Orange County Moms Blog

Silicon Valley Moms Group Acquired By Technorati Media

2010-11-16T01:11:48-08:00

Reports of our demise, as the saying goes, were premature. The Silicon Valley Moms Group of sister sites is taking up residence in a new location. Look for that great timely, opinionated, poignant, and sometimes just plain funny parenting content you're used to seeing on this site over at The Women's Channel at Technorati. After 6 great years of blogging here, we've moved to a new home.

Fondly,

Jill Asher, Beth Blecherman & Tekla Nee

Co-Founders, Silicon Valley Moms Group

The Trauma of Childhood Sports

2010-06-25T02:00:00-07:00

We had a little crisis this week. My five-year-old son Jafta has been begging to attend a basketball camp for the past three months, and I signed him up for one through our city for preschool-aged kids. All summer, he's been asking about it and counting down to when it would start. It was supposed to start Monday. On Saturday, I got a call telling me it had been canceled.

I found myself with two options:
1) completely crush my son and have him mope about it endlessly until the next camp starts IN OCTOBER
2) lie omit information about his age and enroll him in a camp running this week for kids age 6-8

Which one do you think I did?

Growing up in a family that didn't really do sports, I am having a long and rocky learning curve as I navigate the role of "sports mom". I would like to pretend that it's just a new cultural experience for me, but the reality is that athletics have always brought up deep insecurities for me. And as any parent knows, having a child basically means watching your own fears and insecurities walk around outside your body.

Like when you drop your son off and watch him roam aimlessly through the gym, clearly self-conscious about being the new kid, looking for a friend or something to do and seemingly unsure of where to even put his hands as he looks for a familiar face.

Like when you see him find the few kids he knows, and he runs to them, but then he walks away because they seem engaged and he seems intimidated.

Like when you observe that just because your four-year-old looks old enough to pass for a K-2 student, doesn’t mean he can keep up athletically. There is a vast difference of skill level between your child and the other kids, and you know that he notices, too. Only he doesn’t understand that it’s an age/motor development issue. He just knows he can’t do things as well as everyone else.

Or when, on the first day, you don't send him with snack money because you don't know that they break for snack halfway through, so he sits and watches other kids eat and then can't recover for the second half of the day. Not because he was desperately hungry, but because he was left out.

When, after the first day, he requests to play football instead, and you remember that after his first day of baseball he requested to play basketball instead. And you know that he’s really just hoping that, in a new sport, he will be automatically as skilled as he hopes and imagines himself to be. And you know that he’s disappointed that he is not.

When, on the way home, your son mentions that maybe next time he could play basketball without any of his friends being there, because having his (older) friends there makes him feel embarrassed.

When you know that one reason he was drawn to basketball is because he has noticed that basketball players tend to look more like him, and then you take him to a camp of over 100 students, and still none of them look like him. And you know that he is keenly aware of this, too.

When you come to watch at the end, and he sees you and tries even harder to make that basket, and he can’t. So then he pretends to be hurt so that he can be rescued from trying.

When you give him a little more grace than usual about fibbing in the car ride home, because you know that he didn't make fifteen baskets, but he earnestly wishes that he did.

When, every day that you pick him up, you see his face fall when the Camper of the Day is announced and it is not him. And even though you know that each child will get a turn, you also know that to your sensitive son, being the last one to get this recognition is brutal.

And when he finally does get Camper of the Day, and after his name is called and he gets his treat, he disrupts the whole ceremony by running full-speed out of his line and into your arms, and your heart breaks into a million pieces that he's not at all embarrassed to show how proud he is and how much he wants you to be proud, too.

And when you realize that none of this really has anything at all to do with sports, and everything to do with the inevitable beauty and pain that is part of growing up. And that there is nothing you can do but cheer him on.

This is an original Orange County Moms Blog post.

Kristen blogs at Rage Against the Minivan.

Girl in Translation by Jean Kwok: A SV Moms Group Book Club

2010-06-23T01:00:00-07:00

Transplanted from Hong Kong to New York City as a (very poor) young girl with her mother, Ah-Kim or Kimberley, struggled to make things better for her family, to learn English, to walk the line between traditional Chinese duties and the Americanized teenager she grew into. Join us today as we discuss the book Girl in Translation by Jean Kwok.

Here are what the SV Moms Group contributors ave to say today, all inspired by the book Girl in Translation:

Marinka from Motherhood in NYC tells her immigration story in America, Baby
Pamela from 2 Much Testosterone felt empowered
Emily from Mama Sick has hope for her son
Sharon from Channeling Ricky recognizes her own childhood embarrassment
Vanessa from Chefdruck Musings goes for a taste of America
April from It's All About Balance is a girl in gratitude
Emily Paster from West of the Loop examines secrets below the surface
Melanie from tales from the crib just wanted to fit in
Elena from Cara Mamma reflects on dreaming big
Lisa H. from Hannemaniacs has aunts just like Aunt Paula
Alma from Marketing Mommy had culture shock
Kristine from Mommy Needs Therapy or a Bottle of Wine was moved by the reality of immigrants who come to the U.S. for a "better" life
Rox from Rox and Roll has thoughts about honor
Julie from Just Precious opens her eyes in her own neighborhood
Jen B from Anybody Want A Peanut? tries to translate autism

Silicon Valley Moms Blog is hosting the book club discussion this month. Please leave a comment here to join in the discussion.

Past SV Moms Group Book Clubs have included:

I am Nujood, Aged 10 and Divorced by Nujood Ali
The Body Scoop for Girls by Dr. Jennifer Ashton
Just Let Me Lie Down by Kristin van Ogtrop, Editor of REAL SIMPLE magazine
National Geographic's Green Guide Families by Catherine Zandonella
Top 100 Finger Foods and Top 100 Baby Purees by Annabel Karmel
The Possibility of Everything by Hope Edelman
The Mominatrix's Guide to Sex by Kristen Chase
Coco Chanel & Igr Stravinsky by Chris Greenhalgh
See Mom Run by Beth Feldman
Close Encounters of the Third-Grade Kind by Phillip Done
This is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Topper
Do One Nice Thing by Debbie Tenzer
Birth Day by Mark Sloan, M.D.
What Happened to the Girl I Married? by Michael Miller
Testimony by Anita Shreve
Comfort Food by Kate Jacobs
Much to Your Chagrin by Suzanne Guilette
It Started with Pop-Tarts by Lori Hanson
Who By Fire by Diana Spechler
The White Trash Moms Handbook by Michelle Lamar
Writing Motherhood by Lisa Garrigues
The Vaccine Book by Dr. Robert W. Sears
The Other Mother by Gwendolen Gross

Click here to read all about the SV Moms Group Book Club.

My Babies are Growing Up!

2010-06-13T05:00:00-07:00

Being a Mom of two boys is a never-ending source of entertainment. Ten years ago no one had heard of iPods, iPads, iPhones or other silly things, but now those words are common.

We were out and about running errands in the car when I heard my oldest began to tell my youngest a joke:

Hey Kyle?

What?

How do you spell iCup?

It only took him a minute to start spelling out i...C...u...p... (Are you laughing yet?)

The car was suddenly full of laughter. I was laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes. Of course the same joke was re-told about 50 more times. Yes, including to the couple in line behind us while waiting for Space Mountain at Disneyland last week.

My life has really changed being a mother of not just one, but two active boys. No butterflies, Barbie's or pink anything around our house. Instead it's roller coasters, Lego's and video games. My boys have brought out the adventurous side in me and I love it. But, my little babies aren't babies anymore and it is becoming harder to ignore every day.

Just the other day Brett (un-prompted) opened the driver's side door for me as we were heading to school in the morning. This is the same little boy who at age three stood there holding the door open for a woman coming in to a coffee store and was shattered when she didn't even acknowledge him, let alone utter a, "Thank You".

I just hope that as they get older my boys maintain their manners and compassion. (And yes... I am already anxious to be sure that one day my boys find someone that appreciates those same qualities and doesn't take them for granted.)

When she's not riding roller coasters, playing video games, or building 1500 piece lego sets with the kids you can find Katie posting over at OCMomActivities where you'll find Mom-isms, cool giveaways, cost saving shortcuts to being a mom and find out about fun activities in and around Orange County, CA. You can also follow Katie on Twitter or become a fan on Facebook

Gun Control (the mom you want to be, and the mom you are)

2010-06-11T02:13:00-07:00

I spend a lot of time pondering the disparity betweenthe mom I though I would be, and the mom I am. I was such a good mom before having kids. I had dreams of my children playing with quaint wooden toys, learning piano at a young age, and having picnics in meadows (eating only organic food, of course). Somehow my reality of motherhood involved a lot more plastic, McDonalds, and trips to Target than I ever imagined. That meadow picnic? Yeah, that's never happened.

Also in my dreams of motherhood, our home would be free of toys that represent weapons. My oldest was a boy - but I imagined that somehow, with careful guidance, I could free him from the gender expectations that give way to a desire for violent objects. Unfortunately, no one warned me that a predilection for destruction seems to be coded in the DNA. Despite providing my son Jafta with a playroom full of peaceful, docile toys, he seems to be drawn only to things that produce explosions, loud noises, or (best yet), wounds of the flesh. He was begging for a sword by the time he could talk. Once he got wind of this light-saber business, everything in the house (paper towel roll, umbrella, drumstick) was brandished as a light-saber. And now, despite the fact that he's never seen a movie much darker than Stuart Little, he is totally and utterly obsessed with guns.

I blame this on the tawdry influence of some of his older, more worldy friends. (The friends in question actually being the children of our pastor and one of the church elders. So, you know, unseemly influences). These friends have given in to the obsession and allow their kids to play with pretend guns, and on more than one occasion we've been on a playdate where he has observed these kids gleefully chasing each other with said toy guns, whereby I scramble to distract him with some benign fire truck or other object that seems incredibly boring in comparison to A GUN! A GUN! I'M FIVE AND I WANNA PLAY GUNS!

I finally confessed my concerns to one of the other mothers, who is the mom of several kids older than my own. She laughed knowingly, and patted my shoulder, and said, "Oh, that's right. Jafta's your oldest. I remember feeling that way, too. But now that I've watched three boys go through this stuff, I gotta tell ya: you're fighting a losing battle. All boys want to play with guns. You can do everything you can to outlaw it, and they will make a gun out of a stick. Just let it go."

I suspected she might be right, but I was sticking to my guns (or lack thereof). At this particular playdate, I encouraged Jafta to find other things to play with, as he stared longingly at the other, seemingly cooler kids as they ran and chased and rendered each other dead. I tried to distract him with Legos and trains. He stared longingly as every other boy ran by, brandishing a weapon. He also spent the playdate alone - excluded because his mom wouldn't let him engage in what everyone else was doing. I left the playdate questioning my judgement. Jafta left the playdate devastated.

A few weeks later, we went to another playdate with the same group of boys. As soon as we arrived, I could see that the other boys were enraptured in another game of gun play. Jafta looked forlorn, and I had a little moment where I decided that my value for Jafta being included with his peers was more important than my rule about guns. I told Jafta to go get a gun, and start running. He looked at me like I was crazy. And then I heard myself saying, "Seriously, Jafta. You can do it. Go get yourself one of those guns. Get it! And RUN!!"

And as those words I never thought I would utter came out of my mouth, I reminded myself that parenting is not predictable. I have to be willing to change, to reconsider, and to budge a little. I watched Jafta look confused, and then hesitant, and then I saw a huge grin break out on his face as he joined in with the other kids. He had a great playdate, and he felt included.

We still have a no-gun policy at our own house. Although, he seems to be working his way around it.

This is an original Orange County Moms Blog post. Kristen blogs at Rage Against the Minivan.

WARNING: Hormones at Play!

2010-06-10T05:00:00-07:00

Why is it that pregnancy just doesn't seem to bring the best out of women? Between weight gain, a huge belly, skin issues, tears over Hallmark commercials and the ending of Disney movies, and excess perspiration we also get to deal with raging hormones worse than what we experienced in our teenage years. Ah, the joys of growing a child!

I have to admit that I'm at the point in my pregnancy where for the most part I feel as if I'm functioning rather normal (as long as I get some sleep at night). But there are certain things that really set me off. Certain things that have an automatic Panic Button deployment that I feel so out of control on.

How do I explain this to people?

I'm not normally too crazy. But let's face it, I do get a little nutty at times- which I attribute more to my lifestyle of wearing far too many hats, and my lack of ability to say "no" to taking on far too much. Recently there was an incident when a certain person in my life gave me information that just pushed me over the edge. I essentially took the information to be perceived as pressure on me, and then put undue pressure on other people. I panicked. A lot.

If I wasn't pregnant, I'm fairly certain I would have been able to take a step backwards and examine the situation more closely before reacting. Because I'm pregnant it seems that everything becomes fight rather than flight, which is certainly not good for me!

It's rather not cool in my opinion to just scapegoat everything I do on me being pregnant. Because after all, I'm still me... just a "heightened" version of myself! But I was thinking, instead of a Panic Button could I have a Mute Button instead?

Jenny K. is a mother of two little boys, with a baby girl arriving in August. She enjoys not panicking when she's not too busy panicking. You can also follow Jenny K. at her personal blog, or tweet with her on Twitter.

Welcome to Catalog-Land. Now go change your shirt so you match the sofa.

2010-06-09T05:00:00-07:00

Everywhere I look I can see a little stack of catalogs in my home. In the family room, the office, the bedroom and yes, the bathroom. Stacks of catalogs for brands and products that vary from craft kits to high-end (read: who the heck can afford this?) poolside furniture. I receive them in the mail nearly everyday. And with their arrival I smile a little inside. I get a sense of excitement about what lies inside their covers. I can not wait to dream over the insanely perfected scenes of home life that real people (people who do not live in catalog-land) can only yearn to achieve, like children's bedrooms with beds made in coordinated themes right down to the toys on the floor.

Sometimes I stop and wonder if any mom out there takes these aspirations all a little too far. I can see the young type-a wife, ordering every product in the photo spread to create the perfect truck-themed room for her toddler, saying "no Robby you can only play with TRUCK toys in your truck room. Robots are for enjoying in the robot themed playroom."

Clearly catalog spreads are meant to entice us with perfection, and help us to believe if we order that coffee table, that bra or that remote controlled floating pool radio... everything will be perfect. As the packages appear on our doorsteps we imagine our homes and lives transformed with their arrival. We open them, sift through the peanut packing and bubble wrap and for a moment we are transported to the world with out carpet stains, dirty dishes and kids yelling 'Mom he hit me!'. For a moment we are relaxing in our French country sitting room reading classic literature while the attentive and handsome husband is off on a bike ride with the children. All children you sent off in coordinated outfits and smiles on their faces. Smiles that have no traces of breakfast and shirts that show no history of their older-sibling-hand-me-down past.

Catalogs serve an important purpose for many of us. They allow our impractical dreams to be tangibly realized, even if only on the pages of these mini sales books. When I sit down to look at my catalogs I imagine stepping into the pages and becoming a skinny mom and wearing a $300 bikini in my beach cottage as I arrange my collection of beach glass and sand shells in my vintage mercury glass bowl, I can feel the comfort of a $200 gel mat beneath my feet as I stand near my copper farm sink in my newly renovated barn home in Aspen. Catalogs also help me realize talents I never before wished I had. As I crack open the pages I suddenly have desires to become an avid gardener, if only to order things like $65 hose guards and $150 bird condos. I yearn to make chef like quality meals in pots and pans that cost more than my first car, all to be served in hand crafted, hand painted- hand everything artisan plates.

Certainly catalogs are the embodiment of our dreams, goals and aspirations. A place to show the ideal, the perfected and the promise of a life well lived. With each gloriously photographed product or room, we reach for our Visa hoping it will bring us one step closer to this far away world called CatalogLand. A land where your visiting neighbor's outfit coordinates with the new sofa, where children's toys and chalkboards are placed artfully through out the family room and a world where it all looks good enough to eat. Like a magical little land of wonder that shows us, with every page what our lives could be and all too often what they are not.

Despite my love of catalogs, I have decided to put myself on the 'do not fly' list to CatalogLand. I have decided this yearning and dreaming to own a reality other than the one I live is no longer productive or healthy for me. Instead of wishing my time away, dreaming about what could have been or still could be, I have decided to focus on embracing the rooms I walk everyday. I want to learn to love my world- with it's imperfections and flaws and stains and all. After all, this is my life. It is a messy un-color-coordinated life full of crooked artwork, broken shower doors and mismatched everything in all its hand-me-down glory. So its not CatalogLand, but that is okay. It is My Land. And I don't have to buy a thing to love it.

This is an original OCMOM Blog post written by Marcy from The Glamorous Life Association. You should stop on by and learn all about her un-catalog worthy, un-glamorous life.

One Year Ago

2010-06-08T05:00:00-07:00

It's been one year since our move to el OC. One whole year. This time last year, the excitement of moving to a new town/city/county was still in the air. Little did I know what a l-o-n-g summer with 3 kids at home would be like. I went through a little depression. I thought I would love being a whole lot closer to my famlilia, and I did (but it took some getting used to!). See, when my hubby and I got married, 12+ years ago, he took me to live in the city that I worked at so I wouldn't have to commute any where(I know, sweet huh?)

Well, we never moved out of that city. Not even out of the little apartment. If you have ever lived in the San Gabriel Valley, you know that its not like any other So Cal city to live in. I totally miss my neighbors! I do! Yes, they were Asians, but I learned to live with them and commute with them and shop with them so much, that one of the hardest thing to get used to here in el OC, is not having a Chinese Market close to me! Still, I make my monthly trips out there to buy groceries that I can't find here.

Since my little familia is a bi-cultural family ( I am Latina, my hubby is Filipino), I felt right at home over there. When I was working, I learned to call the Grandma's "Mama" and the Grandpa's "Papa". In the afternoon, you can see my neighbors getting ready for their daily walks. The older generation, you see the husband walking in front of the wife. This was my city, my barrio, my life. The commotion of living just 15 minutes from L.A. was always loud and busy. People always moving and grooving. My neighbors below us were the best neighbors. They were Latino, and through the years they became my family.

I missed them all. Terribly. I don't think I went out the first few weeks of us living here in Orange County. Everything was so different. It's so quiet. It's so clean. It's so.... OC!

As time went on, I got used to living here. Little by little, I learned the short cuts to the house. Learned my way to and from Disneyland. Explored the many adventures there are, through events that I've been invited to. Then I met amigas. True amigas. My problem was that I didn't have close friends. AT ALL! (I just realized that when I moved). I've met bloggy friends that turned into true blog hermanas. That my friends is something that I am truly grateful for.

My 11yo has had a remarkable change in grades. He is doing SO much better. My 5yo started pre-school, and loves it. My husbands commute was at 45mins.-1 hour long to get home, now he gets home in 20 mins. This change has been for the better, and I am thankful for that (and all of you!).

An original Orange County Moms Blog post.

Liz is a Latina, stay at home Mamí to three kids. You can also find Liz at her personal blog and twitter.

The Work of 'Til Death Do Us Part

2010-06-04T20:24:00-07:00

Cross posted from our sister blog, 50-Something Moms Blog.

In the news this week it was announced that after 40 years of marriage, Al and Tipper Gore were separating. After the round of snorty, churlish jokes about who will get custody of the Internet, people began to comment on the sadness of it all. After 40 years it would seem that a couple would have a lock on a successful marriage, a marriage that withstands the tests of time, a marriage that will last 'til death do us depart. But it seems that this is not the case. In the case of the Gores, it seems that it wasn't a sordid affair or other ilk like that. No, they simply, in their own words, 'grew apart after 40 years together".Over time they had carved out separate lives.

So with the end of what always seemed to be an enduring love story where do we all begin to understand this. It doesn't just make us sad but it makes us a little scared.

Continue reading at our sister blog, 50-Something Moms Blog.

Are children colorblind?

2010-06-03T02:00:00-07:00

My mom loves to reminisce about my childhood – what mom doesn’t? In one of her favorite stories we are sitting around the dinner table and I ask her and my dad with the curious bluntness of a 3 year old “Mommy. Daddy. Are we Chinese?”

For those of you who don’t know what I look like, the picture to the left is me around the time of the “Chinese” question. I couldn’t be more vanilla!!

While my family looks at this childhood quip as hysterical, it also raises the questions – Are children born colorblind? Do they have innate racial biases?

Being a 4th Generation Orange County Gal from the suburbs, my upbringing wasn’t very “colorful.” I was part of the majority, so I can see why I had no clue what being Chinese meant. I’m sure the circumstances would be different for an actual Chinese child in the OC. (But I’m not really sure… thoughts?)

So when does the “I’m different looking than you” thing start? When do the negative stereotypes cement themselves in our kiddos?

In college I taught a Sunday school class of 4-year-olds. I was reading a story to 2 little girls, one African American, the other Caucasian. I remember clearly as the Caucasian girl touched the darker skinned arm and asked, “Why is your skin so brown?” She didn’t have an answer and I’m afraid that my answer of “God makes everyone different” wasn’t cutting it! Her subsequent “whys?” were proof! I remember being shocked that they noticed at 4-years-old.

Last week, my 3-year-old son Eli and I were watching Little Einsteins – you know the show with the perfectly racially rounded cast of politically correct cartoon characters? Our conversation went something like this:

Eli – Hey mommy, do you know which one has the hair high on top of his head?
Me – Which one?
Eli – Leo! Do you know which one has a microphone?
Me – Um… who?
Eli – Annie, Leo’s little sister!
(The remaining two characters are Quincy and June, the African American and Asian cartoons. My mind is racing about how I’m going to explain different races to my 3-year-old. I didn’t read the book for this yet!! I’m not ready… do I say Black or African American?… I don’t even know what nationality June is! Ahhh!)
Eli – Mommy, do you know which one has a hat on his head? And which one likes to dance?
Me – Who?
Eli – Quincy & June!

So I guess I dodged that bullet. My kiddos don’t notice… yet. But when they do I want to be ready!

An original Orange County Moms Blog post.

Ex-fitness fanatic/aerobics instructor, Kara-Noel is the creator of an awesome hat line for infants and toddlers called Eli's Lids. You can find her blogging about creating a whimsy home, motherhood and being the owner of an up-and-coming business over at Eli's Lids the Blog. Visit her latest endeavor MOMday Morning. Prizes are involved... it won't disappoint!!