Tales from the Crib

It’s been one week and I’m proud that I’ve adhered to my new fitness routine, and as minimal as it is — it’s better than nothing.

18-month-old Anika has her own ideas of how I should spend my time. And “Exercise for Mom” is not on her agenda.

But on Sunday afternoon, Anika was completely entranced by a puzzle, so I took advantage of the opportunity and did some sit-ups.

I did ten reps before noticing the potential situation developing in my kitchen. Anika opened the refrigerator and in her hands was a bottle of hot sauce with a flaming skull on it. She ran to me, jumped on my stomach and touched the bottle to my cheek.

I splashed water on my burning skin and grabbed the bottle away from her. But before I was able to get the bottle, she had opened it up and spilled it all over the kitchen floor.

After I wiped up the spill in record time, I saw it — a huge fingerful of hot sauce heading directly into her mouth. I tried to stop it, but she was too quick.

I waited for the reaction.

No tears, no crying, but instant puking all over my shirt and her dress. Cough, cough repeat. Cough, cough, repeat.

I tried to get her to drink milk, knowing it could tame the burn. I cut up a banana, but Anika didn’t want anything near her mouth.

I didn’t know whether to call the ER or Poison Control, but I was not looking forward to explaining this to anyone. I was ready to dial Poison Control when it stopped. She cuddled up next to me and we sat there for a half hour.

Eventually, she got her energy back and returned to her favorite puzzle.

I sat right next to her and played with the puzzle, too. I did not go back to sit-ups or any other exercise promise I made to myself for the day. I did not pass go, I did not collect $200.

By dinner, the trauma wore off and Anika was back to her hearty appetite.  Me? Well, I'm still trying to recover.

We all know what those days are like, so in case you missed my last post, read below for some contest info …

If you ever have those days when you feel your life has turned upside down, know you are not alone. In this month’s metroparent, there are two pages that have been turned completely upside down. Send us a picture of you or your kids reading metroparent upside down and I’ll send a few winners some tickets to Betty Brinn's Children Museum! Send your pics to me at rchristman@metroparentmagazine.com. 

Yesterday, I didn’t need the calendar to tell me it was a Monday. I could tell the moment I woke up, got out of bed and put water in the wrong compartment of the coffee pot. I didn’t realize it until it started pouring out everywhere.

I know, it’s a clear sign I should start getting more sleep. But instead I drank an extra cup of coffee.

When it was time for us to leave the house, Anika ran to the door screaming with her hat, sweater and jacket, socks and shoes. What was missing? A diaper and pants.

A full-on tantrum ensued at the mere suggestion of putting on pants and a diaper. Every part of her little body participated in the veto of pants and diapers. I like to choose my battles, and I choose very few, but diapering my 18-month-old is one thing I’m going to stick to.

A few tantrums later, we eventually made it outside, clothed kids and all. As I tried to lift Anika into the car, she gave me The Look – a look I know I’ll see again when she’s a teenager with a curfew. But instead of staying out all night, all Anika wanted to do was climb into her carseat herself. Despite our impending lateness, I caved and let her do it (and was surprised at what a good job she did).

While she tried to buckle herself in, I began the task of cleaning the snow off the car. What I thought was fluffy snow was a solid mass of ice that had formed into my car’s windshield. My scraper broke while I tried to remove the ice mass, but I was still able to use it – until it broke again and was as useful as a toothbrush in removing the ice mass.

I turned on my windshield wipers to remove the remainder of the ice/snow/iceberg. They broke, too!

Expecting that to be the worst of the morning, as I parked at the daycare, another mom informed me my tire was almost flat. I ran to the gas station to fill up the tire with air, hoping it would last until I got home from work.

It was an eventful Monday morning and I was thankful it didn’t get any worse as the day went on.

So if you ever have those days when you feel your life has turned upside down, know you are not alone. In this month’s metroparent, there are two pages that have been turned completely upside down. Send us a picture of you or your kids reading metroparent upside down and I’ll send a few winners some tickets to Betty Brinn's Children Museum! Send your pics to me at rchristman@metroparentmagazine.com.

We’ve only had one day of great warm weather this year. It was refreshing – and a sign that spring really is almost here!

All the kids on our block reunited with their scooters and bikes and began going up and down the block, corner to corner, yelling gleefully with each other.

My favorite things in spring and summer are outdoor playdates and cookouts in our yard. I started the first step in making our summer kid-friendly yard: patching up the holes our German Shepherd, Ruby, dug this winter while we weren’t looking.

But this week we are looking at a snow forecast. As much as I’m not ready to revert back to snow, wind or temperatures below 50, I am slightly relieved that it is going to stay cold for a few more days.

Why? Well, to be completely honest, I have some work I’ve been postponing.

The first warm day of the year is the day we learn what foods the kids have dropped on the car floor over the last few months. Foods that were once fresh, then frozen are now thawed, rotten and smelly. Yep, the first warm weather day brought about not only a rise in spirits, but also a smell in my car that I could not identify.

I do try to keep an eye on the food coming and going in the car, but sometimes I’m sad to admit it’s just not possible. I’m even sadder to say I haven’t made the time to clean out the car, although I’ve taken the winter blankets inside and washing the blanket underneath the carseat. I’ve been slowly getting rid of the garbage that had accumulated on the car interior and bought some upholstery cleaner.

So, the cold weather has bought me some time to investigate while the smell doesn’t get any worse. I’m ready to fit in the annual cleaning of the car (AKA finding the food). I am determined, this weekend, to find the source of the offensive smell in the car — before it warms up again.
 

Like most households with kids, our mornings are rushed disasters. We have to get Mia to school (7:30), Anika to daycare (8) and I pray to get to work on time (8:30).

It might sound easy if you don't have to battle the 20-minute time warp between our front door and the car.

Mia has the hardest time getting moving in the morning. Trying to instill her sense of independence, we’ve made her responsible for her own morning routine by getting ready the night before.

Last night, like every night, Mia and I decided on a school uniform together, then she made sure her hairbrush and toothbrush were in the proper places. (Don’t ask me how you can lose a toothbrush, because neither Mia nor I can answer that question, but it happens often enough.) After that, we accounted for everything she’ll need to get out the door: shoes, backpack and jacket.

By morning, the hairbrush was misplaced and one shoe went missing. Mia said someone stole them. The clock was ticking, Anika was pulling off her clothes, and I started to get tense and began my usual rant about lateness.
 
Mia took something out of her backpack and said, “I just want you to look at something.”

I sharply replied, ”I’ll be glad to look at it tonight. Right now, we have to find your shoe and get to school!”

“Pleeeease, just look at it,” she whined.

I reluctantly looked at the worksheet that read, “Today I wish …”

Mia drew a bunch of kids holding hands and filled in the sentence to read, “Today I wish … I could love everybody in the world.”

I paused. I’m yelling at a kid who can’t find her shoe on most days, but has the biggest heart. I paused, put down my purse and gave her a hug.

We were late to school, daycare and work that morning, but as we slowly walked to school, we talked about all the ways we could try to love everybody in the world.

\People don’t know what to say when someone has a miscarriage because there are no real words to say. While we were fortunate to have supportive people all around us after my miscarriage, what people don’t talk about is what happens next.

Although I took some time off work, allowed myself to experience the grief and pain of the loss, I still couldn’t keep myself together. In fact, I’m a complete mess — physically, emotionally and hormonally. Apparently, this is more common than I knew.

I cried all the time, and not a teary kind of cry, but constant crying fits that are usually accompanied with some hyperventilating or throwing up. After two weeks of physical pain, emotional meltdowns and the general feeling that my body was working against me, I went to my doctor.

I was pretty certain there was nothing I could do medically speaking – no medications because I’m still nursing my daughter a little. I just wanted my doctor to be aware of the situation.

I told her that I was NOT myself. I couldn’t describe it, leaving me more frustrated. I felt out of control, as if there was an erratic, emotional stranger inhabiting my body. 

I was exhausted, agitated, depressed and anxious. I would go to sleep with the girls at 8 p.m., but wake up at midnight and stay up through the next day. Once, after Nate and I had a minor disagreement, I threw dishes around the kitchen.(Luckily for us, we have already replaced our “nice” dishes with plastic ones until the kids get older.)

While I know part of me will never be the same, I felt I should be able to leave the house without getting sick, that I should be able to slowly get back to my normal life. Sometimes I thought I was doing OK, most of the time I knew I wasn’t.

Well, it turns out my doctor had plenty of advice, reassuring me how common this is. It made sense: the combination of first trimester hormones and exhaustion come to a screeching halt, and then add in the postpartum hormones. It’s just not the natural progression of things. Along with the roller coaster of hormones, my doctor said I had some signs of postpartum depression along with the natural grieving process. She opted against treating the depression for now, but started me on a heavy diet of vitamins, some diet observances and a mild medication.

In under a week, I’m seeing the differences. I’m sleeping soundly, but not so deeply that I snore through crying children or a barking dog. I’m rested, maybe for the first time in years. The physical pain finally stopped and the whirlwind inside of me has started to calm down.

It would be a lot easier if the grieving process had a set time frame. But it doesn’t, so I’m thankful I listened to my body, talked with my doctor and took action that didn’t involve heavily medicating myself.

And I’m finally getting better every day.
 

After being in daycare for six months, my daughter has began — again — screaming and clinging to me when I leave. Really, it’s almost unbearable.

This is the girl who still immediately runs up to knock on the daycare door, giggles as we arrive and plays and dances all day with her friends and cries a little when we leave. We had just gotten into a great routine.

But something has changed. I’m not ashamed to admit that last week was the very first day I cried the whole way to work. I just felt something was wrong if she was reacting that strongly to my departure. Maybe she was sick and needed a little extra love and time with her mom!

Then our daycare director told me it was common for toddlers to go through a second stage of separation anxiety.

What?? That is completely not fair. We just got over round one of separation anxiety (hers and mine), and drop-offs just started going smoothly. Things were going so well that Nate and I had my mom babysit while we had our first child-free dinner since Anika’s birth 17 months ago.

And now it’s back? Separation anxiety again? I better start to toughen up because this stage is news to me. I’ve never heard of a second round of separation anxiety, but now I hear it’s normal.

Even if it’s normal, it’s still not fair.  Now I'm the one who wants to scream and stomp her feet each morning!

 

At my step-daughter's birthday party, she received the exciting gift of not one, but two Webkinz. Now, until just a few months ago, I had no idea what a Webkinz even was and had no idea of the Webkinz world we would be entering. So, when seeing TWO Webkinz, my step-daughter immediately cuddled a Webkinz fish and then said, “I want to give one to my cousin!” Well, her cousin of the same age was thrilled and exclaimed, “I love this frog already!” All were happy and I was filled with motherly pride at the children’s behavior.

I should have treasured that feeling while it lasted. As bedtime and the end of the party approached, my step-daughter decided that she wanted the frog back because it was part of her present (true enough). However, we talked about how when you give a gift, you can’t it back. She understood, but then said if she were in her cousin’s shoes, she would be sad and would want to give the Webkinz back. However, she was not wearing those shoes.

With tears all around, I gave the frog back to my step-daughter with a cross-my-heart promise to go to the store and buy my nephew a Webkinz frog in the morning. Problem solved.

Except the store did not have any frogs … so, I told my nephew I would order the frog online. But, the thought of waiting days for a package was an abstract concept for a 5-year-old. So, I said I would still order the frog online AND buy him a Webkinz that day. This sent my step-daughter into a hysterical crying fit. She also wanted a Webkinz that day in addition to the two she had already received.

I caved. $18.50 later, everyone was happy and peace filled the 5-year-old world.

So, maybe I made all the wrong decisions: I gave in at the store, I gave the gifted Webkinz back to my step-daughter. But, I am still proud as a parent that her initial, immediate response was to share and be generous. 

Here's the scene right before the holidays: The kids were terribly sick, Nate and I also picked up the worst flu in the history of flus, nobody had slept in days, papers were piling up on my desk and EVERYONE was beyond cranky.

We trekked to the doctor’s office and left with numerous prescriptions for all and headed to the pharmacy. There our agonizing 20-minute wait
began.

As we waited, we walked through the aisles to pick up a few small items in hopes of brightening our spirits. The kids picked fruit snacks and stickers and I opted for several products boasting promises to cover the black circles under my eyes.

We approached the checkout counter with $100 of prescriptions and treats, and the woman behind the counter said she had a coupon for my cosmetics. I told her I had already read the store flyer and, sadly, there was no coupon. Then, she pulled out a small box of coupons, organized and labeled, and explained they are from the Sunday paper. Huh? She continued to say that she likes to cut coupons and share them, sort of like a hobby.

I am used to paying more for convenience. I have honestly spent more than five dollars for a gallon of milk at a gas station just because I did not have time to make run one more errand. And here is a woman who cuts coupons from the paper for other people as a hobby?

That coupon saved me two bucks on my total bill. This savings may not sound like a big deal in most people’s world. However, that day at that moment, it was like winning the lottery. We left the pharmacy with medications, fruit snacks, stickers and cover-up products in hand. But thanks to the random kindness of this woman, we left with more than that. We left with a belief that we WOULD heal, we WOULD be healthy again, we WOULD sleep through the night once more, and my complexion WOULD return to the normal .

This inspiration made me promise to myself that, in 2009, no matter how small the deed, I would “pay it forward”— hopefully to a mom with puffy eyes and a few sick kids behind her.
 

Our family took 3 days to adjust to daylight savings time. I was hoping it would be longer.

I thought casual smooth mornings were a myth. For two days I knew what it felt like to get up and watch a little of the news before crawling out of bed. I knew what it felt like to get kids to daycare/school on time and without tantrums.

Monday was great. Everyone was up early, made it to daycare/school on time and in a relaxed fashion. The girls and I read a book before we left. Everyone was dressed and ready to go —minutes before we had to leave. After dropping everyone off, I had time to stop at my favorite drive-thru coffee shop for a coffee. 70 degree weather aside, the barista and I decided it was the best Monday ever in the history of Mondays.

On Tuesday, I felt I could sustain this new system. Nate and I had easily been up at 5:30 a.m. for two whole days, before the alarms ring. We watch a little of the morning news, take a minute to talk to each other other before the kids wake up. Yes, it has been a relaxed two days. I'm ready to commit to this new schedule. 

Today is Wednesday. And things went back to normal. Anika (13 months) went sleep early and woke up at her classic hour of 1 a.m., insistent that we play peek-a-boo for approximately 60 minutes. Attempting to sleep in as the sun came up, I intended to snooze the alarm, but not before Mia (4 1/2) woke up early and crawled in bed with us and reminded us it was "morningtime."

Then we were all awake, tired and cranky and struggling to start the day. Time to leave rolled around and it was tantrum city as Mia could not find the shoes she wanted to wear. What happened to our two relaxed mornings? We were all late today.

Perhaps with a little determination I can achieve them again one day. Then again, maybe I'll just dream about it as I snooze the alarm one more time.  

 

If you are enjoying the time change and find yourself with some extra time on your hands, take advantage of it and do a little shopping:

 
Check out Fred's new line of fab fall wear at www.fredboutique.com.

Special to MilwaukeMoms blog readers: Mention code "metro08" for 20% savings on regular priced items at Fred (524 N. Water) from now until December 31, 2008 on www.fredboutique.com (this code can also be mentioned in store).

Today I was on the Morning Blend talking about what to do when you don't like your child's teacher. I never knew how relevant a topic this was  until
everyone started telling me their stories about their kid's teachers.

It makes sense. We all know what it's like. I will never forget how my 5th grade teacher treated me unfairly. Turns out my mom felt that way too, but I never knew. That's one of our tips: do not share your negative opinions with your child. Not only do kids repeat everything, but it could unintentionally encourage bad behavior.

To see the whole segment, go to www.themorningblend.com. If you want more tips from the October article, read metroparent online at MilwaukeeMoms.com or in print  at a nearby newsstand and check out the Dear Teacher Q/A column.

I'm still not used to seeing myself on TV, but the kids think I'm a true TV star. After watching the segment, I find it weird to hear my own voice, which sounds nothing like I think it does. When I was in college, people often told me I had a good soothing radio voice, so it must not be all that bad.

But one thing I didn't have to worry about was my clothes. That's the hardest part about going on TV - deciding what to wear.

To get ready for the segment, aside from talking to many parents and educators, I was styled by Fred Boutique (524 N. Water St.). What a treat that was! It's easy to fall into a clothing rut, especially as I chase after children! Talk about feeling like a TV star - the stylist was wonderful, gave me great style tips and I picked out a fabulous dress to wear.

 It got me thinking about clothes, fashion, motherhood .... It's easy for me to live in my favorite jeans and black Ramones t-shirt, but whenever we leave the house I feel like everything I have is full of baby food stains or muddy dog pawprints. When I go shopping, I rarely look outside of the toddler sections. Well, no more of that! As much as I love buying toddler girl clothes, I'm looking forward to revamping my own closet!

Check out Fred's new line of fab fall wear at www.fredboutique.com.

 

Special to MilwaukeMoms blog readers: Mention code metro08 for 20% savings on regular priced items at Fred from now until December 31, 2008 on www.fredboutique.com (this code can also be mentioned in store).

When I came in to work today, I learned that I had an adventure yesterday. Or an "almost adventure."

 In the afternoon, I went shopping for an upcoming photo shoot with our creative director, Lori.We perused the thrift store racks and found perfect clothes with even more perfect accesories. I had an idea in mind for a hat, but didn't find one. As we were checking out, this great hat appeared out of nowhere! It was fate. We were feeling pretty lucky and we checked out and sparked more ideas back and forth for upcoming metroparent covers.

 As we left the building, got into the car, there was a backup of traffic. We couldn't get through. We waited. And waited. We saw a handful of policemen standing around and the road was being blocked off, but we didn't see any reason for it. "All this for a hit and run," I thought.

 Turns out someone donated a box of items to the store, including a live grenade and smoke canister. And the police everywhere? Yep, that was the bomb squad, fire department and police officers.I read online that the police detonated the grenade in a field without incident.

 WOW!!!! All the potential disasters ran through my head and today I'm feeling pretty lucky that none of them came to fruition. I came home, gave Nate and Anika big kisses, "just because." You really never know what's in store each day, so it's a damn good reminder to make the most of every day and not get held up by the little things that make us stress out and worry .

Next time I'm held up in traffic, instead of cursing under my breath, I'll take the extra minute to count my blessings!

 In my last blog, I wrote that the first people to e-mail me could win the "Barbie and the Diamond Castle" DVD.

Maybe you thought online giveaways would go too quickly. Maybe you're not feeling all that lucky. Maybe you thought you missed you're chance—but you didn't! So I just wanted to break the ice and say: You still have your chance! It's easy: E-mail me and I will actually send you a DVD!

In fact, in addition to my regular blog, I'll be tacking on some occasional giveaway opportunities. So keep reading. Hopefully you are doing that already and I will thank you for doing so with more giveaways.

I'll keep it simple. October is just around the corner and one of my favorite Autumn activities is pumpkin-carving. So the first people to e-mail me at rchristman@metroparentmagazine.com will receive either the Barbie and the Diamond Castle DVD or the Casket Case Pumpkin Carving Kit.  Everything you need to carve a super scary pumpkin is included in this case: 7 patterns, 2 saws, 1 poker, 1 scoop scraper. Just let me know which you'd prefer.

Looking forward to hearing from you!

 Update: Thanks to everyone who emailed me, but the DVDs and carving kits have all been sent out. Keep reading for upcoming giveaways!

 

My daughter Anika turned one this week. I go back and forth feeling like she just came home from the hospital yesterday, or that we've had her forever.

I've been nostalgic and sentimental; it's really been a great year. Not an easy year, but a great one.  Every single day she surprises me with her discoveries, inspires me with her enthusiasm and warms my heart with her joyfulness.

All week I've found my self saying things like ... "One year ago today, I told work I'd be right back after my doctor's appointment."

Well, that was the day my doctor's assistant chased after me when I left the office, saying the doctor needed to see me right away.  I was having some complications and they decided it was time to induce. I was hoping to grab a sandwich on the way back to the office. Actually, I figured since we were inducing I could go back to the office, go home pack a bag and Nate and I could get ready to have a baby in the morning. But they said I had to go right to Labor & Delivery, do not eat a thing, do not pass go, do not collect $200.

That was how it all started.

Speaking of beginnings ... I  need some help cleaning of my desk, so the first  20 people to e-mail me at rchristman@metroparentmagazine.com will get a free DVD copy of "Barbie and The Diamond Castle."
 

Today was Mia's first day of school in all-day K4.

I didn't have many expectations for the day, but I expected the morning to be rough, as everyone was supposed to get up earlier than usual. Then I pictured Nate and I walking Mia (4) and Anika (11 months) to school, meeting the teacher, saying hello and introducing ourselves. Then I'd leave to bring Anika to daycare and get myself to work—on time.

Every experienced parent of a school-age child is probably giggling at my novice right now.

After a hurried morning, we took the classic "first day" pictures and ended up driving to school (3 blocks) because we were running so late. I briefly met teacher, but there was little time for hellos as she shuffled 25 4-year-olds and their parents into the room, gave us a folder of paperwork and snapped our pictures for Mia's file.

Before I left for work with a baby in desperate need of a diaper change on the go, I gave the teacher our paperwork and a "good luck" as she calmly took control of the madhouse that was forming. I've always had tremendous respect for all educators out there but just realized today what a true fiasco the first day of school can be. I chuckled at myself for assuming there would be ample time for introduction and long chat. There will be time for that in the near future, I'm sure.

Right now, I'll just concern myself with getting everyone to daycare, school and work on time.

As I walked away from my screaming daughter at daycare today, one of the other moms looked at me and said, "You're so lucky, my son runs away when I come to pick him up at the end of the day."

The last two days have been the worst yet—for me. The screaming unwilling goodbye, the knowledge that Anika is in teething pain and just wants to cuddle with her mom.

The mornings seem rough for Anika, too, in the beginning. But after she calms down, she'll find some fun toys and play with her new friends. I know she's in great hands and the director tells me every day that she is doing better every day. (And I believe her.)

In fact, she said yesterday was "super!" Her first super day started off with a screaming goodbye, too, so I try not to let worry consume me. I left quickly, gave Anika a kiss and an "I love you" and calmly walked out. Then I ran to the car and sped off.

It's a rough way to start your day. As miserable as it is for me, it's nice to think that other moms call it lucky. Maybe they miss the Separation Anxiety Stage. I can't imagine it, but I maybe I will too. 

We made it! All of us (mainly me) survived our first week of day care.

Anika is adjusting well and I’m getting into the swing of our new schedules. My daughter amazes me every day with her new feats and how she's beginning to decipher the world. But what amazes me most of all is the fact that she seems to need no sleep.

As far as day care goes, I understand her non-sleeping tendency. I know how she is in groups of kids: When we visit my nephews she doesn’t nap, either. She doesn’t want to miss any potential excitement.

Reason would have it that a non-sleeping baby in the afternoon would be a sleeping baby at night. Unfortunately, this is not the case.

After 5 days in day care, Anika has barely napped and she has gone to bed late and woke up early … for 5 days in a row. Did I say 5 days? If not, I’d like to mention it’s been 5 days for our non-sleeping baby.

I count my lucky stars she isn’t fussy when she wakes up in the middle of the night. She giggles and starts crawling around, wide-eyed and ready to play!

Last night was the longest night of sleep yet — 4 hours.

Although she’s happy overall, I can tell from the slight shift in her demeanor that she’s nearing the end of her sleep protest. She can’t hold on much longer … or can she?

Maybe she will finally tire out this weekend—another family vacation waterpark weekend. Hopefully we can all squeeze in a nap before we squeeze in the car!

Not much rattles me these days, but I'm a ball of nervous irrational energy today.

It’s my daughter’s first day of day care. I stayed home with Anika for 6 weeks, then went back to work part-time, then full-time. I worked days and Nate worked nights, so we have been fortunate that she was always with a parent.

Realistically, I have little to complain about. We are fortunate to have a long relationship with a trusted day care professional, who was able to fit Anika into her great environment. We are fortunate that Anika got to spend the days bonding with her father for her first year. I’m excited for Anika to meet, socialize and play with other children. I’m happy she is in a small environment where she will get a lot of individual attention.

But I still have that feeling in my stomach. Not a gut feeling that something is wrong, just a feeling that is … mom nerves, I guess. I know in my gut that Anika will do great in a day care environment. She loves other children and of course, loves to play. We spent a little time at the center to get her prepared. When we left together, she fussed!
 

This morning as we walked up the steps, she giggled. And she didn’t cry when I left, (which is a completely new phase in the last few weeks).

What am I nervous about? I can’t put a finger on it. Why can’t I put a finger on it? Because there is no logical reason to be nervous. (Mothers don’t have to be logical when it comes to their children, right?)

This afternoon I called the day care center, just to make sure that Anika wasn’t in the midst of a crying fit, missing her parents or unhappy in an unknown place with new people. Before I heard a hello, I heard Anika’s giggles in the background.

Yep, she is fine, just like I knew she would be. I didn’t even have to ask.

I called Nate to see if he was as nervous as me. It’s his day off and he went to the Brewers game, alone and without the hassle of a bringing a diaper bag. I should take a lesson from him sometimes.

The mom nerves have yet again got the best of me. I think I may never be comfortable and calm without my daughter in my arms – or at least in direct view. And until that day comes, I will still unreasonably count the minutes until I can pick her up.

I've jumped out of planes numerous times, climbed rocks, slithered through small caves, walked (and danced) on a tightrope and done more tricks on my bicycle than I can count. In my head, I've been planning a scuba diving trip for my next adventure. There are not many things that strike a chord of fear through me.

Until my last experience at the dentist. I've always been diligent about going to the dentist, brushing and flossing. But the last time I went to the dentist (the first time at that dentist), I coud tell something wasn't right. Blood was gushing from my mouth. For three subsequent months after a general cleaning, my teeth constantly ached and I could only eat soft food.

I had been to the dentist twice a year for my entire life and I couldn't believe it, but one bad experience left me fearful. (What will my mother say if she reads this?)

Six months after the ordeal, we discovered I was pregnant and I stopped the new dentist search in favor of searches in baby registries and baby name books.

As with many pregnant women, my teeth and gums became sensitive. I just couldn't muster up the time and courage to make another dental appointment. With everything else going on in my body, I thought more tooth pain might just send me over the edge. I planned to go right after the baby was born.

My daughter is now 10 months old and, after being on my to-do list for a year, I finally made an appointment. I tried to be rational. I asked myself how I could expect my children to not fear the dentist when I couldn't go myself. I had to be the adult example. I reminded myself if I could birth a child with minimal medication, I can get my teeth cleaned. Now that I think about it, I was less nervous for childbirth.

As the hygenist cleaned my teeth, there were a few squirmy moments and a little blood, but all in all it wasn't that bad. I'm also glad to say I've finally conquered my embarrassing, irrational fear!

I am not usually shocked by people's behavior, but every once in a while, I still find myself speechless. This was the case at our recent excursion to the July 4th fireworks.

We had a nice lakefront spot with chairs and blankets for me, 10-month-old Anika, my sister and her kids (ages 7 and 4). Our grassy spot was situated near an abrupt edge with Lake Michigan beneath it. We all sat close together and ate popcorn while we waited for the main event. Overall, it was a safe area or we never would have sat there.

As children do, my 4-year-old nephew started jumping around and was getting naturally closer to the edge. My sister and I were sitting right there and she held his arm, told him not to roughhouse by the edge and to, instead, play by our blanketed area.

Instantly, an older man sitting next to us leaned forward and sternly said: "He's playing a foot from the water. You need to be a better parent to that boy."

His tone was extremely snotty, like that of a child's. It amazes me what people will say to one another, especially about a subject as sensitive as parenting skills. I can't help but wonder, what's the point of saying something with such judgement? To argue with a stranger? To make a scene at a family event? It certainly wasn't to make friendly conversation or lend a helping hand. Had no one ever told him "if you can't say anything nice ...."? Or how about putting the Golden Rule into play?

There was no imminent danger. My nephew was never in harm's way and any potential danger was squashed by my sister before it ever became an issue. She reacted like a good parent.

I like to imagine that people think a little before they speak. For being so concerned about children, this man certainly wasn't concerned about the example he was setting for three children listening to his every word: That's it's okay to talk rudely to other people.

I guess it's up to the good parents to teach children to treat people better than that.

As with every July 3rd, there will be fireworks tonight.

And as with many summer activities this year, I felt I had to pass. It just seemed to risky with a 9-month-old.

Even though Nate works on the lakefront and offered to reserve a space for me and our daughter Anika, I still think it's a lot of effort that might not work in our favor. True, it would be nice for us to spend some family time together, even though he will be busy working. But since we work opposite shifts, there is a comfort when the family is together in a close physical proximity to one another.

But it's late and it will be crowded at the lakefront. It will take effort to beat the crowd, park, find a place to sit ... and if all that trouble leads to an overtired cranky baby who finds the fireworks too loud, I'll be the cranky one.

This morning I told Nate my concerns that our daughter Anika would not enjoy the fireworks and I won't be upset to miss them this year. We'll do it next year. Case closed, so I thought.

While I was at work, Nate bypassed my good judgement and called my sister, invited them to his lakefront spot. My sister and her two children, ages 4 and 7, each responded with an enthusiastic "woop, woop!"

Nate clearly knows my weak spots - and it's for my nephews' woop woops. My sister and I have changed many a plan, stayed later at a festival, stayed extra days on a vacation due to the woop, woop. I'm sure Anika will someday learn the secret of the woop woop from her cousins.

Sure, call us suckers. It would be true, but it always ends with more fun, so you can't blame us. We're suckers for family fun. So now I am faced with two woop woops and everyone is excited. How can I say no to enthusiasm?

When I get home, I'm going to encourage Anika to take a very long nap, pack her up for her first Independence Day celebration and cross my fingers. May the woop woops be with us -- all night!