Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween everyone! This is such a fun holiday for the little ones – cute little kids in warm fuzzy costumes and sleep-deprived parents sporting zombie-like circles under their eyes simply blend in with the crowds.

On this first Halloween for the muppets, they will be helping me hand out candy to the slightly larger little ones traversing the neighborhood in search of fun-size goodies. Our celebration was yesterday.

With lions and tigers and bears – oh my – a number of moms gathered to watch our progeny dive headfirst into a massive sugar high (and ball pit provided for toddler entertainment). Chaos ensued. There were Buzz Lightyears and Jesse the Toy Story Cowgirl, a skunk, giraffe and butterfly. Sadly, the jovial atmosphere was dampened when Mickey Mouse took a bite out of the bear (literally). The bear spent the rest of the afternoon running amuck in his undies – judging by the pattern on those, I suppose he transformed into a fire truck.

But, of course, kings of the jungle were the lion and the mischief-making monkey.

Caden

Logan

Logan was my little lion and Caden was mommy’s monkey. I grew up collecting stuffed animals – I have containers full waiting for the boys and still more stored at GrammaJ and GrampaTavo’s house. Today, my million dollar miracle muppets were by far the cutest and cuddliest stuffed animals to ever exist.

(Momentary tangent: I was completely unsuccessful in my attempts to locate muppet costumes for tiny infants. Apparently they only come in size six months and up, which is too big for the muppets even if they were term size. I figure I have at least one more year of getting to choose their costumes. Who among my loyal readers is crafty enough to create the perfect muppet costumes for Halloween 2011?)

One little boy was wearing an oversized “My First Halloween” onesie. He was one week old. I looked at the tiny man, who weighed in at a hefty seven and a half pounds, and exclaimed, “He’s so tiny!” I had become so used to my little perfect preemies that I hadn’t realized how quickly they were growing up. Not only are the muppets no longer the youngest kids in the crew, they are no longer the smallest!

I was thrilled to actually feel a baby (full term) was small. Look how far we’ve come – and that realization was the best “costume” of the day.

We’ve all had a great time during our first official kickoff to the 2010 holiday season. And Caden thinks this weekend’s adventures have been hilarious.

Trick-or-treat!

The Great Pumpkin Heist

The muppets are in bed. Last night, they slept for nine hours. I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised – they’ve had a busy week.

Yesterday, they came to visit me at work – in costume. With so many colors, lights and new people moving all around them, it was quite a bit to take in. Tomorrow we celebrate – in costume again – at a Halloween brunch, followed by candy and trick-or-treaters on Sunday. Before bed tonight, we watched “It’s the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown.” That cartoon, along with picking out a pumpkin from the pumpkin patch, are some of my favorite spooktacular memories of childhood.

As G.G. mentioned in the Tiny Disguises post, Halloween has become quite an important holiday – at least in terms of childhood memories. So, in anticipation of the muppets future memories, we decided to tell scary stories reminiscing about the past.

Much like me, a pumpkin from the patch was a traditional part of the haunted holiday for Aunt J. One year, Joanne became determined to procure a “real” carved pumpkin. Back in the days before open land was parceled into suburban track homes, there was a 40-acre field across from the house she lived in – where a farmer happened to have a bumper crop of autumn fruit.

Her best friend (and trouble-courting sisters) had already successfully managed pluck their own from the farmer’s field. They said it was easy. All she had to do was walk onto the field and chose her favorite.

Joanne was young, daring, adventurous and innocent. She decided she was brave enough to attempt the perfect great pumpkin heist. She had the courage, naiveté and peer encouragement. What she did not have, however, was timing. The caper commenced right after school, at the mysterious witching hour of mid-afternoon. She approached the field with caution and selected the prime, perfect, plump pumpkin. Then she started making her way home.

G.G. and Gramma J were watching the caper from afar.

Joanne saw them. She did not see the farmer watching her every move. As she crossed the field, so close to completing her mission, the farmer headed her off at the pass. Joanne froze. Her pumpkin splattered.

And she high-tailed it out of that field as fast as her little legs could carry her. Trembling, and scared to death, the budding criminal was bursting with adrenaline as she galloped across field – the farmer on his tractor in hot pursuit.

Gravely concerned for their daugher/sister’s well being, G.G. and Gramma J practically collapsed, convulsing in hysterical laughter.

Joanne did not return home with her pumpkin.

Boys – do not steal pumpkins. We will make our own adventures at the pumpkin patch.

 

Emotions

Happy

Sad

Tiny Disguises

This weekend is the muppets first holiday. Technically, they’ve already celebrated Independence Day and Labor Day – but this is the first holiday with muppet-specific planned events.

Perhaps it’s the weather. It’s chilly, slightly gloomy and very blustery. We’ve got a pumpkin on our porch and some very decoratively enthusiastic neighbors. Leaves now litter our tree-lined street and the arbor skeletons beckon to spirited children.

Halloween is here!

This is the first time in a very long time I’ve been so excited about All Souls Day. Two years ago, I was thrilled because we had a house and I was going to get trick-or-treaters. And even though they’re still a bit young, we have our own little monsters this year.

As several people have pointed out, yes, the muppets are too young to appreciate dressing up. Yes, I am aware of this and no, I am not driving the sport utility stroller door to door in a citywide search for fun-size candies. However, they will be participating in a parade at my work and attending a costume brunch on Saturday. Sunday, they’ll be home helping me hand out candy to the local disguised tricksters.

I issued a pop quiz to Gramma J – what did Paul and I dress up as each year of our childhood. She responded, “Are you kidding me?”

If my memory serves, I spent my childhood as a clown, witch, Barbie, angel, rabbit, Phantom of the Opera and, my personal creative favorite, a yellow Crayola crayon. My brother was a pirate, Indian, dinosaur, Care Bear GI Joe, and Ryne Sandberg.

I’m not sharing what the muppets are dressing up as just yet. I know many of you already know – but for those who don’t, let’s save the surprise for the big day. I’ll give you a hint. Despite my best efforts to procure the costumes, the boys are not going to be muppets.

I’m excited and eager for the memories. They grow up so fast.

See?

Mom Hair

“You have Mom hair.”

I looked at myself in my rearview mirror. It seems the ideal is for youthful long luxurious locks – then you have kids and make the move to a short, no-nonsense minivan-driving look. And I have become that mom. With Mom hair.

When the muppets were born, we bought a new car. It’s not a minivan (I drew the line at that one), but it is a three-row SUV. I laughed at myself then – I was well on my way to soccer-momdom.

During pregnancy, hormone changes cause hair to grow fuller, thicker, faster and just generally all around awesome looking. Perhaps that’s nature’s way of saying, sorry you resemble a beach ball – here’s a lovely frame for your newly full face. Sadly, I spent most of my time sporting a great mane as an accessory to a hospital gown.

I knew that my hair would start to fall out again several months after the muppets arrived. Since I’ve always had long thick hair, I thought I was prepared to deal with the inevitable shedding. But I was definitely not prepared for the actual extent of the shedding that was to occur.

One morning, four and a half months after the muppets were born, I had dragged my sleep-deprived self out of bed and was getting ready for work. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. The reflection staring back at me looked like it had a receding hairline. I brushed my hair off to the side, and brushed the thought out of my mind – obviously I was just deliriously tired.

But as I continued to get ready, I noticed my hair coming out by the handful. Strands of hair were all over the house. My desk at work was starting to look like a hair salon with clippings on the floor. I began to wonder if it was stress or lack of rest that was causing such a drastic style change.

That night was bath night. I casually asked Jon if he could tell that my hair looked a bit thinner. “Oh wow,” he commented. “Now that you point it out, I can totally see it.” I was not pleased (with the fact that it really was thinning, not that he commented on it).

Oh. My. Gosh. I stared down at my naked little man splashing around in the tub. My blood pressure started to rise a bit as I realized I was rapidly heading in the direction of matching hair styles with the fuzzy-noggined muppets.

Apparently, this is totally normal. All of my fellow mommy friends laughed at my predicament. Why did none of you warn me about this?! Each and every one pointed out that they had, in fact, told me this was going to happen. Why did none of you warn me about this in a way that made me believe you?!

I generally prefer long hair. I know Jon prefers long hair. But constantly combing out clumps of my hair was driving me slowly insane. The hair that wasn’t falling out was instead falling victim to the vice-like grips of muppet fists, which would then get ripped out if I tried to detach myself from a cuddly boy.

It was time for a drastic change. The hair was getting chopped.

For the record - my outfit was way less frumpy in person...

I think I’ll let it grow out again. When my hair decides to stay firmly put, it’s welcome to be long. Until then, I shall experiment with how to make Mom hair look stylishly chic. And I promise to stay away from the high-waist jeans.

 

Happy Days are Here

The muppets had a good day. This morning, I asked Jon how they were. He replied, “Smiley.”

And they are! Logan responds best to “mawwww,” while Caden appears to giggle at “bibbity booos.”

As a new mom, one of the most common coy premonitions of veteran moms was – just wait until you see them smile. It melts your heart.

Far be it from me to keep that joy from you. For your viewing pleasure, I present Logan’s first smile caught on camera. Whether it takes you back to when you had your own little ones or just gives you unexplained warm fuzzies because babies are cute – there’s something to be said for the pure unadulterated joy a smiling muppet can share.

Taking on Bullying Through the Color Purple

This post initially appeared on the Yodeling Mamas blog.

I began researching bullying in 2004; I completed my Masters thesis on the subject in 2007. Bullying is a widespread issue – and one that does not simply end with childhood. In fact, my thesis examined bullying in adults. But the post below was written to bring attention to schoolyard bullying after the suicides of several young men.

We wear purple today in honor of the recent lives lost. And to offer hope, so that no mother has to bury her son because he felt shame or worthlessness – whether that be because he was gay or simply deemed different by his peers during a defining time in his life.

**********

I wore purple today.

You may have seen the meme going around the Internet:
On Oct. 20, 2010, we will wear purple in honor of the six gay boys who committed suicide in recent weeks/months due to homophobic abuse in their homes and at their schools.

Bullying is a phenomenon that happens within most aspects of life — from childhood through adulthood. I believe most people would agree that bullying is an unpleasant situation, but people have differing opinions on what constitutes bullying.

Most individual definitions of bullying are based on personal memories developed during the emotional warfare of childhood. A 1996 study assumed that all children were somehow involved in childhood bullying practices, whether through direct participation or observation.

I polled a small group of college students to see how they defined the subject. Their responses included themes of negative acts in which the goal is to make “the bully” feel superior and the “bullyee” feel threatened.  Examples included picking on kids (typically the same group every time), teasing, stealing from them and beating them up; physically making people feel bad about themselves; psychologically intimidating or hurting another person; and purposely exclude another in order to gain a sense of power and respect. Each person I spoke with had his or her own interpretation of how to define the occurrence.

Perhaps this was a reflection of the widely held stereotypes of gender in the bullying process — boys as physically aggressive anonymous bullies versus girls as covert and subtle manipulators.

In the spirit of the current MLB playoffs, let’s use baseball as a metaphor: A pitcher on the baseball field uses a variety of pitches against his or her opponent.  A fastball provides a metaphor for the notion of masculine bullying.  The ball is thrown hard, fast and directly towards the strike zone in front of the batter — a direct and visible challenge.  In contrast, a curve ball represents feminine bullying.  The pitch appears as though it is heading toward home plate in one direction, but slyly changes its route at the end — tricking the batter’s perception of when and where to swing the bat. Pitcher and team alike agree that both types of pitches are necessary to win. Bullies use both masculine and feminine forms of bullying against victims.

I use the term “victim” to describe the person on the receiving end of aggression not because they have no recourse, but because a person in a bullying situation often feels victimized during the occurrence.  All types of harassment are bullying if the actions of the perpetrator have the effect of hurting another mentally or physically; cruel actions alone do not constitute bullying if no harm is perceived.  Bullies and victims alike are men and women of all races, ages, and classes.

Wounds that can result from long-term bullying have many of the same features of abuse — a sense of betrayal, elements of self-doubt and blame, and feelings of hopelessness and anger.

Shame is a natural feeling to occur after a bullying experience.  The thought that you or I “knowingly” entered into a direct path of victimization and remained put, can lead to an enormous sense of injustice. Eventually, this can lead to an intense desire to prove to the external world that I, as the accused, am not the person portrayed by my bully. This may have played a part in the recent loss of the six bullied boys.

An important first step to address the problem bullying is helping people to understand that it’s more than just “kid stuff,” more than, “Oh, boys will be boys.” People who experience bullying may find that they are able to maintain a sense of their power simply by gaining the ability to put a name to the situation.

So, today I wore purple. What color are you wearing?

 

Yodeling Mamas

I’m a mama. And I yodel by day. So becoming a yodeling mama seemed like the next logical step. I am officially a mommy blogger.

Yodeling Mamas is the online home for the digital and domestic lives of Yahoo! moms. I now have the privilege of being a contributor. In addition to the wonderful muppet tales you will continue to find here, I will be writing articles as Mama Tricia.

I will also post those articles here, but feel free to take a look at the other blog and see what other moms have to say.

Yodeling Mamas: http://www.yodelingmamas.com/blog/?p=1961#more-1961
We come from every corner of the company—and the world—to talk kids, careers and the challenges that come with balancing the two. We’re Yahoos. We’re moms. And we’re blogging about the stuff that makes us yodel.

About the Mamas: http://www.yodelingmamas.com/blog/?page_id=15
Name: Tricia

Job: PR Manager

Bio: Tricia became a Yahoo in November 2009. She found out she was expecting in December 2009 and in January 2010 learned that she and her husband were soon-to-be parents of twins. Six months later, the muppets arrived. Now the proud mommy of two healthy NICU graduates, Tricia is back yodeling at Yahoo! and thankful to be working for a company that embraces the double trouble of motherhood and career.

Also yodels at: http://www.streamdoubletrouble.com

Raindrops on Roses

…and teardrops and sneezes. The muppets have experienced their first rainstorm. I do not think they liked it.

Now, the muppets didn’t actually venture out into dreary, drippy gloom, but they spent a very cranky day making their displeasure known.  The day began with Logan screaming for food at the top of his (rapidly growing) lungs. I quietly entered the nursery figuring Caden was still asleep and I could feed both boys without rousing the rest of the house. Caden was not asleep. Caden was voraciously gnawing on his brother – which, in retrospect, may have also contributed to Logan’s screaming.

It became readily apparent that they were going to have a “Hold Me” day. Not so bad, I thought – with the rain pounding down on the roof, we can sit back and cuddle in our jammies.

Nope.

We were having a “Hold Me and Do Something Entertaining” day. Problem was, neither Caden nor Logan could figure out precisely what they found entertaining.

Compounded the crankiness were two uncomfortable tummy aches. Logan wouldn’t sit; he would arch his back and wail. Caden kept scrunching up his legs into his tummy while his lower lip would pout and begin to quiver as he sobbed.

It suddenly became very clear. The muppets had to poop. Caden’s last download was eight days ago – it was imminent. Sure enough, as Caden squirmed around in his bouncy chair, GrammaJ and I heard the unmistakable sound of a young child airing out his insides. Shortly thereafter, the accompanying pungent aroma began slowly perfuming the room.

The dogs got up and left.

I clapped and cheered the accomplishment of this recent bodily function and scooped up the child for a now urgent diaper change. But he wasn’t finished. As I was finishing up with the first change, another wave of baby poo oozed out onto the second diaper – then a third. I reached over to grab the fourth diaper of this monumental change when I heard it. An explosion emerged from my son. I shrieked – poop cleared the diaper laid out on the changing table, spraying a bit onto the pad and splattered across the cardboard boxes holding high chairs in the corner of the nursery. Caden looked up at me, his face breaking into a huge grin. Well done!

As I was telling this story, a friend interrupted me. “You ever have those moments where you stop and think, ‘I used to be cooler than this…and now look at me.’?” I responded with the appropriate cliché about how, considering everything we’ve been through with the muppets, dynamite poop couldn’t be cooler.

But the truth is, I was never cool. Life prior to the muppets often found me yelling at the dog for eating his own poop. Whereas I used to get home from work and ask, “What did the dog eat today,” now I get home to discover how many outfits have been changed due to a puking incident. (For curious readers, the records stand at the California Penal Code, leather boots, two baseball gloves and five respectively.)

What parenthood has brought me, are the stories to tell of things I never thought I’d hear myself saying or doing. “Sweetie, please don’t try to eat your brother.” And poop is cause for celebration.

 

Guardian Angels

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.

This is a day to take a moment to reflect on the little ones watching down over us – the dedicated guardian angels tasked with keeping our muppets safe.

Losing a child is not fair. And it’s not easy, no matter when it occurs. No clichés or well-meaning comments from others can simply make it all better.

So today is a day to sit back and remember. May all the little unknown angels out there know how loved they are – even though we never had the chance to meet you.

For more information, check out materials available from the March of Dimes.