As if I didn't have enough outlets to post my ridiculous myriad of random thoughts at any given moment, I have given in and joined Twitter.
Feel free to follow me, though I must admit, I still have no clue what I'm doing. The only thing I understand thus far is how to post my own tweets. The rest? Fuhgedaboutit.
@Mel_Kalinosky
Tweet me!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
The Shoes
What I'm about to post, I'm not proud of.
Yesterday mom took Nick and I shopping. Specifically shoe shopping for Nick. He's standing all the time, and so close to taking a step, that we knew it was time he started wearing shoes. Not to mention it's freezing outside, and just wearing socks isn't keeping him as warm as I'd like.
Mom had generously offered to buy Nick his first pair of shoes, and I was so excited thinking about seeing him in tiny shoes. I've had a love of baby shoes that dates back to my high school days. I LOVE little shoes. So why had we waited so long to actually put shoes on Nick's feet? Well, we hadn't been able to. Dude has some SERIOUSLY fat feet. They are wide and chubby. Socks rarely stay pulled up in place, they are so thick. So up until this point, I sort of avoided shoes due to the plain fact that I couldn't get his feet in any.
But, we figured it was time to get him measured. So we headed to Stride Rite at Fair Oaks, and proceeded to get him measured. And homeboy wears a size 4 - EXTRA Wide. Not just regular wide...EXTRA wide.
Here's where it got bad.
By the time we left the mall, we were all near tears. Nick was near tears because he was exhausted and starving. I was near tears because I didn't like the shoes. And mom was near tears because I had hurt her feelings. And I'm disgusted with myself.
When I dropped mom off at home, she took Nick's new shoes, put them back in the box, calmly told me she was going to return them, kissed us goodbye, and quickly went inside.
So today, in reflection on my terrible attitude yesterday, which spoiled what was supposed to be such a fun "first" in Nick's life, I would like to tell my mom -- I'm sorry. I already know you'll forgive me -- because I'm your child, and that's what mom's do. But I want you to know I am deeply remorseful for my actions. And I'm hopeful we can have round two of shoe-fitting with Nick, together. And this time, I promise to be on my best behavior. ;) I love you, mom!
Yesterday mom took Nick and I shopping. Specifically shoe shopping for Nick. He's standing all the time, and so close to taking a step, that we knew it was time he started wearing shoes. Not to mention it's freezing outside, and just wearing socks isn't keeping him as warm as I'd like.
Mom had generously offered to buy Nick his first pair of shoes, and I was so excited thinking about seeing him in tiny shoes. I've had a love of baby shoes that dates back to my high school days. I LOVE little shoes. So why had we waited so long to actually put shoes on Nick's feet? Well, we hadn't been able to. Dude has some SERIOUSLY fat feet. They are wide and chubby. Socks rarely stay pulled up in place, they are so thick. So up until this point, I sort of avoided shoes due to the plain fact that I couldn't get his feet in any.
But, we figured it was time to get him measured. So we headed to Stride Rite at Fair Oaks, and proceeded to get him measured. And homeboy wears a size 4 - EXTRA Wide. Not just regular wide...EXTRA wide.
As soon as we walked in the store, mom started telling the store clerk (a young girl, probably about 16 years old), all about Nick's feet and what we were looking for and needed, etc. For some reason, this made me upset. I suppose I felt like, as his mom, and as it was the first pair of shoes I would be seeing him in, I should be doing the talking. So I snapped at my mom. I said "do YOU want to do the talking?!"
I should have slapped myself silly right then and there. But I only got worse.
We struggled with a couple different sizes and shoes before we were able to get a pair of cute little sneakers on Nick's feet. All the while, mom was offering up her opinion on what she thought would be ideal and more suitable for Nick to learn to walk in. I should have listened, and taken her advice to heart. After all, she put shoes on two kids, and this sales clerk was barely old enough to drive. But instead, I got frustrated and annoyed by her advice. And I only acted worse. I could have easily been compared to the other 7 year olds in the store stomping around and acting like ungrateful children.
Mom picked out a pair of white, leather, ankle high shoes that looked identical to the ones my brother and I wore when we were babies. So instantly all I could think about was how outdated and orthopedic-like these shoes looked. I had zero concern for if they were good for his fat feet, or more conducive to helping him learn to walk. To me, they looked goofy. Not my style. And I was embarrassed by how Nick looked in them.
EMBARRASSED! Can you believe me?! I'm embarrassed just thinking about my childish self. WHO CARED what he looks like in them! I should be grateful that he is on his way to walking -- that he can stand -- that he even has feet! But I was embarrassed by fashion. Fashion for a 10 month old. I want to rewind back to yesterday morning and just go ahead and spank myself for my actions.
But instead of being a big girl and saying to my mom "those just aren't my style, I'd really prefer the other shoes", I felt compelled to tell her we should get the white ones. Solely because I knew SHE liked them. And while I thought I would make her happy by getting them, I should have known I was really hurting her feelings...because what followed was a series of jokes and comments about his "new orthopedic kicks!" or "hope daddy and uncle Matt don't make too much fun of you..." and "did you really just like those shoes because they reminded you of what Matt and I wore?"
By the time we left the mall, we were all near tears. Nick was near tears because he was exhausted and starving. I was near tears because I didn't like the shoes. And mom was near tears because I had hurt her feelings. And I'm disgusted with myself.
When I dropped mom off at home, she took Nick's new shoes, put them back in the box, calmly told me she was going to return them, kissed us goodbye, and quickly went inside.
I pulled out of her driveway and burst into tears. Partially because I wished I had just told her from the get-go that I wanted to get him the other shoes. But mostly because I felt terrible about my actions. I'm a grown woman -- and a mommy at that. I would hate for Nick to ever talk to me the way I did to my mom yesterday. And I know he will. Several times as he grows up. But at 29 years old, I should have been able to control my reactions. I could have prevented the whole horrible ordeal. And over what?! Shoes?! How ridiculous of me!
It doesn't mean that I like the shoes anymore than I did yesterday. But it does mean that I have a little less respect for myself. Who cares what his shoes look like. He'll likely outgrow them in a few months anyway. And if they help him learn to walk, then they are the right fit regardless of style.
So today, in reflection on my terrible attitude yesterday, which spoiled what was supposed to be such a fun "first" in Nick's life, I would like to tell my mom -- I'm sorry. I already know you'll forgive me -- because I'm your child, and that's what mom's do. But I want you to know I am deeply remorseful for my actions. And I'm hopeful we can have round two of shoe-fitting with Nick, together. And this time, I promise to be on my best behavior. ;) I love you, mom!
Holy Molasses!
In our house, Todd does the baking. Don't get me wrong -- I'm known to make the occasional batch of pumpkin cupcakes, or a pan of chocolaty brownies, but anything I make is out of a box, requires little time, and is basically fail-proof...meaning, I can't screw it up.
My husband, however, LOVES holiday baking. So yesterday, he spent the entire day watching football and baking. He baked two huge batches of chex mix (yes, he combines all the elements, spices, seasoning, etc. himself...no store bought for our family), two huge batches of puppy chow (the chex mix covered in peanut butter, chocolate, and powdered sugar), a few dozen molasses cookies -- my absolute FAVORITE, and two huge pound cakes with lemon glaze.
Pound cakes not pictured
My husband, however, LOVES holiday baking. So yesterday, he spent the entire day watching football and baking. He baked two huge batches of chex mix (yes, he combines all the elements, spices, seasoning, etc. himself...no store bought for our family), two huge batches of puppy chow (the chex mix covered in peanut butter, chocolate, and powdered sugar), a few dozen molasses cookies -- my absolute FAVORITE, and two huge pound cakes with lemon glaze.
Pound cakes not picturedI can actually hear myself getting fatter.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Dirty houses don't matter...
Todd had to work late last night, so I was single-parenting again. And to be honest, minus the fact that I miss having my husband home and Nick misses his Daddy (and I know Todd misses us, too), I don't mind single-parent nights. I get to focus all my attention on Nick, playing with him on the floor and tossing him in the air. Giggling and clapping as we eat dinner, and snuggling as he has his last bottle before bed.
But after I put Nick to bed, I tiptoed downstairs, looked around the house and decided I had "given up" for the night. There were toys strewn across the living room. Blocks under the couch, stuffed animals under the coffee table. Leftover chicken and mashed potatoes on the high chair tray and a half-full sippy cup of water covered in tiny, sticky hand prints. A sink full of dirty dishes and a dishwasher full of clean ones waiting to be put away. Mail was aimlessly scattered on the kitchen island, and shoes were spread out through the foyer hallway.
For a moment, I tried to give myself a pep-talk and convince myself that I could get it all cleaned up before I too went to bed. But the pep-talk lost to the TV. And I felt terribly guilty for having not focused on the household chores, and instead spending my evening laying on the living room floors running cars into stacks of blocks. I chided myself for not being more of a grown-up and acting like a mommy who has it altogether and keeps her house spic & span, while keeping her near-tantrum-throwing-aged 10.5 month old from melting down from lack of attention or hunger pains.
I went to bed feeling unaccomplished and lazy.
So after I dropped Nick at daycare this morning, I came home and picked up all the toys and straightened up the living room. I emptied the dishwasher, refilled it with the dirty dishes, and scrubbed the pots & pans by hand. I attempted to straighten the mess of mail on the island, and I swept the kitchen floor. Then I commenced with my morning blog reading. And as I hopped around the blogosphere, I came across this quote:
"The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow...But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow. So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep! I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep." - Ruth Hulbert Hamilton
And all that guilt faded away. I had not gone to bed unaccomplished or lazy. I had cared for my child. I had spent time with the most precious part of my life. I had made him feel loved, and safe, and cared for. All of those fleeting moments that I get to spend with my sweet baby -- who won't be a baby for long -- are worth every single crumb, dust spec, and misplaced item. For he is the greatest accomplishment of my life.
But after I put Nick to bed, I tiptoed downstairs, looked around the house and decided I had "given up" for the night. There were toys strewn across the living room. Blocks under the couch, stuffed animals under the coffee table. Leftover chicken and mashed potatoes on the high chair tray and a half-full sippy cup of water covered in tiny, sticky hand prints. A sink full of dirty dishes and a dishwasher full of clean ones waiting to be put away. Mail was aimlessly scattered on the kitchen island, and shoes were spread out through the foyer hallway.
For a moment, I tried to give myself a pep-talk and convince myself that I could get it all cleaned up before I too went to bed. But the pep-talk lost to the TV. And I felt terribly guilty for having not focused on the household chores, and instead spending my evening laying on the living room floors running cars into stacks of blocks. I chided myself for not being more of a grown-up and acting like a mommy who has it altogether and keeps her house spic & span, while keeping her near-tantrum-throwing-aged 10.5 month old from melting down from lack of attention or hunger pains.
I went to bed feeling unaccomplished and lazy.
So after I dropped Nick at daycare this morning, I came home and picked up all the toys and straightened up the living room. I emptied the dishwasher, refilled it with the dirty dishes, and scrubbed the pots & pans by hand. I attempted to straighten the mess of mail on the island, and I swept the kitchen floor. Then I commenced with my morning blog reading. And as I hopped around the blogosphere, I came across this quote:
"The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow...But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow. So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep! I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep." - Ruth Hulbert Hamilton
And all that guilt faded away. I had not gone to bed unaccomplished or lazy. I had cared for my child. I had spent time with the most precious part of my life. I had made him feel loved, and safe, and cared for. All of those fleeting moments that I get to spend with my sweet baby -- who won't be a baby for long -- are worth every single crumb, dust spec, and misplaced item. For he is the greatest accomplishment of my life.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Oh Dollar Tree, Oh Dollar Tree
This year money is tight through the whole family. Ok, maybe it's just tight for the Kalinosky clan, but it's tight none-the-less, and as such we had a family "discussion" of sorts that ended up with the conclusion that we will not buy each other presents, and instead the focus will be mainly on Nick and his first Christmas.
Turns out this is awesome on so many levels.
As someone who loves to give "the perfect gift" and often misses the boat in doing so, I can typically be found in the last few weeks of December pulling out my hair and racking my brain about what to buy my 86 year old grandfather who has everything (literally, EVERY.THING.), or if my mom is going to like the sweater I bought her, or if I bought enough gifts for each person, and spent enough money, etc. etc. I can't even tell you how many times I've had the same recurring nightmare that it's Christmas eve, we're all gathered at my parents house placing our gifts under the tree, and suddenly I realize I've forgotten to buy a present for some member of my family (the person changes each time), and I frantically rush off to the store in a blizzard (because it always blizzards on Christmas eve in my crazy dream) and I can't find any decent stores, nor can I decide what to buy, and ultimately I end up getting stuck in the blizzard, with no present, and calling Todd or my dad to come rescue me. Then I wake up in a cold sweat wondering if I've checked everyone off my list. It's awful.
With no gift-giving, comes no stress about buying said gifts, or if you've spent enough money. This has been amazing.
Obviously this means not spending much money, which is also amazing because our wallets and bank account will not be feeling the sting of over-spending on gifts that most people will probably never use...like the s'mores kit my brother bought me in 2004...or the slurpee maker I gave him in 2007. (which I'll have you know we both still own, and both have never used).
In our house, Todd and I have decided to buy Nick very few gifts, as we know he'll be receiving a ridiculous bounty from his grandparents, great-grandparents, uncles, great aunts & uncles, etc., and we also know he will probably be more enthralled with all of the wrapping paper, bows, tissue paper, and boxes to even care whats inside. But we didn't want to go completely without anything to open on Christmas day, so we've decided to do stocking stuffers for each other from...get this...the Dollar Tree. Yup -- call it a redneck Christmas, call us un-classy, call us cheap if you want...but for us, it's all about the hilarity of seeing what "treasures" we can find at the Dollar Tree and stuff in each other's stockings.
But more so than saving ourselves money and avoiding the stress (and the crowds!) that come with holiday shopping, by not buying each other gifts and solely focusing on Nick, we're all allowing ourselves to experience Christmas again through the eyes of a child. This Christmas, we'll all celebrate our own little St. Nick ;). Instead of gathering in nervous anticipation as we watch each other open presents in hopes that they will be well received, now we can gather in excitement as we watch Nick giggling in delight as he tears the paper off of toy after toy. We'll breathe a sigh of relief that we didn't all give Gramma & Grampa McDonald's gift cards again. And we'll all head back to our own homes, relieved that we don't have piles of new stuff to put away.
Oh crap. WE will have piles of stuff to put away. Where the hell am I gonna put all of Nick's new toys???
Good thing we're not spending money this year...looks like Santa's gonna need a bigger house!
Turns out this is awesome on so many levels.
As someone who loves to give "the perfect gift" and often misses the boat in doing so, I can typically be found in the last few weeks of December pulling out my hair and racking my brain about what to buy my 86 year old grandfather who has everything (literally, EVERY.THING.), or if my mom is going to like the sweater I bought her, or if I bought enough gifts for each person, and spent enough money, etc. etc. I can't even tell you how many times I've had the same recurring nightmare that it's Christmas eve, we're all gathered at my parents house placing our gifts under the tree, and suddenly I realize I've forgotten to buy a present for some member of my family (the person changes each time), and I frantically rush off to the store in a blizzard (because it always blizzards on Christmas eve in my crazy dream) and I can't find any decent stores, nor can I decide what to buy, and ultimately I end up getting stuck in the blizzard, with no present, and calling Todd or my dad to come rescue me. Then I wake up in a cold sweat wondering if I've checked everyone off my list. It's awful.
With no gift-giving, comes no stress about buying said gifts, or if you've spent enough money. This has been amazing.
Obviously this means not spending much money, which is also amazing because our wallets and bank account will not be feeling the sting of over-spending on gifts that most people will probably never use...like the s'mores kit my brother bought me in 2004...or the slurpee maker I gave him in 2007. (which I'll have you know we both still own, and both have never used).
In our house, Todd and I have decided to buy Nick very few gifts, as we know he'll be receiving a ridiculous bounty from his grandparents, great-grandparents, uncles, great aunts & uncles, etc., and we also know he will probably be more enthralled with all of the wrapping paper, bows, tissue paper, and boxes to even care whats inside. But we didn't want to go completely without anything to open on Christmas day, so we've decided to do stocking stuffers for each other from...get this...the Dollar Tree. Yup -- call it a redneck Christmas, call us un-classy, call us cheap if you want...but for us, it's all about the hilarity of seeing what "treasures" we can find at the Dollar Tree and stuff in each other's stockings.
But more so than saving ourselves money and avoiding the stress (and the crowds!) that come with holiday shopping, by not buying each other gifts and solely focusing on Nick, we're all allowing ourselves to experience Christmas again through the eyes of a child. This Christmas, we'll all celebrate our own little St. Nick ;). Instead of gathering in nervous anticipation as we watch each other open presents in hopes that they will be well received, now we can gather in excitement as we watch Nick giggling in delight as he tears the paper off of toy after toy. We'll breathe a sigh of relief that we didn't all give Gramma & Grampa McDonald's gift cards again. And we'll all head back to our own homes, relieved that we don't have piles of new stuff to put away.
Oh crap. WE will have piles of stuff to put away. Where the hell am I gonna put all of Nick's new toys???
Good thing we're not spending money this year...looks like Santa's gonna need a bigger house!
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Little Lords and Ladies
This morning Mom stopped by to pick up Nick and take him to my Grandparents house for the day. I am so happy that my grandparents are still healthy and able to enjoy this time with their first great-grandchild on such a regular basis. And that my mom is retired now and able to facilitate these visits. Such a blessing.
When mom showed up at our house, the first thing she said (which in all honesty is always the first thing she says) to Nick was "you look so cute!" And he did.
Naturally he's freaking adorable, so this was no surprise. But in his overalls with the firetruck on the front, and matching red shirt underneath, he looked edible.
And I realized that he always looks so cute in his little outfits because he has a LOT of clothes. Nearly 75% of which are from our favorite consignment shop -- Little Lords & Ladies.
My hairdresser (who has three kids of her own) told me about this store, and at first, admittedly, I was a bit nervous to check it out. Not that I'm above shopping at consignment stores by any means...I just think I was mostly concerned that their selection would be sub-par, or that the clothes would be in bad shape, or over-priced.
But holy, sweet deals, this place is amazing. They only take gently used, CLEAN, clothes. We ended up getting Nick 3 pairs of overalls, a Washington Capitals sweatsuit, a VA Tech sweatsuit, several long-sleeved onesies, a hat, two sweaters, a pair of jeans, and a myriad of other clothes that I can't even remember right now, for all under about $70. And I'm talking CUTE stuff, in practically brand new condition. Pretty much everything we bought him was 12 month size (we made this shopping trip a few months ago...before he was crawling)...and sadly he's already starting to grow out of some of his 12 month stuff.
So I was thrilled when mom said "we need to go back to Little Lords & Ladies soon so I can get Nick some new clothes!" um, yes please, mom!
Anyway -- LL&L only takes gently used clothes, and they rotate out their stock all the time so you get new, cute stuff...and you're not always browsing the same old rows of used clothes. Not to mention every single item goes on sale if it's still in the store after a certain date. It is the most incredible system I've ever seen. SO... if you are looking to get some serious bang for your buck -- and new (to you) duds for your little one -- go to Little Lords & Ladies. Seriously. They don't even know I'm posting this -- I just love their shop THAT much.
I can't wait to go back!
When mom showed up at our house, the first thing she said (which in all honesty is always the first thing she says) to Nick was "you look so cute!" And he did.
Naturally he's freaking adorable, so this was no surprise. But in his overalls with the firetruck on the front, and matching red shirt underneath, he looked edible.
And I realized that he always looks so cute in his little outfits because he has a LOT of clothes. Nearly 75% of which are from our favorite consignment shop -- Little Lords & Ladies.
My hairdresser (who has three kids of her own) told me about this store, and at first, admittedly, I was a bit nervous to check it out. Not that I'm above shopping at consignment stores by any means...I just think I was mostly concerned that their selection would be sub-par, or that the clothes would be in bad shape, or over-priced.
But holy, sweet deals, this place is amazing. They only take gently used, CLEAN, clothes. We ended up getting Nick 3 pairs of overalls, a Washington Capitals sweatsuit, a VA Tech sweatsuit, several long-sleeved onesies, a hat, two sweaters, a pair of jeans, and a myriad of other clothes that I can't even remember right now, for all under about $70. And I'm talking CUTE stuff, in practically brand new condition. Pretty much everything we bought him was 12 month size (we made this shopping trip a few months ago...before he was crawling)...and sadly he's already starting to grow out of some of his 12 month stuff.
So I was thrilled when mom said "we need to go back to Little Lords & Ladies soon so I can get Nick some new clothes!" um, yes please, mom!
Anyway -- LL&L only takes gently used clothes, and they rotate out their stock all the time so you get new, cute stuff...and you're not always browsing the same old rows of used clothes. Not to mention every single item goes on sale if it's still in the store after a certain date. It is the most incredible system I've ever seen. SO... if you are looking to get some serious bang for your buck -- and new (to you) duds for your little one -- go to Little Lords & Ladies. Seriously. They don't even know I'm posting this -- I just love their shop THAT much.
I can't wait to go back!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
First Christmas Card!
Nick received his first Christmas card in the mail yesterday. It was from Gramma and Boss! He was anxious to read it...
And even started fist pumping in excitement!
After about 2 minutes of waving the card around, he tossed it on the ground and moved on to something else. The life of an active, and very mobile, 10 month old. The world is his oyster!
And just showing off some of his latest tricks...he now claps anytime you call him a "good boy". Even when he's tired of eating dinner and has a face covered in mashed potatoes...he'll still clap for a "good boy" comment. :)
And even started fist pumping in excitement!
After about 2 minutes of waving the card around, he tossed it on the ground and moved on to something else. The life of an active, and very mobile, 10 month old. The world is his oyster!And just showing off some of his latest tricks...he now claps anytime you call him a "good boy". Even when he's tired of eating dinner and has a face covered in mashed potatoes...he'll still clap for a "good boy" comment. :)
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