being swallowed by toys. I don�?Tt think there is one 5 square feet of space in our house that doesn�?Tt have at least one toy sitting in it. I have even found those suckers in my bed while sleeping. Yes it�?Ts true, a little Spiderman action figure was trying to get fresh with me in my sleep the other day. Needless to say, he got a swift kick across the room and into the hallway.

So what happened? How did we accumulate so much crap in so few years? I�?Tve gotten rid of a great deal, but it seems that these toys are multiplying like amoebas in a Petri dish. And I can�?Tt seem to get it under control.

The two biggest problems with our home�?Ts toy invasion are: small parts and drive-thru junk. I never feel bad about tossing the crap toys my sons have accumulated from the occasional trip to McDonalds. Of course I have to make sure they don�?Tt catch me in the act of throwing them away, and I have to make sure the toys are not in view from the top of the trash can. Now, the small parts to the bigger toys are a pestilence of their own. I have never been good about keeping the toys with a high count of small parts together. I�?Tve tried leaving it to the boys to care for their toys. Big mistake. I�?Tm still finding little frickin fishes in odd places from an old fishing toy my sons stopped playing with ages ago. I stepped on one of those b*stards the other day. I actually thought I had gotten rid of that thing! So what gives?

My next door neighbor is a wise woman. She has one son who is 2 years older than my oldest son. Her son is more than happy to give his no longer played with toys to my sons. And she is more than happy to let him. Which in turn, makes my sons very happy. So as she is downsizing her toy menace, mine is growing by the week.

In my hopes to simplify our lives, I�?Tve asked my extended family members to buy my older son books instead of toys if they wish to get him any gifts for his upcoming birthday. I hope they respect my wishes. I can only hope that I will someday have to write a blog about our out of control book collection!

Rumble In The Playroom

Meredith — Mon, 10 Sep 2007 01:49:51 +0000

I was so impressed with the behavior of both of my sons at the birthday party for my 3 year old. We had a very small party for him. Only family members and our 7 year old neighbor attended. I thought my 5 year old was going to explode with jealousy when it came time for presents. But I was pleasantly surprised. He seemed genuinely happy for his little brother. And his little brother had no problem sharing his new toys. It was all just a little too perfect.

Well it did not take long for reality to set in. Actually, it took about 24 hours for the gloves to come off. My 5 year old forgot how stingy he was at his last birthday, and my 3 year old remembered how stingy he is every day. I’m not sure Optimus Prime himself could have stopped these two and their battle for the greatest transformer. So mom and dad spent their Sunday afternoon playing referee to two sugar buzzed toddlers. We finally brokered some peace with a pile of moon sand. A peace that would unfortunately only last until bath time, when the battle for the ultimate shark toy began. Hopefully all the excitement in one day will make for a peaceful night of sleep. We shall see…

Just Not One of Those Moms

Joey — Tue, 01 May 2007 18:24:28 +0000

I’ve come to the realization that I’m just not one of those moms. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with those moms, I’m just not one of them. I’ve tried, and tried, and tried, but to no avail I just don’t cut it. You’re probably wondering what kind of mom I’m talking about. You’re also probably wondering if you are one of those moms. Well, I’ll explain a little further what made me come to the realization of my standing in the complex levels of motherhood.

Every year I attempt to make a birthday cake for one of my children’s birthdays. It started with my step-daughter’s 6^th birthday. I made her a Raggedy Ann cake that looked decent, but admittedly a little scary with big Oreo’s for her eyes. The next year I made her a pretty cool Barbie cake with pink and chocolate icing. Move ahead to my oldest son’s 1^st birthday and adorable bug cake and matching cupcakes. And that’s where I should have taken my little successes and stopped on a high and I’m not talking about Sanjaya’s mom’s high. Instead, I ventured into the art of cake making a little further and hit rock bottom. Some call that realization.

It started with my step-daughter’s tropical cake that was beyond recognition. I had to throw it away. Then came the Buzz Lightyear cake that everyone was afraid to eat, but too afraid to tell me. And finally this year, my final attempt, was the race car cake. It looked so simple on the Web site and even the mom comments talked about how easy it was to make. Well it’s not that easy when you’re not one of those moms. Those moms that seem to know what to make for dinner, doesn’t stress on what to buy at the grocery store, can take three kids under the age of five to the Children’s Museum by herself, and of course can make a themed birthday cake.

I salute all of those moms. And I now salute and understand all of the other moms picking out Spiderman cakes at Target. I will now happily join you and cough up the $10-$15 it costs per cake to join your level. Please forgive me for any past judgment that I might have silently held towards you. I’ve realized that it’s okay if you don’t or simply can’t do it all. I apologize to anyone that has had to endure any of my creations in order for me to get to this Oprah light bulb moment.

Who is Peter Frampton?

Joey — Mon, 16 Apr 2007 01:43:18 +0000

Okay, so my family and I attended a Dora birthday party for an adorable two-year-old last weekend. The little girl is the daughter of one of my husband’s friends, who is a few years younger than my husband is. I should also mention that my husband is a few years younger than I am. So, to do the math, that makes the Dora birthday girl’s parents approximately 7-8 years younger than me (give or take a year or two, more than likely give). Why is this age thing important? Well, I’m getting to that.

It’s only reasonable to think that usually you have friends that are close to your age. Well, this couple does have quite a few friends that are around their age, who are all great people. I started talking to a couple who were expecting their first child, that day. Yes, I said that day. This girl looked, acted, and felt the way I wanted to when I was pregnant with both of my boys. She looked cute in her maternity clothes, her face was glowing with excitement, and she didn’t have to prop up her feet. She gave me hope that if I decide to give birth to a third child, I could look and feel like her. Anyway, back to the story. Her husband was commenting on my older son’s curly hair. He said that if we grew it out we could hide a comb in there, etc… He joked about all of the same things that we joke about with his crazy curly hair. Now here is the part where I became aware of my age. I told him and his wife that my son’s hair has gotten pretty long and crazy at times, almost Peter Frampton like.

Can you hear the silence?

That one instance of blank looks reminded me that I was in my mid-thirties and I knew who Peter Frampton was, but they did not. I became aware that their parents probably weren’t blasting ‘Frampton Comes Alive!’ on the stereo in the mid-70’s. But if they were, they wouldn’t have been able to hear it anyway. It’s hard to hear when you haven’t even been born yet.

But, if you do remember his talking guitar in hits such as “Do You Feel Like We Do?” and “Show Me the Way”, you’ll understand why age did matter… just for an instance.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Frampton
http://www.frampton.com/flash.html