What's in a name?

Any pregnant woman can tell you that we get the same questions over and over again.

When are you due?

Do you know what you’re having?

Have you decided on a name?

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love pregnancy and babies, and I don’t fault people for asking these questions. I’m sure I’ve asked them to other women tons of times. And it’s not so much that I mind answering them. It’s just that the last one can be kind of tricky.

Everyone has an opinion on what you should name your baby. And some people are not even a little bit shy about sharing their opinion with you. “You want to name your baby what?!” “Have you thought about…?” “How would you spell…?”

I think that giving someone the name that they will have for the rest of his or her life is a really big deal, and it’s not something that I take lightly. But I think that I need to learn my lesson about discussing baby names unless I am prepared for the faces, questions and possible judgments that I may encounter.

Some people thought that it was strange that we kept my daughter’s name virtually secret until she was born, but every time I mention a name for this baby, I am reminded why. So while we may go with another “C” name (not something that was ever planned) or we may name the baby the same name as someone who happens to play a sport somewhere (no, my son was not named after Cole Hamels), I think that for now, we’ll just be happy to call this little guy Baby Tinsley. No one can make a face about that. 

Humble Christmas Brag Letter

I was reading a blog about the "Humble" Christmas Brag Letter and thought that I wanted to write one this year. Now, I did not have the same idea in mind as this person was talking about... or I should say making fun of. I didn't want to write about how wonderful my life is or gush about my perfect children. (I love them, but they have their moments. Haha.) But I did have some things that I wanted to reflect upon and share and thought that this would be a good forum. And because today, 12/12, as some significance to me, I wanted to share it today rather than wait until the end of the year.

Last year, around this time, I had a medical scare. I didn't post about it or share it with a ton of people, because it was personal, and I think I put enough of my business out there as it is, but it was a tough time for me and my family. On 12/12/12, I went in for surgery. One year ago today. It was scary, and we didn't know what was going to happen, but luckily, things went well, and shortly after, we got the call from the doctor that everything was a success. I still worry that something may recur, and I may always have that fear, but after getting a clean bill of health, I know that I have a lot to be thankful for.

I went into 2013 grateful, and not expecting much from the year. I was actually looking forward to it being quiet after my medical scare, a big loss in our family and the birth of our daughter all happening in 2012. I had no idea what we were in store for. 

Earlier this year, both Kevin and I earned promotions at work. After each putting in a few years at our respective jobs, this was a happy reward. In June, we both pushed ourselves physically and mentally to complete a Tough Mudder, arguably the most difficult race on the planet. We finished with a group of over 20 people and now have this accomplishment that we will never forget. That same month, our daughter Chloe turned 1 which of course came way too soon, but we celebrated with a great party at our house (another first for us). The end of the summer saw us taking Cole to preschool for the first time. Another event in our lives coming way too soon, but he loves it and is thriving, and we couldn't be prouder. 

As the fall approached, we were preparing for 2 weddings that would take us away. Kevin's brother, in 

Florida, and Kevin's oldest friend, in Mexico. Having not taken a vacation together since our honeymoon, we were thrilled to be able to have the time and help needed for these trips. Then on October 21st, we received the biggest shock of all when we found out that we were pregnant with our 3rd child. Yes, our 3rd in 4 years! Not only that, but I was already halfway through my pregnancy. This was mind blowing and unexpected and hard for us to wrap our heads around. But whether you believe in a higher being or some kind of destiny, we now know that this baby is meant to be. After the loss of Kevin's brother and not even knowing if we could have any more children after my medical history, this tiny little blessing came to be, and we couldn't be happier and more excited to meet our son in February. 

Now that I've written all of this, maybe it does sound a little braggy or boastful, but like I said, our life isn't perfect. We struggle just like every other family. But what I do know is that we are extremely lucky, too. One year ago today, I didn't know what my fate would be. And today, I was able to hear my son's heartbeat. This Christmas, that is the greatest gift I could have ever hoped for.

Merry Christmas to all!!!

Just a number?

On a couple occasions now, Cole has told me how he is going to be 4 soon and will be too big for me. (I know; break a mother’s heart.) Last night, he was telling me again, and I told him (as I always do) that I don’t want him to grow up. This is how the rest of the conversation went:

Cole- “You want to keep me 3 like this forever?”

Me- “Yes, I love you being 3.”

Cole- “I want to keep you just like you are, too.”

Me- “How old do you think Mommy is?”

Cole (looks at me thoughtfully) - “15?”

Me- “Aww, you’re the best. Close, but actually, you are 3 and Mommy is 33.”

Cole (with big eyes) – “Wow, that’s a lot like all the way to outer space.”

Age perception by a 3 year old.

Career Predictions

One of the ideas that I saw and almost adopted for our first day of school picture was to ask Cole what he wants to be when he grows up. But because I didn't think that my 3 year old knew much about jobs or careers, I decided to skip that.

But of course, we've always wondered what he will be when he grows up. When he was born, we thought that Cole Tinsley sounded like a quarterback's name, and if you throw in his middle name Martin, he could then retire as a Senator. Walking in Philly with him one day as a baby, a drunk homeless man declared our son the future president of the United States. Thank you, sir.

I did have Cole tell me once last year that he wanted to be a doctor. When I asked him what kind, he told me a heart doctor. I'm under no delusions that this kid can yet say, not alone spell, cardiologist, but I appreciate the lofty aspirations.

Now that Cole is more than slightly obsessed with anything sports related and seems to be getting better and better, athletically speaking, his dad likes to tell him that he'll be our retirement one day with some sports career or another. (We can only hope.)

Then tonight at Wawa when he was in a silly and hyper mode, several women remarked on what a happy kid he is, one claiming that he has so much personality that he's going to be mayor someday. I could only think how extremely proud that one would make his politically involved father. And when we got home and it started raining, Cole said, "I knew it was going to rain because I looked out the window!" (Sounds qualified to be a weatherman to me.)

The final prediction Cole made himself. As I was contemplating my 3 year old's future as an all star athlete, politician and meteorologist, I asked him what he wanted to be when he grows up. He shrugged, smiled and replied simply, "Daddy."

1st Day

For those of you who regularly read my blogs (or just know me), I have a tendency to get overemotional about a lot... especially anything dealing with my kids. So yesterday was definitely a tough one for me.

I don't even know if Cole was born yet when we started talking about preschools and where we would one day send him. We always had our number one choice in mind, so the fact that Cole started there yesterday is a crazy reality. I wanted to document our day so that I wouldn't forget my little man's first day of preschool.

Typically, Kevin does drop off on Tuesdays, but because he had a meeting (and I may have begged to take Cole to his first day), I took both kids. On any other day that I do drop off, I find myself running late, in the midst of some kind of chaos, dragging 2 kids and about 10 bags out the front door. Yesterday was no exception, just amplified.

Both kids woke up somewhere between 6:30-7 which is pretty typical for them. They usually don't have breakfast until they get to daycare, but Cole's school doesn't do breakfast, so that was the first twist in the day. (I'd like to thank the inventor of frozen pancakes for the assist here!) Luckily, Chloe is now big enough to sit with her brother, watch tv (my morning babysitter) and eat breakfast. This gave me time to get ready and then get them dressed. At some point during this time, Kevin left for work but gave helped me out by carrying half of the daily bags out to my car and taking out the trash. Huge help!

I had laid out clothes for both kids the night before, but of course Cole's shirt had a stain that I had missed which sent us back to the drawing board with him. He must have been very excited about school because he didn't give me a hard time when I redressed him 3 times. And then he put his shoes on without my asking (this is an every other day battle) and combed his hair (a first). Of course, my mommy OCD had me reaching to smooth his cowlick, but he got upset and told me not to mess it up. Okay, big man.

My goal was to get out the door at 7:30 but knowing that we typically run closer to 8, our 7:40 departure was a pretty big victory. A brief stop out front to take the obligatory "my first day" picture. The next decision to make was who to drop first. We pass Cole's school on the way to daycare but I would pass it again on my way to work. Okay, who is easier to transport in and out. Cole. Done. We'll drop Chloe first. This almost caused a meltdown from the preschooler who just wanted to get there already, but I quickly turned him around with some Mommy psychology.

When we got to daycare, Cole ran in and yelled, "I'm going to Neumann!" Yes, this is one excited kid. Knowing my son so well, the sitter told him to use his listening ears when he gets there. Thank you for that. We dropped Chloe and we were back in the car in just a few minutes.

Knowing that his best friend was going to school with him, Cole found her car as soon as we pulled up and got even more excited. Of course, crazy mom that I am, I wouldn't let him go in until we got a picture in front of the sign for the school (opposite end of the entrance). He luckily obliged and then grabbed my hand (melt my heart) and we went in. Fortunately for Cole (unfortunately for his emotional mother), he found his best friend shortly after entering and forgot about me right away. Well, that didn't take long. I took his book bag over to his hook. Hmm, everyone else just had their spare clothes in a plastic bag. Okay, I did that. I take out the bag, proud of myself for remembering to put his name on it. Mental note that our plastic bag is 5 times the size of the other kids' and I'm already getting a complex. Okay, plastic bag back in the book bag. Arrange it just so on the hook. Put his sleeping bag on the floor under the hook. Okay, now what. Cole is playing. Well, I guess that's good. I find the sign in sheet and initial that I'm dropping him and go to say goodbye.

Okay, here it goes. Be strong, Cole. Be strong, Mommy. I tell him I have to go to work. He continues to play for a few seconds and then says, "okay, I'll kiss you" and plants a big one on me. Good, he still loves me. I head towards the exit, check the lunch menu on the way out (delaying the inevitable) and walk outside. I choke back a few tears but by the time I'm in my car, it's ugly cry time. Oh, man. What is it about this kid that gets me so worked up?

I feel a little better when I get an email from his friend's mom halfway through the day asking if I have their daily schedule with me because she is thinking about what they are doing. Big sigh of relief that I'm not the only one. Note to self to get schedule from hubby that night. Said hubby calls late afternoon to say he can pick up the kids. Usually a big help but I'm a little disappointed that I won't be the first to hear about Cole's day. Luckily, they call me on the way home. The answer to my questions- "Stop! I'm trying to relax!" Um, ouch. We all meet up at home where my now big man asks to play outside with the neighbor's daughter. There it is. One day of preschool and he's grown up and moving on with his life. Of course, he'll always be my little man.

I'm a man!

As a society, I think we expect certain things for each gender. Our boys are supposed to be rough and play sports and our girls are supposed to wear dresses and play with dolls. Right or wrong, these are stereotypes for a reason. Of course, our children aren't born understanding their roles or what gender is or how they are supposed to act, but somehow they learn. (Okay, we know how, but as parents, we can’t help it sometimes.) So while I will try to teach my son to be sensitive and I hope my daughter grows up loving Sunday football, I know that they will inevitably fall into (at least some of) the gender stereotypes. And how do I know? 

Well, you could say it’s already starting.

A few days ago, we were at my parents’ house, and Cole tells his 5 year old (female) cousin who is enjoying a Gatorade that girls aren't allowed to drink Gatorade. Umm, okay.

I took the opportunity to ask him what else girls and boys aren't allowed to do. His answers:

Girls aren't allowed to have cigars.

Girls aren't allowed to go outside (where Cole and Daddy have guy time).

Boys aren't allowed to go to sleep. (Convenient for my nocturnal 3 year old.)

I asked him if there were other things that boys and girls can/can’t do and he said:

“I don’t know; figure it out.”

Appalled, I asked him why he would say that.

“Because I’m a man!”

Well, of course you are. So that is now Cole’s favorite response to everything.

Cole, why did you push your sister?

Because I’m a man.

Cole, can you put your clothes in the hamper?

No, because I’m a man.

Cole, can you get your sister's bottle for me?

You get it. I'm a man.

And the question that gets asked 50 times a day...

Cole, why did you do that?!

I'm a man!

You get the chauvinistic (although still adorable) picture. 

Mommy Time

I recently read another mom's blog about making time for yourself. This mom has 4 young children and has made time to care of her own body and is showing amazing results. Honestly, she is a real inspiration. I know that the struggle of making time is one that a lot of moms deal with. Is it really okay to leave my kids for date night, the gym, or drinks with friends? I'm a full time working mom who already spends over 9 hours a day away from my kids. Most nights, I'm rushing home to feed them dinner and then it's already time for baths and bed. So how can I justify doing anything during my nights and weekends that takes me away from them. As a result, we take our kids almost everywhere we go, I've found myself food shopping at 10:00 at night, and I very rarely work out. But in my rational, I'm-a-person-and-not-just-a-mom mind, I know that mommy time is a good thing. So Friday night, I scheduled a massage for myself. It was amazingly relaxing and so worth it. I ran an errand on my way home and drove the long way with the window down. Yes, I wanted to be home for family time and yes, I felt some guilt for not being there for dinner and for leaving  my 3 year old pouting on the front steps. (Especially when he cried that I was going to take too long. Ugh.) But for my own sanity and that of my husband and children, sometimes this mom does need to get away.

Not happy about Mommy leaving

Perception

Last night, Cole and I were watching tv and he pointed to a Hispanic man and said, “What’s that black boy doing?” I was taken aback and responded, “Who told you he is black?”

“I don’t know”

“Well, what color are you?”

“White.” (Okay, he’s right there.)

“What color is Daddy?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.”

“What color is Mommy?”

“Brown.” (I would have to get a lot tanner for that.)

“What color is Chloe?”

“Pink.” (Aww, so cute.)

So I’m thinking about the perception of a 3 year old and how this funny conversation will make a good status update today. Then this morning, I started to tell Kevin the story, and Cole chimed in.

Tell Daddy what color you are. White. And what color is Daddy. White again.

What color is Mommy? He looks at me and says blue. Hmm, that’s different. And what color is Chloe? 

Pink, no, purple.

I looked down at myself wearing a blue robe and Chloe in her purple pajamas. Then I realized that Kevin was wearing a white shirt and so was Cole. And then I remembered that the man on tv last night had on a black shirt and black pants. So it hits me that my sweet boy wasn’t looking at the color of anyone’s skin but rather at their clothes. What a way to view the world. 

Johns Hopkins

Last night, Cole and I were playing in my room, and he tackled me on my bed and gave me a big kiss. Then he said, "We married!" I laughed and asked him what that meant, but he didn’t seem to know. I pointed to a wedding photo of Kevin and me that hangs above our bed and told him, "That’s when Mommy and Daddy got married." I should have anticipated the next question.

"Where I'm at?"

“You weren’t born yet.”

“But where me?”

“There was no Cole yet.”

“I was at home?”

This went on for a few minutes. Then I explained to Cole (in 3 year old terms) how Mommy and Daddy got married and then they wanted a baby, so we prayed and God put a baby in Mommy’s belly and that baby was Cole. He seemed happy about that explanation and stopped asking questions.

Shortly after, we were watching the Hopkins/Syracuse lacrosse game on DVR. (Cole’s obsession with lacrosse now has us recording college games.) I wanted to find out what he had retained from our conversation, so I said, “Cole, tell Daddy who put you in Mommy’s belly.” His answer…

“Johns Hopkins!”

Letting go

Like many working parents probably feel, we like to spend as much time as we can with our kids at night and on weekends. I wouldn't say that we are necessarily trying to make up for the lost time (although I guess that’s true, too), but we just genuinely like to be with our kids. However, this sometimes causes conflicts in our parenting.  We let them stay up later than we probably should because when you don’t get home with them until 6, it’s hard to put them to bed at 7:30. And Cole probably eats more hot dogs than he should because prepping and making and fighting with him to eat a more elaborate dinner takes time out of playing and cuddling. The other two facets of this: we don’t let our kids go many places without us, and we like to be there whenever they do something for the first time.

So when my mother-in-law asked if she could take Cole to his cousin’s birthday party at a bowling alley, I panicked. But we won’t be there. And he’s never been bowling. So we won’t be with him, and we won’t see him bowl for the first time. Irrational thoughts? Probably. But when it comes to parenting, we can’t always be rational. However, there comes a time and place when we have to set aside our hang-ups as parents and realize that it’s okay to let go. We had plans that night anyway, so it’s not as though we would be home with him. And I knew that he would have fun. So I had to be a big girl and let him go.

He was sick that day which made the whole situation even tougher, but I got him ready and packed his backpack. He definitely wasn't feeling like himself, but we had been building up this day all week, and he was determined to go. I cried a little when it was time to say goodbye and even more after he left. But he had a great time as I knew he would. And we will have many more weekends. And many more firsts. And we can take him bowling for his second time.

My big boy ready to go to the party

Funny Guy

Cole is at the age where he is really developing a sense of humor and the kid seriously cracks me up. I hope to always remember all of these one liners of his and stories he tells me, but as I’m sure I will start to forget them as time goes by, I thought I would blog about some of my recent favorites.

Said to me while in the car one day:

“I’m going to be a witch. A good witch.”

And then:

“I’m going to put you in a trash bag.”

While playing with the Virgin Mary from his Little People Nativity set:

“This is Uncle Sean.”

After I called him out for acting silly:

“I’m not crazy. I’m a man.”

Out of the blue before Christmas:

“I don’t like the holidays.”

Then another day out of the blue:

“I love Mommy. And Daddy. And Chloe. And Elmo. And the holidays.”

His new favorite saying which is a reminder that I have to be careful what I say:

“I’m just like my father.”

And my favorite recent conversation:

We were lying in my bed together, and I was wearing a World Series Phillies shirt. Cole recognizes the P when he sees it, so he said “Phillies!” Then he asked what else it said.

“World Series Champions. 2008,” I told him. “That’s the year Mommy and Daddy got married.”

“Did you wear this or princess?”

Assuming he meant did I wear the shirt or dress like a princess, I replied, “I didn’t have this shirt yet. I dressed like a princess. I’ll show you pictures one day.”

“I already saw them. Daddy showed me.”

“Oh really? Where?”

“On Facebook.”