New Jersey Moms Blog

My New Top 40 Minus Ryan Seacrest

I have always tried to keep up with the "latest" music.  While I wouldn't consider myself a music aficionado, I would say I have always tried to listen to a wide variety of music and stay in tune with who the "it" artist is at any given time.  Enter my two-and-a-half year old and my music tastes have undergone a lobotomy over the last year.  I have went from singing along to Beyonce about man troubles to singing along with Laurie Berkner about family gatherings. 

When my son Benjamin was a baby, I played the occasional classical music (you know, to help make him a baby genius) but for the most part I played what I wanted to listen to including lots of top 40 hits and 70's disco classics and my son seemed to be fine with my choices.  As time went on and Ben became a bit antsier in the backseat, I started to play child-friendly music to make his journey in the car more enjoyable.  The result: any musical pleasure I used to enjoy has gone out the driver's side window along with my CD collection.  It all started one fateful day when I purchased the Cars soundtrack...

Pardon me, is your child a boy or a girl?

Last week, I was faced with one of those situations where I couldn't figure out if a child was a boy or a girl.  The child had long, bouncy blonde hair like a girl.  His or her toddler face could be either - both pretty and handsome.  The child was dressed in a boy-like outfit but the child's name was Skylar.  Before I could get a text response from a number of friends asking the question, "could a boy be named Skylar", my two-year old had decided that this child was a girl.  "Mommy, can I play with the little girl?"  Still not knowing and fearing he had made the wrong gender choice, I ushered my son to another section of the children's museum we were visiting.  I later found out that yes a boy can be named Skylar but spelled Skyler and that indeed this child was a boy.  The situation got me to thinking, should children be called by androgynous names? Should parents bestow on children names like Payton and Dylan that can cause a world a confusion throughout their lives?

When I was pregnant, my husband and I decided that we would not find out the sex of the baby until he or she was born.  So of course that meant making a list of names for both boys and girls.  At the time, one of our absolute favorite names for a girl was Riley.  Miracle of all miracles we both agreed on this name.  However, as time went on and we let the name marinate in our minds, we both came to the conclusion that Riley might not be the best choice of names for gender bender-reasoning.  In my mind, I thought of having my baby girl Riley in my arms in a gender neutral onesie and someone saying, "what a cute little boy!" and me regretting the choice of names.  Though, I do know that "what a cute baby girl, when it was a boy" situations have happened to everyone, I just didn't want to perpetuate the situation for this child I was bringing into the world.  I also know how angry people get when you call a child by the wrong gender.  So lucky for my husband and I, we didn't have to worry about making that decision we had a boy and named him a very male name - Benjamin. 

One Mom's (Guilt) Trip to Find the Right Daycare

"Mommy I was crying for you," said my son Benjamin.

"I know Benjamin I was crying for you too," said me.

Next, remove heart and stomp on it.

And so has begun the ultimate guilt trip for this working mom, putting my 2 year old in day care for the very first time. 

Ironically enough, the trip started about three weeks ago on an another trip this time the "girl's" weekend trip. My Mom, also known as Benjamin's caregiver, called to inform me that with a heavy (and guilty heart as well) she had accepted a new job and would no longer be able to watch Benjamin.  What happened after the call is a bit of a blur.  My friends rallied around me and told me it would be "okay" but it didn't feel that way.  It felt like I was an inadequate, part-time not deserving of having this precious gift of motherhood Mom.  I immediately called my husband to inform him, who was just as flabbergasted as I was - maybe even more so.  However, in the end, we couldn't be angry with my Mom.  She needed to think about finding a job that provided health insurance, something we couldn't, in anticipation of my Dad going on permanent disability.  I also couldn't be mad.  How could I be mad at the person who has saved me from feelings of "mom guilt" and who has ultimately helped me raise my son? It just wasn't possible to be mad, but I sure had a lot of other feelings that came pouring out during the next three weeks. 

Beach Etiquette

Living in New Jersey all my life, many a day has been spent down at the Jersey Shore. Before having my son Benjamin, I would plant a beach chair in the sand, slather on some sunscreen, open a good book and just relax.  However, every now and then my daydreaming would be interrupted by some misbehaved child whose parents didn't understand proper beach etiquette.  

As I would sit on the beach, after having had an incident happen like a beach ball thrown at my head by some overzealous five year old, I would say to myself, "if I ever have my own child things like this won't happen - not with my kid."  After a recent visit to the beach with Benjamin, I got a cold smack of reality in the face and realized teaching beach etiquette isn't so easy. 

For starters, Benjamin tore on the beach and hopped right into someone else's baby pool.  Not only did he dive into another child's blow-up pool, he also brought enough sand with him to fill a sandbox.  After scooping Ben up, reprimanding him for his blatant disregard of beach etiquette and saying enough apologies to last a lifetime, Benjamin started to wreak havoc in a new location.  This time, he was playing with another child's sand toys.  I pleaded with Benjamin to give me a chance to unpack his things, but add some sand and sun, and my otherwise patient, well-behaved child became Ben-zilla.  The mother whose child's toys they were, who also happens to be family member, tells me it is more than okay for Ben to play with her children's toys.  Because I am now losing patience quickly, I lash out at the mother who was just trying to be nice and say something about how her children get upset when my son plays with their toys so he can just wait and play with his own.  Rightly so, she talked about me behind my back for the rest of the day. 

Why I Blog

Besides being a full-time Mom, I am also a full-time public relations executive.  As the resident "mommy blogger" at the agency, I am often asked questions concerning blogger relations.  Questions like "would you like to attend this event?,"  "is this product review compelling enough?,"  and "would you consider doing a product giveaway on this product?"  I always answer the best way I can, but truth be told I am probably not the best person to ask these questions they are better off asking the other resident mommy blogger who is WAY more influential than I ever will hope to be.  Yes, I will admit it I am not the most popular blogger.  I am not even sure what my VPM (viewership per month) is or if I really want to know.  My personal site isn't very fancy.  In fact, it is the standard polka-dot design on blogger.com.  Not very original but I like it.  I also don't have advertising on my site - not sure if I could convince a marketer to do so.  And here is my biggest confession, I have never done a giveaway.  Nope, not one.  I guess I'm not considered an influencer.  While these truths are a little humbling for me to admit, I still continue to blog. 

Why is it that children get all the praise when potty training?

Why is it that children get all the praise when potty training?  New toys are awarded by grandparents for potty prowess.  Spontaneous outbursts of cheers can be heard in bathrooms across America when a toddler relieves themselves on the toilet.  High fives are handed out like they are going out of style when number two is found in the potty and not in the diaper.  Admiration is constantly bestowed on the potty goer but what about the actual trainer?  When do I get my share of the praise?  When will someone tell me "good job"? 

Don't get me wrong.  My son is doing a stellar job at this potty-thing, but how do you think he got to be so good? It wasn't like a potty training fairy came down from above and with one wave of her magic toilet bowl brush my child was diaper free. While that fantasy would have been nice, very nice actually, it is just that -- a fantasy.  Nor did my son just wake up one day and say, "hey, Mom and Dad these diapers are so pedestrian, so beneath me. Next time, you are at the store pick me up some big boy underwear - I am so over diapers," and with that turned on his heel headed to the bathroom with a copy of War and Peace. No, not that either.  How my son got to his mighty throne is from the blood, sweat and tears my husband and I have put in to make him the Potty King.  While I am not looking for a shiny, new toy truck for my hard work, I am looking for a little acknowledgment when I am cleaning the poop up from the bathroom floor that has missed the toilet completely.  I think I at least deserve a pat on the back after that humbling task. 

The Day I Realized Parents Don't Live Forever

When I was a kid, it never even crossed my mind that my parents wouldn't be here one day.  Like most, in my childhood days,I saw my parents as invincible, untouchable, protectors of the (and my) universe.  My younger-than-most parents would live forever, right? 

In my teens, I got my first dose of reality when a friend's mother passed away.  Her mother died suddenly one evening of a heart problem.  When I attended the wake, I felt as if I was playing a role in movie of the "supportive friend".  It seemed to unreal to be real.  During that evening, I put on a brave face and held my friend in my lap as she cried but my thoughts weren't about her mother they were about mine. Later that evening as I collapsed into the lap of my Mom, I cried for all that was lost that day.  As my mother's arms encircled me, I was confident that my mother would always be there.  In my still youthful innocence, I continued to believe in my parents' eternalness. 

Should I Feel Guilty For My Childless Vacation?

My name is Jennifer and I enjoyed my childless vacation.  This is my story...

For as long as I can remember, I have loved to travel.  Whether it be down the Jersey Shore for a lazy week at the beach or exploring the cobblestone streets of Florence, there hasn't been a vacation I've met that I haven't loved.  Even the journeys with lots of mishaps and outright mayhem, like getting apprehended in Prague for riding the subway for free (so much for honoring the honor system) and breaking an antique bed in Block Island, have gained me some of my favorite and funniest memories.  So when my son Benjamin came into this world, I made my husband promise me we wouldn't stop traveling with or without Ben. 

My husband Wally has made good on his promise.  In Ben's two short years of life, we've taken him to Maine, North Carolina and the Jersey Shore with little to no trouble.  However, when it came time to book a trip to celebrate our 10th Anniversary Wally started to hedge on his promise.  Feelings of guilt started to creep in and he suggested that we take a weekend trip to Vermont with our son instead of a romantic rendezvous in Italy.  This mom, wife, anniversary celebrator and traveler was not okay with that suggestion.  Instead of the joy I find in planning a vacation, I found myself crying big giant tears and asking my husband, "what happened to us? why are you making me feel guilty for wanting to go away alone with my you?"   

Can I Ask Apple, What Were You Thinking?

Dear Apple,

I thought I might have been hallucinating this morning when I was watching the news but low and behold I was not.  Some how, some way your company approved (oh yes let me be fair...then pulled) an application for the iPhone that allows you to shake a baby to a virtual death or the "Baby Shaker" app as it is fondly referred to.  Even writing this can you believe the colossal mistake you made?  Normally, I think you are a pretty alright company - one of the "good guys" if you will - but after this debacle I'm not really sure what to think. 

Can you give me a little insight into how this came about?  Were you sitting around a room considering new apps and your team started proposing programs like:  "Decaying Animal Gallery" and "Run Over Old Ladies' Skills Game."  Did you say, "no way how could we ever promote an application that would show dead animals or an opportunity to run over old ladies crossing the street that is completely insensitive and insane, but shaking babies to a death this I LIKE! Tell me more..."

The Real Housewives of New Jersey...Fuggadaboutit

When I hit my thirties my bed time started to get earlier and earlier, now throw in a 2 year old and demanding PR job, I never get to watch the late shows anymore.  However, I made myself and husband to stay up until 11 and watch the sneak peek of The Real Housewives of New Jersey.  How could I resist my biggest guilty pleasure - reality TV - combined with my favorite state - NJ?  Talk about special occasions!  No matter what I had to do that night, this "real housewife of NJ" was watching her some trashy TV.  While not disappointed one bit by what looks to be the best Real series yet, I want to make sure anyone living outside of New Jersey gets a few things straight about Garden State Girls.

First, we aren't all Italian.  While yes many of us do come claim roots in the boot-shaped country, including myself, we don't all have grandparents we call Nonna and Nonno.  In fact, New Jersey is a real melting pot of cultures.  On any given day, walking through a town in New Jersey, you can find people with ties to China, India, Russia and yes Italy.