Gadget Girl

You know who you are. You are the one that brought your child to a birthday party knowing he was running a fever. Nope, the medicine you gave him to reduce his fever didn't do the trick, now everyone he was around is sick. This could have been me just a few days ago.

It was the weekend for my daughter's birthday party and she was going to have several of the kids sleepover that night and camp out in the backyard. She ended up getting strep earlier in the week and we were afraid we were going to have to cancel her party. We took her to the doctor and got her on antibiotics. The doc said she would not be contagious after 24 hours of being fever free and being on the medicine. So, by the weekend, she was fine. But, I did what every parent would — or should — do, I let everyone that was invited know what was going on.

This made the party goers list shorten by half as many of the parents didn't want to risk their child getting sick. I completely understood. Besides, I did let you know and I knew what was going to happen. Cancellations. That's just how it goes, though. You have to take precautions, right?

Well, the night before the party, our son started to run a fever. So, Saturday morning, I got him an appointment and took him in way before the party was supposed to start. Turns out, he was sick with something else that was contagious. I didn't know what to do. I would have hated to cancel my daughter's party because her little brother was sick. So, my mom — aka Nana — offered to come to the party before everyone started to show up and then when she left, she would take my son with her and let him spend the night. This was AWESOME, because now I didn't have to worry about anyone getting sick with what he got and my daughter could still have her sleepover. We cleaned and disinfected the entire house before everyone arrived.

There were kids that did show, and it made her day so special. We played tons of games, ate ... and later that night, made a little fire to make s'mores and then all of us girls camped out in the tent ... and not one of them got scared! I was sad that my son missed it all, but Nana had fun with him.

We skipped T-ball when my 4-year-old daughter was little and went right to soccer. So excited to join the other parents toting collapsible chairs and water bottles, and to watch our firstborn running in cleats and driving in goals, I was green behind the ears and naive to what sports for kids really meant. I was christened quickly one Saturday walking to the fields. My jaw dropped when I heard a mom shrieking at the top of her lungs, “Run, Emily, runnnnn!!!” I watched Emily trying to beat out a girl quickly coming on and watched her mom spin around in anguish when Emily got beat. The mom pounded her fists down on her thighs. Ouch. I walked along, regarding my sweet little girl ... it was her first team experience with a sport and she just wanted to have fun. I certainly didn’t want it to matter so much that she beat out other girls in the game enough to yell like Emily’s mom ... but then what if Emily was a child totally bent on winning? What if that was the way she was wired? My child did not care about winning (even though her Dad and I did!), so we knew we were going to sit and watch her enjoy herself. Sit, and hope the coach would put her in. Sit and sit and sit and carry and drive and sit some more. But she had fun. Later, as our girl began elementary school and the competitive kids began sorting themselves out from the non-competitive kids during recess, winning began to matter more to her naturally, but it didn’t change how she applied herself to soccer. After a couple more seasons of lackluster showing for her team, her commitment waned. She played basketball for school and again, just loved the social aspect of it all. She played softball in the summer and it was the same. So it wasn’t until she discovered rugby that the animal inside of her was born. Suddenly she was jazzed about a game — and how she played the game — and suddenly she was in charge. You did not have to tell her to get ready for practice, she announced that she was, and by the way, “Hurry up, Mom.” I watched as a competitor was born, watched as she threw that weird rugby ball around in the backyard, at the beach, at the park, during practices, during games. Funny sport, that rugby. Here is my demure and gentle daughter playing a game that is all muscle and brawn. Who would have thunk it? What I learned is that it was never about what we wanted for our daughter, it was about her. We parents can mess up the trajectory of our children’s lives if we get in the way too much. Thankfully, by not pushing her, she found what she wanted on her own. But I’m kind of hoping that she doesn’t take this thing too far. I’ve heard that real rugby players eat nails. And I’m not talking fingers!

I react to the mail the way the citizens do in the Music Man when the Wells Fargo wagon comes to town. I've even been known to sing when a package arrives.

One of my favorite things about this time of year — aside from the impending summer stretch and trips to the beach! — is the influx of theater announcements around town to learn what’s coming next season. It’s always an interesting reveal ... sometimes baffling ... occasionally a mixed bag ... and once in a while, such an exciting, stellar list of shows that I can barely wait for the summer to fly by and new seasons take the stage.

The latter is certainly the case with TPAC’s 2012-13 season! Playing on the fact that Nashville is Music City, local audiences are in for a treat of a season full of nothing but musicals, and some amazing ones are coming. The regular lineup includes Anything Goes (Oct. 23 - 28), Irving Berlin’s White Christmas (Nov. 13 - 18), Catch Me if You Can (Jan. 22 - 27, 2013), Traces (Feb. 19 - 24, 2013), Flashdance (March 19 - 24, 2013) and the long-awaited return of Disney’s The Lion King (May 7 - June 2, 2013). There are also two, short-run, add-on specials, American Idiot (March 5 - 7, 2013) and Rock of Ages (April 19 - 20, 2013).

If that’s not enough to get you excited, wait, there’s more! All Broadway shows start somewhere, and this summer (July 24 - Aug. 19), Nashville will be home to the world premiere of a brand-new musical, The Nutty Professor. Comic legend (and star/co-writer of the 1963 film) Jerry Lewis himself is directing and will be in town for the entire run to tweak, polish and sculpt as needed. With book and lyrics by Rupert Holmes and music by the sensational Marvin Hamlisch, The Nutty Professor is sure to be a memorable experience for families. After all, it’s extremely cool that we get to be the first to see it before it makes it on the Great White Way!

I just returned from my very first visit to Parnassus Books in Green Hills, Nashville's newest bookstore.

I'll definitely be going back soon, too.

Located at 3900 Hillsboro Pike, Parnassus is the bookstore famously launched by one of Nashville's own Ann Patchett, one of my favorite novelists, and her business partner Karen Hayes, who was a Random House sales rep. Patchett and Hayes decided to open their own independent bookstore in part as a response to the dwindling number of places for people to buy books--and to revel in books.

The store opened on Saturday, and from what I hear, it attracted quite a crowd. I didn't make it, so I planned to swing by this morning.

First of all, yes, fellow parents, there is a children's area, and yes, there is a train table. We all miss the glorious train table and children's area at Davis-Kidd, and let's admit it: that's the main reason that most of us used to frequent that particular bookstore. I say that as someone who's a reader, too. The children's area is located at the rear of the store, and the train table (Chuggington, if you must know) is right smack dab in the middle of it. My toddler strained at his stroller straps, trying to launch himself toward the trains.

Secondly, the bookstore is beautiful. It is not large, but it is lovely and warm. The floors and shelves are polished wood, and the people who work there smile at you. I like both qualities in a bookstore. It feels friendly, and I believe that bookstores should feel inviting and welcoming. Also, they have a magazine section, and I'm a magazine junkie.

And finally, the staff are willing to order books for you. They'll talk about books with you, and they'll help you procure the books that you want. This is a key point that I want to get across. They want to sell you books there, and y'all, if you want to keep this glorious little gem of a bookstore in Nashville, we all need to go buy some books there.

In case you don't remember, we just lost all of our Borders stores and Davis-Kidd because bricks-and-mortar stores are losing ground to the Internet and discount stores when it comes to book sales. I'm guilty of it myself. I've picked up a discounted paperback at a warehouse store or ordered $25 worth of books from Amazon (to get the free Super Saver shipping, natch).

I can't promise that I'll never do those things again because the reality is, I probably will. But I can purchase some of my books and book-related gear in person from a real live bookseller. And I plan to do more of that. So I bought a book at Parnassus this morning.

I hope you will, too. This is a great little store, and I hope that it will be around so I can take my children there as they grow up. I want to take them to a place where they can actually look at the books and thumb through the pages, where they can spread several book out before them and decide which one (or ones) they want, where they can discover new authors and new stories.

So if you haven't been by Parnassus yet, think about going on over soon.

I know it is still January but I am beginning to hear that famous song in my head - you know the one about BASEBALL (which I sing loudly and WAY off key)!  I am a Mom to two ENERGETIC boys who both have a love for the game - so in our house, January means it is time to begin thinking about baseball.  Now I know many of you will roll your eyes and say "Ugh, baseball is so boring" but I disagree.  To me there is nothing more exciting than to see the look on my son's face when he makes a catch or makes contact with the ball for a hit.  WE LOVE BASEBALL!

Both of my boys play for the Grassland Baseball League here in Franklin.  I am so thankful to have found an organization that believes in teaching children that playing sports is about more than just competition.  It is about learning the game, being a contributing member of a team, and most of all - HAVING FUN!

SO what are you waiting for?  Registrations are open now.  In the Grassland Baseball League, boys and girls from age 5 - 17 (as of April 30th) are eligible to register but each league has their own age restrictions.  Nashville is fortunate to have many wonderful baseball organizations throughout the city - so find one near you and sign those kids up.  LET'S PLAY BALL!

AREA BASEBALL LEAGUES:

Grassland Baseball League - Franklin, Tn

Crieve Hall Baseball - Nashville, Tn

Donelson Baseball - Hermitage, Tn

Goodlettsville Baseball - Goodlettsville, Tn

and many more...

If your kids are like mine, they can fight about pretty much anything. This intense desire to own the rights to everything in the universe is one of the special gifts of childhood; it goes right along with skipping or jumping on trampolines without fear of wetting your pants.

In our family, there's a coveted seat in the van. Two of our kids used to fight over the aforementioned seat every single day of their tiny little lives, so I developed a system for keeping up with turns: the first-born gets the seat on odd-numbered dates, the second-born gets the seat on even-numbered dates. Do you see how I've eliminated the whole issue of remembering who sat where yesterday? It's beautiful.

On the months with 31 days, whatever you do, don't let the second-born trick you into believing it's unfair that the other kid gets the seat for two days in a row. Just say something like, "It's good for you to sit in the back twice in a row. It makes you stronger." You know, something authoritative like that.

If your kids fight over something else, a seat at the dinner table, first rights to screen time, you name it, give this system a go. If you've got more than two kids fighting over it, good luck with that. I've got nothing but love for you.

Do you have a system that works for you? We'd all love to know!

My husband is the father of two girls under the age of three.  If you had told him this ten years ago,  he probably would have run screaming or curled up in the fetal position.  Not that he has anything against girls - he's actually not one of those super macho, meat-head types or anything of the sort (not that there's anything wrong with that).  I just don't think many boys grow up thinking they're going to be Girl Dads.

I often wish I could gather a catalog of all the Girl Dad moments I witness and share them with his 20-something year-old self.  I don't think he'd believe it if I told him someday he'd be happily involved in following activities:

• painting his daughter's toenails the perfect shade of pink
• buying her a pop-up Princess Fort to use as a secret reading hideaway
• putting a pair of tights on a wriggly two year old
• mastering the art of gathering a mess of blonde curls into a ponytail
• helping her put a diaper on her baby doll
• fastening a super sparkly necklace around her neck, or tracking down her favorite purple plastic ring that's lost somewhere among her bedsheets
• trying to identify "that pink fairy I want to see!" from the 100's of animated programs on the TV guide

I think there's something special about Girl Dads.  It brings out a softness and realness in these men that they might otherwise be able to hide if fathering rough and tumble boys.

Don't get me wrong - the first weeks, maybe months, of having a newborn baby girl were intimidating and terrifying for him in a lot of ways.  Handling the diaper changes and the wiping duties were completely out of his comfort zone, but he powered through and has since been caught giving instructions to other upcoming Girl Dads.

He's in for a lifetime of pink; one of ponies and princesses, proms and potential suitors.  And let's not forget the weddings....the movie Father of the Bride has already been banned from our home.

Girls Dads teach their daughters how to kick a soccer ball before the afternoon showing of Cinderella.  They show by example how women are to be treated, setting the standard for their future boyfriends and husbands - a job not to be taken lightly.  Girl Dads aren't afraid to don a tutu and dance with their daughters while simultaneously killing a spider that's sent them into hysterics.

The big secret in all of this? Nothing will make you fall more in love with your husband all over again than seeing these Girl Dad moments during your everyday life.  Maybe knowing that would have made his 20-something self ok with the future pink toenail painting sessions.

 

 

By now, you have noticed the price you pay at the gas pump has edged upward, but have you noticed the cost of food increasing?

The Music City Marathon is fewer than three months away. In a normal year, this would mean little to me. This year, however, is not a normal year. This year I have committed to walking and jogging the half-marathon.

If you had asked me if I would ever attempt a half-marathon, my answer would be a resounding no. Not my thing. Not interested. Yet, now I find myself oddly intrigued, wondering if the impossible might just be possible.

I have mostly been walking and running on my newly acquired Craigslist treadmill. I was running at the YMCA doing the Couch to 5K program, but November and December weren't my best months. January was a better effort, but the next few months are going to need to be on a different level entirely.

I daydream occasionally of having a set work out plan instead of fitting it in between my son's preschool hours, the plethora of snow days, my own moods, and my strong desire to sleep late.

Running is something I rarely do. Let's face it, as someone in her late 30's, I'm rarely chased anymore. Until recently, that and running around the bases during a softball game were the only times running was necessary.

Then my sweet mother made tins and tins full of cookies for Thanksgiving. Toffee bars, peanut blossoms, s'mores. Nutella chocolate chip--well, you get the idea. My waist expanded.

Christmas arrived and with it another car-full of cookie tins. I ate with reckless abandon. I didn't even care if my waist expanded. How much bigger would it get?

Wait. Don't answer that.

So I have renewed my attempt at learning to run, and learning to like to run. I finished the holiday sweets binge and turned a cold shoulder to all things sweet. Back in my twenties, I would be a few days away from my old size and shape. Not so anymore. It takes more to undo what's been done. I'm talking marathon level undoing here.

I find it all to easy to waffle between getting serious about my health, and rationalizing away my unhealthful ways. A friend mentioned she was walking and jogging the half-marathon. I was impressed, but didn't think about it much after our conversation. Then another friend mentioned running the half-marathon. The thoughts lingered longer this time. By the time my third friend told me she thought we could do it, I found myself agreeing to try.

Since then, four other friends have mentioned their plans to run. I qualify that I will walk and jog because I'm quite sure I would be unable to jog 13 miles, so our plan includes some combination of the two.

Let's hope my determination carries over to the big day in April. I like to finish what I start. The empty cookie tins are the perfect example of that.

We don't know each other very well...yet.  Don't worry.  We will. 

I am a teacher and coach at a local independent high school.  I am married to another teacher and coach at the same said school.  I have two children who also attend said school.  It's kind of a family affair.

Anyway, because we both coach, and because we were becoming more and more concerned about the lack of physical activity that some of our students were getting, we decided to try to make some changes.

Coach (my husband) and I joined Weight Watchers last February.  He's lost a little over 50 pounds.  I've lost...a little less.  During that journey he rediscovered strenuous physical activity.  Seriously strenuous.  Navy Seal strenuous.   He now boasts 8% body fat and a size 34 waist.

Punk.

I flirt with the same nagging 15 pounds that I always flirt with.  I do feel a breakup coming on though.  It's time to get it gone.

So, back to our exercise story.  We decided to start by setting a good example for our own kids by exercising regularly and encouraging them to do the same.  Together, we have three children, two girls and a boy.  The girls are both 10 and the boy is 14.  I'm not altogether sure he'll live to see 15, but we'll see.

 We like to do things together.  We hike, we beach, we bike, we swim, we go to movies, and so it goes.  As of Thanksgiving morning, we also run.  Races.  We. Run. Races.

Together.  Sort of.  Actually, I guess you should say we run in the same races, but not really together.  Coach took his 8% body fat and tried to break his personal best.  I think he did, it was somewhere around 23 minutes.  G, my boy, also ran rather briskly; I think he finished somewhere around th 24 minute mark.

AC and I, well that's another story.  AC is 10.  She's not what I'd call a "mover."  She is gifted athletically, not Michael Jordan gifted, but gifted.  Sports come fairly easy to her.  But she's also the child who insists that she can't participate in PE because she has a hang nail or split ends.

I figured I had my work cut out for me.  I envisioned 3.1 miles of whining, crying, complaining, and general misery.  I couldn't have been more wrong.

At the start she shot out and wanted to sprint.  I told her to slow it down, we had a long way to go.  In her defense, she was merely making a run for the Krispy Kreme (the hot doughnut sign was on). 

I have to be honest here, at the first mile mark I was hurting.  AC?  Not so much.  As a matter of fact, she was running backwards with her arms outstretched going through all my coaching mantras:  "Come on, don't be soft."  "You think the coaches at BA are lollygagging?"  "It's gotta hurt to be good" Frankly, she messed that one up- I actually say, "Make it hurt so good"- but she doesn't know John Cougar, so I let it ride.

So I ask her, "How are you able to do this?  You haven't even trained."

And she said, "We run laps at PE and I drink water.  Duh."

And she's right.  She does run laps at PE.  And she does lunges and pushups and crunches, and she is instructed on the rules and skills of dozens of sports from tennis to badminton to softball to football.

We're lucky.  She has a fabulous PE instructor at a school that values physical fitness as part of a good education.  Coach Wells has them run the Country Music Marathon, they Jump Rope for Heart, they run races for cancer and arthritis and so many other things in addition to the curriculum he has in place for them at school. 

He's one of my unsung heroes, and a great help to our family in teaching our kids that physical development is imperative to well-being.  He has made it fun, but challenging, and my children have been well-prepared to use and develop their bodies.

If your school doesn't provide opportunities for kids to participate in community activities, perhaps you could?  Gather a team for a 5k, make fun t-shirts, and participate with them.  Kids love nothing more than to be able to say they beat their parents in a race.

And currently, that's the word on the street at the Momsense home.

 Join me the rest of the week over at my blog:  http://totalmomsens.net.  I'm a mom you can laugh at...er, I mean with.