Check Out the February Issue of Real Simple Magazine

In case you're interested, check out the February issue of Real Simple Magazine. My husband and I are featured in an article on how couples met. (p. 114) The article is heartwarming and pretty cool, if I do say so myself. The whole experience from the interview to the photo shoot was a treat. We'll even have a library of photos from the shoot that will be keepsakes for a lifetime.  You can pick up a copy of Real Simple at your local newsstand, Whole Foods or Barnes and Noble.

Thanking Our Lucky Stars

Yesterday was one of the scariest days I’ve had as a mom. And, if you’re a parent, particularly of older kids, then you’ve probably had a similar day at some point. You know, one of those days where something happened that could have easily changed your life for the worse. But luckily, things didn’t turn out to be so bad after all.

That morning like most Tuesdays, I had to do a morning drop off at the kids’ daycare and preschool, so I could go to work. The night before it had snowed ever so lightly, leaving a slippery film on the sidewalk. Earlier that morning, I walked outside to pack up the car with the various bags, backpacks, lunch bags and dance bags that we normally require every Tuesday. This was done all before strapping the girls into the car in their respective car seats.

When the girls and I came outside, my 4-year-old walked in front of me as she so often does, and I carried my youngest in my arms – against her will of course. She much prefers walking on her on, but at 20 months old, it’s much easier and quicker to just carry her. At least for me, carrying a toddler was much easier before I was seven months pregnant.  In any case, all three of us emerged from our front door as we do on any ordinary day. As I walked down the steps at normal pace, the wet ground didn’t feel slippery at all until I got to the very last step. What happened next occurred so fast that I am still trying to figure out how it happened. As I stepped onto the last step, my foot slipped out from under me so quickly that I completely lost my balance, falling to the ground while holding my daughter.

As we both hit the ground, I awkwardly on my arm and leg, and her supine mostly shielded by my body. I looked in horror trying to protect her, but I just couldn’t. When my daughter hit the ground, her head --  the most fragile part of her -- hit the concrete. She immediately started screaming and crying, and I began to panic – fearing I’d injured her.  With every ounce of energy I could muster, I pulled my pregnant body of the ground, hoisting my child up in the process. While my oldest stood frozen in fear, all I could do was hold my youngest in my arms while she cried…and cried for what seemed like forever.  

Naturally, I feared the worse. What if she had a concussion? Or, worse yet what if I’d caused a lifelong head injury? I mean her head did hit the concrete, and a very pregnant mother just fell on top of her.  I kept holding her while she cried, and then I began lightly rubbing her head trying to feel for any impressions, indents or cuts. I parted her hair to look through her scalp for any blood. I found nothing.After about the longest four minutes of our lives, she stopped crying, and just stared at me with her usual content expression – blinking normally.  I wasn’t sure what to do next – I just knew I didn’t want to let her go.

My oldest asked if her sister was okay, and then mentioned something about my earring being on the ground. A neighbor then walked over to check on us.  Still emotional and stunned, I began to tear up thinking this whole thing was my fault.  Had I just allowed my baby to walk to the car, then none of this would have happened. What was I thinking trying to carry a 25-pound little girl while seven months pregnant? Talk about ill-thought decisions. Talk about mommy guilt.

After about 10 minutes of sitting on the porch hugging my youngest, praying for forgiveness and making small talk with my oldest to put her at ease, it appeared we had avoided a major tragedy. So, I put the girls in the car, then wondered if I should drive to the emergency room just to be sure everything was okay with my daughter’s head. No sooner than we pulled out of the driveway, my youngest starts cackling with laughter at something my oldest said to her. I breathed a sigh of relief, and at that moment had some reassurance that everything was going to turn out okay. My daughter was acting like her normal self even after that horrible fall. She appeared alert and ready to start her day.

After dropping off my oldest at preschool, I called the pediatrician’s office to see if I could get my youngest in to be seen by the doctor. To make a long story short, my daughter was evaluated by her doctor who found no damage to her head. 

We stayed home that day – just the two of us -- so I could keep an eye out for any latent symptoms as a result of the fall. My daughter was totally fine for the rest of the day, but clearly loving all the extra attention she was getting since I was watching her closely every second. I was emotional for the rest of the day – filled with gratitude, relief and even uncertainty.  I thought about a number of things that day. Namely, how thankful I was that our daughter escaped the fall unscathed.  I would never have forgiven myself if I hurt her and caused irreparable damage, which could have negatively impacted her life. Yeah, I know it was an accident, but as a mom I think we’ll always feel guilt even when things happen even beyond our control. 

Finally, I also thought about how that day would likely be one of the last times my youngest -- soon to be middle child -- and I would be able to spend time alone together before the baby is born in a few weeks. It made me sad in some way as I don’t want her to feel like she’s lost her place in our family.  

Yesterday was enough to scare me for a lifetime. It is unfortunate that we as moms can’t keep days like that from ever happening. But one thing’s for certain, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure (Benjamin Franklin).  I think from now on I’ll just listen to my daughter and allow her to walk to the car on her own.

Soon to Be...Mommy of Three

Well, the countdown is on! In T-95 days, I'll officially be a mommy of three girls!

If you’re a member of our family or a friend IRL, you’ve already known about our pregnancy news for quite some time. It's no secret that my husband and I both became so comfortable with two children, we never imagined a party of five.

A month or two into my pregnancy, a third child only became palatable because I had convinced myself and everyone else  -- after two little girls -- that this time I was having a boy.  I mean why not? We’d already had two daughters. I married a man who came from a family of all boys, and ladies we all know men determine the sex. The odds were certainly in our favor. Everyone's got at least a 50/50 shot, right?  Well, apparently not the case for our family.

Life is certainly full of surprises. I can't deny that baby #3 isn’t one of them. But, what was really shocking? Finding out two days before Thanksgiving that this little bean (now a hothouse cucumber!) was in fact, another girl.

For many reasons, I believed a male child was owed to us since I'd already had two daughters. For one, having two hormonal teenaged daughters is enough for any mom…let alone three! It is almost cruel. Also, this pregnancy was an oops baby. A blessing for sure, but definitely not planned. (And, if you’re acquainted with me, you know that I try to plan every detail of my life as meticulously as possible.) So, to discover I was pregnant unexpectedly, took a minute to get used to. But since I just knew this one was a boy, getting used to it wasn't so hard after all.

As a woman, I thought I possessed the perfect blend of feminine chic and delicate masculinity ideal for raising boys. A former tomboy myself, I imagined myself a "cool" mom. I relished the thought of having a son, so I could sit down on the couch and play video games, sign him up for little league, practice throwing a football, take him to his first Ravens' game, teach him how to drive stick, demonstrate how to mightily take a shot of whiskey without passing out, purchase him his very first porn mag (at the appropriate age of course!) and show him how a lady likes to be treated. I figured for these reasons and many more I was created for raising boys...and girls!

But, alas my husband and I were chosen to raise girls and only girls. I wholeheartedly appreciate the little blessings we do have and am thankful for both of our daughters...as well as the one I'm carrying. As it stands now, our girls are innately feminine and girly, which is beautiful, precious and sweet all on its own. Instead of little league football, it looks like we’ll have our fair share of ballet recitals, princess parties and Barbies. And, while I know I can get our girls involved in sports too (thanks to Title IX!), I know it’s not likely they'll ever play football.

While I'll always mourn the son I'll never have (at least until our girls get married someday), I do understand that it is truly a blessing to parent any child no matter the gender. That's why I’ll no longer ponder the question, why all girls? I realize now that I was chosen to mother all girls -- and those reasons will become crystal clear to me throughout the next 18 years of their lives. Not discounting the two precious, love bugs I already have, I am sure three will be a privilege.