Camper

Girl Power

I wanted a little girl.  I've spent the last four years trying to sugar coat that reality a little so I wouldn't hurt feelings or offend anyone but now that I've got my little girl and I'm done having kids - screw it! I wanted a little girl. And from the get go I just knew I was having a little girl. I didn't want a little boy. The day Adam finally caved and told me to call the doctor and find out what we were having I sat on hold thinking "If this nurse tells me my baby is a boy I'm going to lose it. I'm going to be hysterical. I don't want a boy!" Now, before folks start wanting to preach to me about sex not being important - can it.  I know I would have ultimately loved a son and been happy with his healthy birth and so on. But damn it - I wanted a girl!

Why? Not because I love pink (it's actually one of my least favorite colors).  Not because I loved playing dress-up and baby dolls and house so much when I was little that I couldn't wait to do the same things with a daughter.  Truth is - I was a tomboy.  I played He-Man and climbed trees and played in the creek.  Campbell already owns five times as many Barbies as I did since my Barbie collection never topped two. Yes, two.  

I wanted a little girl because I think this is an important and exciting time to raise a little girl. For the first time I think a parent can look at a little girl and tell them they can be anything they want to be and it's really true. Women have broken into almost every traditionally male work environment out there. But the really exciting part of raising a little girl is recognizing that while these doors are opening - if this next generation of girls isn't raised in such a way that they can take advantage of all the opportunities out there, then a lot of doors will start swinging closed again.  That's why I wanted a little girl. I think this world needs more women serving in government, I think we need more women sitting in robes behind benches, I think we need more women wearing lab coats and playing with petri dishes all day.  

I think the key to solving a lot of our world's problems depend on women finally staking claim to an equal place in this world. And not just because we're more compassionate - though yes, this world needs more compassion in it's leaders.  We need more women because without fully engaging women we are wasting half of our human capital. We can't make the world better and solve our problems or find peace or cure disease with half of the population sitting out the game. 

If you're a stay at home mom please keep reading - don't just cuss at me and move on to a different website.  I'm not saying all women should work or women who don't work don't count or anything remotely close to that.  Campbell is a far bigger girly girl than I ever was.  She already dreams of the day she'll have a daughter of her own, where as I was adamant as late as my senior year in college that I would never have kids.  So Campbell may grow up and decide to leave the workforce when has kids and I will support that choice.  But I want it to be a hard choice - not because of finances or the need to keep a second retirement plan or health insurance, etc.  I want it to be a hard choice because up until she got pregnant Campbell was blazing a trail to the top in a profession she loved where she thought she was making a difference.  Then if walking away to raise a child is more important she'll be making that choice knowing that she made it for the right reasons not because she felt guilty going to work and "punching a time clock" when she "should" have been at home. 

And if she chooses to continue working . . . well then she will be able to kiss her kids goodbye knowing that she is going to work to truly make a difference and make the world a better place in her own way.I think, sadly, most women don't make the choice to work or stay home in this kind of environment. Why? Because for all our advancements in education and entry-level workplace statistics, women still don't blaze trails anywhere near on par to men. It's not because we're less capable or less intelligent.  It's because society is still learning to raise girls who can go to work and kick ass and still be respected and liked and then still come home and snuggle their kids and play Barbie.  Right now, all too often, a women has to askew femininity to be successful professionally. She has to be one of the guys and leave being a woman far enough behind that the guys at work see her as a guy - otherwise she's a bitch. And all too often, making those kind of transitions leave women either forfeiting the right/desire to have kids or forces them to adopt a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde lifestyle where they're one thing at work and another at home.

That's why I wanted a little girl. I know without a doubt parenting is the hardest job out there. I also have no doubt that raising a little girl who can help this next generation finally smash through those glass ceilings is going to be even harder.  I don't know if I'm up to the challenge, I don't have some perfectly hatched plan.  I just know I want to take my best shot at it.  

All of this is very long-winded way of saying - watch this video!  Whether you're raising a girl, too or you have a passel of little boys - watch this video. It's clip of Sheryl Sandberg (COO of Facebook) discussing why we have too few women leaders. It's eye-opening and thought provoking and has an important message for all women. And, in large part sums up the challenges ahead that made me so desperately want a little girl. 

The whole video is fabulous but as a teaser I will leave you with this - my favorite line:

"I want my daughter to have the choice to not just succeed but to be liked for her accomplishments."

K

The morning after

I feel I should follow-up on last night's post a little.  A lot of thoughts and emotions went through me when I walked into the house last night to find my child so insufficiently clad.

Disbelief: "There is no way my child wore that into the world today!"  

Anger: "What in the hell possessed my husband to do that?!"

Guilt: "This is what happens when Mommy isn't around."

The disbelief doesn't really warrant discussion because it's understandable and was quickly replaced when Campbell immediately shattered my fragile hope that some sort of wardrobe change had ensued after she got home for the day.  

The anger - also completely understandable - needs explanation because I need the therapy of expression to put it past me and because, when it comes down to it, most of the time Adam is a terrific father. As I've pondered (okay fine stewed) over the event I have decided what ticked me off most is the facade of ignorance that my very intelligent husband so readily put on yesterday in agreeing to let my child wear a sleeveless dress in the dead of winter. He knows better.  He's not stupid - he possesses way above average intelligence.  He knows you don't wear sleeveless clothes when it is below freezing outside.  He would never do that.  So why he let himself dress his child thusly is unknown.  But I know he knew better and did it anyway and has been playing dumb since then and there are few things he can do that infuriate me more than playing dumb - not in small measure because when he acts dumb it insinuates that I am equally stupid because I married him.

The guilt is perhaps the most complex and difficult to move past of the three major emotions I felt. As so many working mothers can understand - it sucks letting go of so much influence in and control over your child's life in order to go to work. My typical day sees me leave the house before any of the other three inhabitants are even out of bed. I drive an hour to work, put in a full day and drive an hour back to town.  Many days I then put in a visit at the gym because running is an essential stress relief mechanism if I want to function without being a complete B*^%$ and if I want to sleep at night. Which means that by the time I get home I have roughly two hours a day to spend with my child.  Unfortunately, all too often those are the worst two hours of her day - especially if she didn't nap - because she is getting tired and whiny and when in that state she takes the job of pushing every one of my buttons very seriously. So many days my only time with my daughter is spent taking a lot of very deep breaths and trying to imagine what she feels like and trying not to let frustration be the prevailing mood in my limited and cherished time with her.

And so . . . when I walked in last night to see her skinny little arms (because sometime when I wasn't looking they lost all of their toddler pudginess including the wrist dimple that I so dearly loved) uncovered I was incredulous. Adam knew better, was acting like he didn't and I was pissed. I wasn't there and couldn't dress her myself (yes, I know I have some control issues that is a whole different topic) and I was pissed. While Adam shouldn't have let her go out without sleeves and therefore deserves some rebuking (as he called it), I suspect my guilt played a big role in the level of anger I have harbored for the last 12 hours. 

So, I will forgive Adam because in the end he is a really terrific father whose little girl adores him. After all, the rest of the picture that greeted me was the two of them on either side of our coffee table coloring an over-sized poster.  Campbell was super pumped about the "banner" she was going to present the winner of some race to be held later.  And Adam was lovingly coloring with her even though coloring is not his favorite activity.   He is a really terrific father.

Now all I have to do is figure out how to let myself off the hook . . . 

K

Two going on Thirteen

Let me preface this story by saying, up front, yes I bribe my child sometimes.  I try not to do it in response to bad behavior but sometimes yes I've bribed my child to sit on the potty or, in this instance, to help her make it through a three hour football game. I know there are parents out there that frown on this sort of thing but you know what - you are better parent than me if you can get a two year old to sit through a three hour football game without a little something novel.

For Campbell, her bribe was a sucker.  She's never had one before and was super pumped.  They were small suckers not some giant as big as your head Blow-Pop.  And yes, she had more than one.  But I digress - the point of this post is to laugh at what is in store for me in a few years because I know when she's actually thirteen and the exchanges aren't as cute I will have a much harder time laughing.

The first glimpse of a teenage Campbell came Friday when she insisted on playing in her room with her door closed. Luckily rather than locking me out - I can remember several teenage exchanges with my mother about locked bedroom doors - when I said "Campbell whatcha doin in there?" She poked her head out, said "Who me?" and then responded she was playing. I asked if I could come in and play, too and she gladly admitted me. No theatrics.

At the football game we were behind the stadium walking around to change the scenery some when she spotted kids playing on the large anchor outside the stadium. Campbell wanted to join them - which she couldn't do because it was outside the fence and I didn't have our ticket stub and because she would have gotten clobbered by the teenagers playing on it assuming she didn't fall off and bust her head open.  So, to distract her I told her I had one more sucker in our seats and asked if she wanted to get it.  The following exchange still cracks me up:

Me: "Do you want to go eat the last sucker?"

Campbell: "Yes.  You go get it. I'll stay here."

Me: "Well, honey, you're only two so I'm not leaving you here. We'll go back to our seats."

Campbell: Pause for deep thought "You stay here I'll go get it." (I follow as she starts to walk away - and she notices) "No Mommy! You stay here! I'll go get it."

The Unrestrained Joy of a Child

At what point in our lives do we forget how to just be happy? I consider myself a pretty content and blessed person. I laugh daily and enjoy the little things as much as possible.  But I'd venture to say you would have to go back a long way to find a picture of me where I'm this happy.  It's beautiful!  And so it is a new goal of mine to do whatever I can to keep it within Campbell's ability to be this gleeful for the rest of her life.

Walking a Mile (or three) for Little Shoes

Stories about sick children and babies have always hit me hard. I remember reading a book when I was about 8 about a little girl, Jessica, who died of leukemia. It killed me. But ever since being blessed with the most beautiful and happy little girl the thought of something happening to her makes stories like Jessica's even more heartbreaking to me - I can't imagine anything more devastating and trying in this world than having a sick baby.

So I have started giving more to charities such as St. Jude (How could I not call in and pledge while driving home from work bawling while listening to their phonathon on the radio!?). This Saturday I will be walking with some friends in the local March for Babies to raise money for the March of Dimes. Any help folks out there would like to give to forward this effort would be greatly appreciated and will help some very special little souls. If you have $10 to spare - click those chubby little cheeks below - and thank you!
 

Potty Training - Campbell Style

I think I alluded a few months ago to the fact that we have begun the early stages of potty training at The Smurf. Campbell was showing great interest in sitting on the big girl potty but now not so much.  Which doesn't bother me since she's not even two.  But, in order to keep it on her radar we do ask every day or so when we see the tell-tale glassy eyed expression if she wants to sit on her big girl potty.  We are always met with an adamant "NO" and shaking of the entire upper body.

So, you can imagine my surprise Sunday with the beginning of the following conversation:

Campbell: Glassy-eyed expression

Me: "Campbell do you need to go poo-poo?"

Campbell: "Uhuh . . . Go big girl potty? "

Me: (Hiding my growing excitement) "Do you want to sit on your big girl potty?"

Campbell: "NO! Dollly sit potty!"

Me: "Oh, is Dolly going to sit on the potty with you?"

Campbell: "No, Dolly sit no Campbell"

She scampers off to the bathroom with Dolly in tow. I follow thinking Dolly going potty is an okay first step and to make sure Dolly doesn't end up in the adult potty that has water in it.  I help her sit Dolly on the big girl potty and Campbell claps and is very excited about Dolly going potty and plops down next to her to talk to her while she goes potty. I return to the other room, Campbell soon follows.  Dolly is apparently not done going potty.  About 5 minutes elapsed while I made Campbell a waffle and Adam started taking a shower.  Then Campbell went to check on Daddy.

Campbell: "Daddy shower. Dolly big girl potty."

Adam: "Is Dolly going potty?"

Campbell: "Uhuh. Eat waffle, too."

This is the result of Campbell and Dolly's first potty training lesson. 

I think Coco - of the usually inseparable DollyCoco tandem act - is now living in fear of when her first lesson will start.

Shopaholic

Campbell loves to shop.  She play shops - which entails grabbing her purse and riding her car around the house.  But most of all she loves to shop for real. 

For the last month or so we have been going to Gymboree music class on Saturday mornings.  The last couple of weeks we have gone on a Kroger run right after class.  This week we did not.  But that didn't stop Campbell from repeatedly saying "Shoppin?"  "Kroger?" on the way home.  So, her urge to spend unsatisfied, Sunday morning she walked over - still in her jammers - and leaned on the couch between me and Adam and flashing her most pitiful big brown eyes said "Shoppin?"  I asked if she wanted to go shopping and she said "Put coat on. Go shoppin!"

She clearly runs the roost - and enjoyed herself.  (Notice her purse in the pint sized cart.)

Bubbles!

Campbell loves her bubbles - In case you haven't discovered it - the Gymboree bubble maker is the bomb!  It makes little bitty bubbles that will fill any room and last for hours - days even - literally!

 

I'll stick with fake Santas, thank you very much

Last night we celebrated PeePaw's 60th birthday with a trip to the Melting Pot (YUM!) and the Christmas light exhibit at the Kentucky Horse Park.  The lights were a big hit.  There were many excited ooohs and aaaahs and squeals coming from the backseat. Near the end of the light exhibit we stopped at the indoor attractions - a petting zoo, craft booths, a miniature train to ride and, yes, Santa.

Luckily we were one of the first to arrive so the line to see Santa was not very long. As we waiting Campbell jittered and squirmed determined to get down. I kept asking if she wanted to say hi to Santa and she very emphatically said "Uh huh" as she squirmed.  But, as Mom and I predicted, when we got to Santa Campbell wanted no part of him.  She was absolutely not letting go of me and, well . . . . a picture really is worth a thousand words.  The eyes alone say it all!

Apparently Santa is more fun when he doesn't move and breath and  you can lug him around on your shoulder.

Santa Got Run Over by a Red Car

I survived my week in Omaha . . . No offense to anyone who lives there but I have no intention of ever going back.  Not so much anything against the city as the fact that I had to spend a week away from Campbell in order to staff a poorly attended Annual Meeting . . .

But I am home. After reuniting with my baby and reading Wibbly Pig more times than I can count I am also back in the office.  Back to the old grind.  Though with the hectic holiday season I actually only have six more days in said office before leaving for a two week holiday break.  Gotta love December.

Speaking of the holidays, Campbell is very much enjoying playing with Santa - as I reported last time.  I  don't think she's grasped that Santa brings presents so her enthusiasm will only grow as that realization dawns.  But she gleefully exclaims "Santa!" every time she sees one. Yesterday she got into the holiday spirit by wearing a gift bow on her head.  The picture is not the best as it was taken on Adam's iphone but it is still adorable.

This was taken, incidentally, shortly after Santa was accidentally run over by the car.  Campbell immediately administered sugars for his booboo so all is well and Christmas Eve is not in jeopardy!

Footnote:  Here is a much better photo of the super fancy hairbow! Thanks Dotdot!