Best Buy Local - My Shopping Conundrum

Seeing as today is considered the biggest shopping day of the year, I thought this would be the most apperpo day to write about my shopping conundrum, also known as my philosophical see-saw. For those of you that know me, you know that when I was pregnant, I posed a challenge to myself...not to buy a single thing in preparation for B's coming at full price. And I did it! I scoured the internet for sales, special deals, and coupons. I timed my purchases just so I could use 20% off coupons on our biggest items that I bought at that well-known Baby Super Store. I stalked Craigslist for some items and purchased others at our local Kiddy consignment store. Yes, I am a self-admitted bargain shopper. And at the same time, I have some strong (and unwavering, as my husband would say) feelings about quality, safety, ecological consciousness, and supporting local businesses.

Philosophically, I would prefer to buy from mom and pop shops, supporting local people and businesses. When it comes to food, I desire to buy locally grown, organic, unprocessed foods. Hence our plan to join a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) in the coming Spring. I not only feel better about eating those foods and feeding healthy and whole foods to my family, but I also believe in supporting our local economy. I hate that when I look at the tag on just about every baby item, or any item for that matter, it reads, "made in China." Having read one too many articles on human trafficking and modern day slavery (to learn more, check out http://www.freetheslaves.net/), and thus developing an awareness of the hideous working conditions and obscenely low wages paid in most foreign manufacturing plants, it pains me to buy things that are made in those countries. And not to mention the safety concerns that I have with buying toys that are made in China, lead paint and all.

So, herein lies my conundrum, I'm trying to be a value shopper while at the same time, living out my values. This proves to be no easy task. Take the purchase of my stroller, for example. This was probably the biggest baby purchase we made, as all my mom friends had advised me saying, if you're going to splurge on one item, make it your stroller, it'll be your lifeline as a mom. So, that is exactly what I did, I bought myself a B.O.B. stroller and I LOVE, with a capital L-O-V-E it, no regrets. However, when it came to that purchase, on one hand, I really wanted to support my favorite local baby store, Real Baby (http://realbabyinc.com/), with this purchase. On the other hand, there was a 20% off sale on all B.O.B. strollers at the outdoor behemoth, whose name I won't mention, but whose initials rhyme with 'bar see pie!' So, therein lay my dilemma...at "Bar See Pie," I could get 20% off, plus add a hefty amount to my dividend of 10% back on all purchases, that you get for being a member of "Bar See Pie." And at Real Baby, I would have had to pay full price, no bonuses or dividends. What's a mom on a budget to do? With some shame, I must tell you, I bought the stroller at "Bar See Pie." And every so often, I stop in at Real Baby to pick up a baby gift for someone or a toy for Ben, one that is not made in China.

When Ben arrived, I quit my full-time job, so that I could stay at home with him, a decision that I have absolutely no regrets about. I love being home with Ben. And even though I am still working part-time as a therapist with my own counseling practice, it is very part-time, so we basically went from 2 salaries down to one, and that has lead to a severe tightening of the purse strings, if you will. So now, I find myself challenged to stick to an even tighter budget while still trying to hold true to my consumption values. So far, I have to take things on a case by case basis. When it comes to some things, I assuage my thrifty side, and for other things, usually food items or baby toys, I splurge on items that are locally grown or made and that uphold a quality that I can feel good about. I think I found my Utopia in cloth diapers! By using cloth diapers and wipes, I am saving bucket-loads of money, while providing B's bum with quality assurance, and in washing them myself, limiting my contribution to the landfills. But when it comes to most other products, it seems you pay more for the eco-friendly, locally grown, locally made items.

Please know that this post isn't an attempt to mount some kind of moral high horse, but rather my attempt to share with you an authentic struggle that comes in to play nearly every day. So, how do I balance different values and do what's best for my family when it comes to buying. In a nutshell, it's the battle of financial values vs. philosophical ones. And as it turns out, today, on this Black Friday, what's best for my family is to stay home with them and not spend a dime!

For all you moms (and dads) out there that can relate to my conundrum and my Best Buy Local struggle, I'd be curious to hear your thoughts, opinions, and ideas, particularly those related to how you balance your buying philosophies and balance getting the best buy with buying local.

Land of the Free and Home of the Brave

Don't fear, this isn't a political post because this isn't a political blog. But on that note, I am beyond glad that the mid-term election is finally over, and with it a welcomed end to the phone calls, door-to-door solicitations, and the altogether awful attack ads. Can I get an amen? Ok, I've said my piece, on to what this post is really about...

So, I used to be brave, pretty fearless really. In fact, growing up, I probably could have used a much bigger dose of healthy fear. It would have spared me multiple trips to the ER, and my parents, a handsome sum in medical bills. Just to put things into perspective for you, I wouldn't have been allowed to play professional football, ya know, if I were a male and weighed about a 100 more pounds and well, had the talent to play pro-ball. Why? Because I've had 6 concussions. It's true. I have bad dreams about waking up one day, and not being able to remember who I am. So, like I said, in my early years, I could have used a little more fear and a little less "determination!"

But somewhere in my early 30s (that's right, I can't claim the "early" part anymore and not afraid to admit it!), I lost my edge, so to speak. It's almost like I woke up one morning and became a worrier. It was bizzare, seeing as I used to guide backpacking trips, ice-climb, run 24 hour races on dark mountain trails, all without a second thought of the risks I was incurring. And then suddenly, activities like playing ultimate frisbee or flying on an airplane suddenly became infused with fear and a tentativeness that I had never known. Where did this come from, I wondered. Somewhat in jest, I answered myself with, 'maybe from all of those concussions, you fool.' Interestingly enough, this significant change in my worry level correlated with getting married. I suppose it hit home that upon meeting the love of my life, my life didn't just include me anymore, rather I was building a life with another person, a life I need to show up for. I feared both something happening to my husband and something happening to me that would prevent me from getting to live out this life with him. And now, with a baby in the picture, you can only imagine the spike my worry-o-meter has taken.

Growing up, we used to drive to Florida every year to visit my grandparents. When it came to water, my parents referred to me as a fish. I loved to swim, whether it be in a pool, a lake or an ocean, I could spend hours splashing around. On those trips to Florida, I especially loved playing in the waves and sun out at Bathtub Beach on Hutchinson Island. Looking back now, I realize how free I was then. Yes, I was free and brave and uninhibited. And it was awesome. Even as an adult in my 20s, I surfed all the time without fear while living in Costa Rica. But like I said, something changed when I got married and my fear seemed to overtake my freedom. As my hubby can attest, on our honeymoon in Hawaii, I practically made him hold my hand the entire time we were snorkelling.

Recently, we took Ben on his first trip to Florida and we ventured out to that same beach of my childhood where I spent so many hours body-surfing and doing flips in the water. Standing on the beach, looking out at the waves, I found myself in a much different state of mind than when I visited there as a kid. I was wondering about what creatures might be lurking beneath the surface and at the same time, I was annoyed with myself for wondering, wishing I could just dive in. We took Ben down by the water and Tom slowly dipped just his feet into the salty blue water. His lower lip bunched up into that fat little ball that's indicative of an impending cry. And then he let it out, informing us that he didn't so much like the feel of that water. But Tom tried a couple of more times and each time, B seemed to feel a little more at ease, almost reaching the point of smiling.

Then it dawned on me that with Ben being so little, Tom and I would have to take turns going into the water. One of us had to watch Ben while the other one of us traipsed out into the big blue. Umm, that meant that if I was to go into the water, I was going to have to go it alone. I honestly, couldn't believe the fear welling up inside me. I felt like such a wuss. I tip-toed in, glimpsing back over my shoulder at my two favorite guys every 5 seconds. Ankles...knees...waist...deep breath...run back to the shore. "Ok, you can do this, Melissa, go back out there," I said, trying to muster up my courage. And then it hit me, I do not want my son to grow up with a mom who is afraid. I don't want to pass that on to him. Yes, I do hope that he has a little more of the healthy fear than I did growing up, but it's the self-limiting, joy-robbing fear that I'm talking about. Yeah, I definitely don't want him to have that.

I want to teach my son what it means to be brave, to try new things, to live free in the moment. So, I have to model that, right? Which meant, I thought to myself, I have to dive into this ocean right now. So, for the sake of my son, I did it, I dove into the ocean and I played out there for a while, like I used to as a kid. And the fear dissipated, replaced by a feeling of freedom. And I liked it...a lot. So now, I wonder what it looks like to model bravery on a daily basis? I know it means trusting God, his presence and his provision on a moment by moment basis, but how does that flush out? Because I want to model for my son what it means to be brave, not the fake 'I'm such a hero' kind of brave and not the stupid, make life-threatening choices kind of brave of my past, but true bravery. Yes, I want my son to grow up in the land of the free and the home of the brave and I don't just mean the US of A.

The Spa Day Trifecta

That's right, Ben completed his first Spa Day Trifecta today. It all began with a little mani/pedi, aka he got his fingernails and toe nails clipped. I declared this first event a success, seeing as it was completed in less than 30 minutes, with minimal squirmage, and sans blood. I tell you, it takes the precision of a surgeon to trim those little suckers! So, once all the little scratch-makers were trimmed, it was on to the hair removal event. No, it was not of the laser or wax method, just the "mommy on the prowl" method. This method can best be explained as mommy scanning B's hands and feet, with the determination of a search and rescue crew, to locate any of mommy's or Sami's (the dog) hairs gone rogue, both of which pose serious threat of another hair tourniquet (see previous post entitled, "The Hair Tourniquet - Love Deeply, Hold Loosely"). Four little culprits and a mess of toe jam later, all unwanted hairs had been successfully removed from the premises of Ben. On to the next and final event of the trifecta, skin/body treatment, including a soak, wrap, and massage. In case I lost you, we're talking about a bath and snuggle in a warm towel, followed by a little infant massage.

Why take on the trifecta in one day? Maybe I just wanted my little man to be clean and groomed. Or maybe I'm secretly craving a good dose of pampering myself, but since that's not in the budget right now, I sought the next best thing, to pamper my little one. Overall, I dare say Ben enjoyed himself, especially since I didn't clip any skin this time during the "mani/pedi." And B definitely took the gold in this trifecta, seeing as I haven't even showered yet today!

Fragility of the Moment

Moments, they come and they go and with my son, they seem to come and go quite frequently. Some moments go like this, we're playing on the floor, singing songs, shaking colorful rattles, smiling, and laughing away. Between all of the natural love I feel for my son and large amounts of oxytocin (aka the love hormone) pumping through my body, the bonding is beautiful and we're "having a moment." And then "it" happens. I'm really not sure what "it" is, except that in a split second, our "moment" is invaded by a storm of unhappiness. Ben will be in mid-laugh and then suddenly, it turns to a whine, then drifts into an all-out cry. And I find myself internally saying, "whoah, whoah, no, no, no crying, no ruining this moment, this was such a good moment we were having...too late, the moment's over." I don't know what causes Ben's mood to flip so quickly, but it happens nearly every day.

Then of course, there are those moments, albeit rare, when I feel on top of things as a mom. The moment likely occurs late morning, when I've been able to accomplish a number of things, like eating breakfast before 9am, getting us out of the house for a walk or run, then back home for some play time, and managed to get a shower and actually...whoahhhh...b-l-o-w d-r-y my hair, all before noon. I'm feeling good, found my rhythm, on top of it, oh yeah! Then, in a flash, before I can do anything to avoid it, Ben's lil tummy decides to give back his last meal, all over my shirt and just blow-dried hair! Sweet moment of feeling "put together," GONE, just like that!

Recently, I went for a walk with a friend and her baby at a nearby park. It was a beautiful colorado fall day, blue skies, bright sun, crisp air. We had a fantastic walk around the lake and when we got back to the parking lot, I was thinking about how much I was enjoying the day and how I just wanted to be outside all afternoon. That's when I noticed it, dark glass all over the parking lot. I thought to myself, "that stinks for someone," then I look up and realize that that someone was yours truly. Someone had busted the window of my car and stolen my purse (yes it was in the car, but yes it was hidden). The "this is such a beautiful, wonderful day" sentiment quickly left and was replaced with "oh my goodness, I'm here by myself with a hungry 4 month old, there's glass all over his carseat, and I have no idea what to do" thoughts.

The feelings of violation and frustration at having to replace everything in my purse aside, I was struck again by how quickly a mood or a moment can change. And I find that I could spend each beautiful moment imagining what awful or frustrating thing might happen to ruin the moment, but then I'd miss all of those beautiful moments. Moments are fragile. I want to be present in and soak in all of the sweetness of each beautiful moment that comes my way. It may flip on a dime, but if I soak them up right, even the worst things that come my way can't steal the beauty of those moments. So, here's to the small, wonderful moments of each day. May we drink them in while they're in front of us!

Wonder-Full

If I had to pick one adjective to describe Ben right now, it would be wonder-full, as in full of wonder. The wonder is found in his beautiful big blue eyes, in the way he gazes at the people around him, locking his eyes with theirs, drinking in the details of each face, emanating unsatiable curiosity. B recently ventured on his first airplane ride. Yes, we went too. As we walked onto the plane, he was wide-eyed, looking at everyone. And of course, everyone was looking at him too, most likely thinking to themselves, "oh, great, a baby. Please oh please don't let him be sitting by me!" Much to our chagrin, he fed and slept at all of the right times. But what surprised us the most, was the fascination and wonder that filled his eyes while he was awake. He swung his little head back and forth, up and down, to catch a glimpse, rather a stare, at each of the people around him. I wonder what he saw when he looked at them. I wonder what he sees when he looks up at me, eyes fixed on my face.

I can't help but think that all too often, I go through my days checking off one to-do item at a time, failing to truly "see" the strangers all around me, or right in front of me, for that matter. And often times, in the check-out lines or at doc appointments, the interaction is "courteous," a formality really. What am I missing when I fail to truly see people, when I don't take the time to really wonder about a person's day, a person's life, what it's like to walk a day in his or her shoes? Sure, I do that with my friends, my family, and my clients. But even then, I can allow silly tasks or thoughts about what to make for dinner, to take precedence and miss really seeing into the heart and soul of the person sitting right in front of me.

People travel to wonder at the height of the mountains, at the huge waves of the seas, at the long course of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars, and yet they pass themselves without wondering. ~ Augustine

And I ask myself, when did I stop being wonder-full, when it comes to people? Ben, thanks for teaching me yet another lesson. You are truly wonder-full and wonderful all at once! May I be more mindful and full of wonder when it comes to the people right in front of me!

Benjaminese - Finding His Voice

Many of you know that I'm passionate about helping women and kiddos find their voice. Not that I'm not interested in helping men find their voice, it's just not where my experience has been. So, naturally, one of my favorite parts thus far of being a SAHM (stay at home mom...yes, I'm trying to become a little more "with it" when it comes to cyber-mom lingo), is the privilege of helping B discover his personality and his voice. Lately he's been trying out new sounds, much like I try on clothes. Some sounds scare him and he tosses them aside like a an ill-fitting shirt. Other sounds seem to fascinate him and he practices them repeatedly, much like I don my favorite pair of jeans, over and over again. And I listen and repeat those sounds back to him, letting him know I heard him and encouraging him to keep 'talking.' I never thought I could love something so simple, but I do. I always seem to feel the need to throw in the caveat, 'for now, at least,' but not this time. This time I'll just say, I delight in hearing my lil B test out his voice!

His personality seems to be unfolding a little more each day and it's my hope to help him discover the fullness of who God created him to be. I hope to help him discover the curiosity and wonder that his mind is capable of, the strength, flexibility, and adventure that his body is capable of, and the deep, brave love that his heart is capable of. I look forward to witnessing him begin to express more and more who he is, what he's thinking, and what he's feeling. I want to empower him to use his voice to express himself. Now, I know what some of you veteran moms and dads might be thinking, 'just you wait, Melissa, oh he will express himself alright!' I know, I know I will face those moments when he 'uses his voice' to throw a tantrum in the middle of a store and to proclaim, 'but mommy, i weally weally weeeeeeally want dat new Thomas da Twain toy. yew gotta get it fer me'...and when I say no, 'but mommy pweeeeeeease...it's not fair, yew'r so mean mommy, (and possibly the dreaded words...) I hate yew mommy.' And I anticipate the mortifying moments when he asks someone if she has a baby in her tummy when she doesn't or spouts out the word, 'breast' in the middle of a restaurant! I never said I will always like what comes out of his mouth!

I'm confident that there will be countless times where I'll find myself less than thrilled with how he chooses to use his voice or what he expresses (but I'm sure they will make for good blogging material!). But hopefully along the way, we'll teach him not only to use his voice, but also to honor his parents and to respect and love other people. We'll do our best. We'll make mistakes. And so will he. But I dare to say that I'd rather have a child that knows who he is and has the courage to express what he thinks, feels, and believes, than one who lives in fear of doing so.

So for now, Ben, have at it. In the words of the renowned philosopher...Madonna, express yourself!

Spit Happens

...it sure does. And in this house, spit happens perhaps more frequently and with a bit more gusto than is common! Though, I'm now convinced that all the spit up is harder for me to handle than it is for Ben. ***If you are eating or just ate, you may want to read this another time, just a suggestion! The other day, I had recently fed Ben and we were getting ready to take Sami, our sweet and needy retriever, for a walk. I was getting Ben all cozy in the Ergo, in preparation for said walk, when all of the sudden IT happened. IT being a giant spit storm. IT was copious, IT was chunky, IT was EVERYWHERE. IT was all over the front of Ben, all down the front of me, on my arm, on my chin, in B's hair, and coating the Ergo. Sick, I know. Sorry for such a graphic description, but how else could I convey to you the paralyzing panic that I felt in that moment! :-) So, truthfully I felt paralyzed, I couldn't move. I didn't know what to do next or where to begin the process of cleaning IT up. I just stood there, frozen, covered in IT. That's when I looked down at Ben, who was also covered in IT, only to discover that he was looking up at me with the biggest, sweetest smile on his face, as if to say, 'it's ok mommy, I actually feel better now.' I couldn't help but smile too, and well, reach for my camera, of course! Though, I decided that the actual pic of when IT happened, while good for documenting purposes, was a little much to post!

It's incredible to me how much I learn, each and every day, from this little being who is so dependent on me. It seems that as adults, we tend to bottle things up inside, wanting to keep all of our weaknesses, all of our messiness to ourselves. It's all too easy to don a facade of perfection, like we've got it all together, when really there's a whole lotta gurgling goin' on inside. And even if we try to stuff it down, try to hide it, try to keep it all inside, it's eventually going to make it's way out and it sure isn't gonna be pretty when it does! I mean, who wants to vomit one's stuff all over someone else, or worse yet, be the one vomited all over! It's a lot less messy if we let it out a little bit at a time, not to mention that it's freeing to do so. So, on that one spitty day in September, my son reminded me how much it does me good, to let some things out on a regular basis and to let people see some of my not-so-perfect sides (of which there are plenty). After all, that's real life, and in real life, spit happens.