Milestones

My Oxford American Dictionary defines a milestone as:
1. a stone set up beside a road to show the distance in miles to a given place
2. a significant event or stage in life or history

My life as a mom is filled with milestones of both kinds. Using MapQuest I can get the exact mileage from my home to the pediatrician's office, but it's better measured by time it takes to actually drive there once your sick child is strapped into the car seat with an appropriate comfort toy, pacifier, dose of Tylenol, and sometimes a DVD cranked up for viewing. A distance could also be measured by the amount of stress and anxiety the length of the trip might produce in relation to timing it to coincide with a toddler's nap time. This measurement means more to me than actual miles to my destination.

The other kinds of milestones are significant in the life and history of my child as she grows and develops. Early on I couldn't wait for her to sleep through the night. That milestone couldn't come fast enough. Other milestones have included: standing, crawling, walking and now climbing everything in sight; drinking formula every 3 hours to eating baby food and now getting her to eat anything at a given meal; sleeping in her pack-n-play's bassinette, to her crib, and now to her toddler bed; and cooing, crying, babbling, sounding out a word or two to full blown phrases and declaratory sentences often given in an imperious tone then sweetly adding please when prompted.

As a first-time mom I have often found myself voraciously reading parenting books and magazines to see when these milestones "should" occur, asking experienced moms when their children reached them, and praying my child was reaching each one "on time". However, two years into this parenting thing, I've finally come to grips with two facts: each child is unique and reaches a given milestone when he/she is ready and able and that I shouldn't wish away the time it takes for each one to occur because as they are reached my responsibilities change and often increase. For example, when she was not walking yet, I longed for that time so I wouldn't have to carry her around so much. Once she began walking, I had to step up my vigilance and child proof the house.

Now I'm trying to simply enjoy each milestone as it happens and journaling it as her unique history.

Payback is a ***** or Can you buy an extra set of balls for that?

Before becoming a motley mom, I delighted in purchasing the noisiest toys around whenever family or friends had small children, knowing the kids would love them and not caring if it drove the parents crazy or not --- after all, the gift was for the child not their parents. Payback time has arrived. Nearly every toy our toddler now has makes some type of noise, which delights her and at times annoys us, her parents.

A new toy arrived recently (thanks to a high school girlfriend who has 4 children I have blessed with toys in the past), a ball popper that allows the child to push a giant red button that turns on a fan motor that blows just enough air to pop the balls out and have them fall back in down a spiral incline to start the process again. Naturally said toy has eight tunes it plays as well.

We discovered that not only does our toddler love this game, but our slightly mood, totally spoiled cocker spaniel loves it too. The balls fly out of the toy, and he gladly retrieves them. In fact, he is like Pavlov's dog --- he knows the sound of this toy so well he goes running to it when it goes off. The balls fit snugly in his mouth, making it fun to pry them out as he does not give them up most of the time, and are a hollow plastic that if he has them long enough he can crush them.

They popper came with five balls originally and the dog destroyed two. In telling the gift giver about the dilemma with the dog coveting the balls, she suggested seeing if an extra set of balls could be purchased for the toy. Sure enough, I phoned Hasbro/Playschool and requested the extra set of balls. For $4, including shipping and handling, we now have two extra sets so that the toy's use will last at least until the balls run out.

I have to imagine the gentleman's face as I called and made this request by phone. He seemed non-plussed about it, but I could feel my face tinging pink as I asked to purchase the additional balls, explaining that the dog had eaten them (sounds like the oldest excuse in the book, doesn't it?).

I am Mullet Mom

Here goes nothing -- my first foray into the world of blogging. My own blog moniker is now Mullet Mom, based on the fact that I am a proud product of the 1980s (the decade of conspicuous consumption) from my once mullet cut hair to my love for 80s music, fashion, and fads. They obviously created the VH1 shows "I Love the 80s" for mullet moms like me.

As a motley mullet mom, I am surrounded by other mothers of preschoolers in our local "clique" that were barely out of the diaper stage themselves when I was dying my hair to look like John Taylor of Duran Duran (and ended up with a skunk stripe) and not so secretly lusting over Adam Ant (I can hear you laughing aloud "young-uns" as my secret is now out). Those days will be a constant source of amusement for my own toddler once she hits her teen years I feel sure. Like my teenaged niece and nephew now I will have to show her what a vinyl record was (yes, I have a huge collection and a turntable to play them on) and what a cassette tape was as by the time my daughter is a teen those will probably be obsolete as well.

I'll also have to sheepishly admit to having attended a number of rock concerts in venues before indoor smoking was banned and how you could get a contact high from the various types of smoke filling the air. That is one thing I don't miss now when I attend the reunion tours of the band I loved as a teen; instead, now that they are largely held in sporting arenas, we have folks sitting down (no standing or dancing allowed it seems) who make frequent trips to buy beer throughout the shows, forcing everyone near them to re-situate themselves as they climb across you to get back to their seats.

But while I may not share similar trips down memory lane with the other motley moms on this blog, I do share a faith in and love for Christ as well as the joy of friendship we share as we learn to parent our preschool children. I was wisely advised by Donna that age is not as relevant as the stage of life you are in. She was so right!!! We share this life stage, and I am proud to be a part of this motley crew.