Skin care regime

I was watching an old episode of Oprah and she was interviewing a beautiful actress who has entered her older years. Oprah was asking her how she had managed to keep her skin looking so amazing despite the fact that she is now in her 70s. At this point, the actress (and I honestly can't remember who it was) launched into a detailed description of her skin care regime. It started with the fact that she doesn't do a thing in the morning before moisturizing and she went on to describe her scrubs, toners and facials.

By this point, I am cracking up. My skin care procedure is only in place because I would kick myself later on if I did nothing now. I take off my makeup, moisturize and am devoted to SPF like a good girl.

I am sure there will come a time in my life that I can take care of my skin in the morning before I do anything else, but it certainly won't be here for a while. I am guessing I have another ten years before I even get to brush my teeth immediately upon waking up. Right now, I am tending to a crying baby, a sleepy-eyed toddler and a preschooler. Most days, I am lucky to get a shower before 10:30. In a few years, I'll be rushing to get everyone up and dressed for school.

As for my end-of-day routine, I am barely standing by bedtime. You really think I am going to stand in my bathroom to do a glycolic peel? I don't think so. If I am going to trade my precious sleep for anything, it will be a good book or some writing time. I'll accept the crows' feet and the laugh lines when they come. I'll know that I could have done just a bit more to prevent them, but I made the choice to get some sleep instead.

Just like dating

I never had to do the grown-up dating thing. I met my husband in college when it was easy to meet people and dates were low-key. I have never had to go out on a blind date or scan the crowds looking for someone who looks like a good match for me. Until now.

I am just going to throw this out there - finding other mom friends is just as hard as dating. I know that a friend is not on the same level as a life partner, but they are almost as important. Life sets you up to get married when your friends get married and have babies when your friends have babies, but it doesn't always happen that way. So, what happens now?

For the first time in my life, I am being set up on a blind date. Kind of. My brother is "setting me up" with a new friend from work who, like me, has young kids (almost the same ages as mine), a husband from another country, has a job in addition to raising a family and happens to live nearby. I may just start calling my brother Match.com. On paper, she and I are the perfect match. No doubt we will have a ton to talk about. But, what if we just don't click?

When you are looking for a partner, there are a lot of things that have to fall into place and the list of criteria is different for everyone. When you are looking for a mom friend, the list can get more complex. It starts with the things that you look for in a friend, but then you have to add in other factors because there are other people involved. Do your kids get along? Do your spouses get along?

You and Other Mom may get along great, but if your kids don't like each other, you limit your interaction to girls-only outings and double-dates. If your spouses don't have anything in common, you cut it down to coffee outings to blow off steam pent-up from days spent with the kids.

Now, having friends who you only see over coffee or dinner are great. I am not knocking those friends (especially since this constitutes most of my friends); however, I hope that, someday, I can find a few friends to get together with as families. The kids will be happy. The spouses will be happy. The mothers will be happy - and that is really all that matters anyway.

Doing it all

I am becoming one of those mothers. I raise the kids, have a part-time job, have a hobby, read lots of books, cook from scratch and still find time to make homemade marmalade. But here's the thing - doing all of that is one of those things that looks impressive from the outside. If you were in my house while I was juggling these various tasks, you would see a disheveled, insane woman dancing around the kitchen to avoid the children and toys scattered around the floor.

Sure, it sounds great when I walk up to a friend, with my hair clean and makeup on to say, "Here, have this jar of homemade marmalade that I made yesterday." But the fact of the matter is, I am a nutcase. Who in their right mind does that? Who tries to take all of that on? Herein lies my point, the mothers who try to do it all are not in their right mind. Either that, or it only looks like they are doing it all.

What do it mean by that? I mean that, there are some days I have to juggle more than others. The days that there is a lot on my plate, I have to pick and choose. Showering is a luxury. Cleaning house has to wait until the kids have gone to bed. I only do my own laundry once in a blue moon (a large wardrobe makes this possible). Plus, I only get done what I do take on thanks to a large support system. My husband is more hands-on than than I ever could have dreamed and he always gives me time off when I need it. In desperate times, my parents live nearby and are always up for a visit from the grandkid crew. My in-laws visit for long stretches of time a few times a year. All of these factors make my insane aspiration to do it all possible. So really, I am not doing it all. I am just making it look like I do it all.

An interesting family dynamic

Our oldest, C, was just over a year old when I got pregnant with M. I immediately began to worry about how C would react. He was still a baby and needed almost constant attention. How would he handle a mother distracted by a squeaky, scrawny newborn?

M's birth didn't do much to relax the situation. Born nearly two months early, M had to stay at the hospital in the NICU for a few weeks. Due to the fact that I had a C-section, I wasn't able to drive. Those weeks, coupled with the fact that I had not been able to pick him up for a month already, made C very upset with me. While I shuttled back and forth to the hospital, C was shuttled back and forth between our house and my parents' house. On one occasion, I returned from the hospital and went to give C a hug and kiss both of which he refused and he wanted nothing to do with me. Throw in the ridiculous tsunami that is postpartum  hormones and I became a wreck. One baby in the hospital and one baby that hated me.

I really needn't have worried. Once we brought M home, C couldn't keep his hands off. He wanted to feed him. He wanted to hold him. He wanted to kiss him. They have been close every step of the way (except when they both want the same toy, but that is for another post).

Flash forward another year. I got pregnant again. This time, there would be even less of an age difference. M was only about ten months old and I had already been warned that another premature birth was in my future. The worrying started again, but I was hopeful that M would like his new brother and everything would be sunshine and daisies. What I didn't take into account is that M is very, very different from C. To expect that same reaction was just wishful thinking.

We were ready for an early arrival this time, so I was able to explain to the kids what would happen, although at such a young age I doubt they grasped the concept. This time, we had planned for my mother-in-law to stay with us, which at least meant that the kids could be at home and not so displaced.

F arrived early. Few weeks in the NICU (déjà vu anyone?). We brought F home. C was delighted. M wanted nothing to do with that little bundle. He didn't get mad or even particularly jealous, but he didn't take note of him either. It was, and I am not exaggerating in the slightest, almost three months later before M acknowledged F's existence.

I wouldn't have been surprised by jealousy or aggression, but completely ignoring that F was in the house was not something I had considered. So now F is just over ten months old and M still doesn't like him most of the time. When he has decided to acknowledge him, he usually calls him "it." The rest of the time, M goes out of his way to avoid F. This is getting more difficult now that F is crawling. I have, on more than one occasion, found M perched on the stairs where F cannot get him. M cries when F pursues him.

The best part of this relationship? F loves M more than anyone else. He thinks that M is hysterical and it is a game that they are playing. My husband and I usually just sit back and enjoy the show. We particularly enjoy it when F pins M in a corner. F happy to play with his beloved older brother and M screeching to "get it off!!!!"

Nick and I often speculate when this phase will pass and M will accept F as a part of the family and not an invader. While I do find it entertaining, I do hope it is soon. The thought of F chasing M around the house when they are teenagers frightens me. I mean, I know that the teen years will be interesting, but I would hope that M no longer fears contact with F. They should have other, more ridiculous things to fight over by then.

When in doubt, just cut off all your hair

I have never been one of those women who is afraid to experiment with their hair. I have worn my hair long, short, brown, red and yes, even blonde. My hair has always been something that I accessorized with, taking an "it will always grow back if I hate it" mentality.

During my pregnancy with F, my hair grew at lightening speed. It was crazy. Even my obstetrician - a guy - often commented on how long my hair was getting. The quick pace of growth didn't seem to slow after I had F either.

It had been a long time since I had worn my hair long and I began to remember the perks of lengthy tresses. When I didn't have time to shower, I could sweep it all back into a ponytail. It got long enough to create elaborate styles when I had the time and a large messy bun when I didn't. I was really enjoying the long hair. It made me feel more feminine in a house packed to the gills with testosterone.

Then it started to fall out. A lot. One morning in the shower, I pulled out a handful of my hair. It was shocking. It was really gross. It was going to clog my drains. This continued for a few weeks and the stress of losing my hair created more stress, thus inciting a vicious cycle of stress and hair loss. Tumbleweeds of hair danced down my hallways and it looked like we had adopted a long-haired molting animal of some kind.

I finally lost my cool. Since I had worn my hair short before, I knew that chopping it all off would be no big deal. But my previous short hairstyles had all been high maintenance and I do not have time for blow drying and styling and all that other crap. No. This time, I needed to go shorter. Super short. Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby short.

I'll admit it. I was scared. I have a few renegade cowlicks in my hair. What if they rebelled and I looked like Alfafa or Dennis the Menace? What if I just looked like a guy? What would I do without the safety net of a ponytail? Then again, what if my children started coughing up hair balls? How much would it cost me to have every drain in my house snaked by a plumber to evacuate the hair blockage created by my fleeting mane? I went online. I found a picture of a haircut that I liked. I went to see my hairstylist, Roland. I gave him the picture.

I told Roland my problem and what I was thinking about doing. Roland has been cutting my hair for five years, so he has a pretty good understanding of my impulsive hair tendencies. But this time, I made it clear that I only wanted him to do it if he thought I could pull it off. He thought I could and I gave him the green light to start cutting.

As long clumps of hair fell victim to the scissors, I began to feel lighter. Sure, my hair would still fall out because that is one of the things that can happen when you have a baby. But at least it wouldn't be quite so shocking. A handful of short hair isn't as jarring as a handful of long hair. When he finished, I was very happy with the cut and glad I made the decision to go short.

When I walked in the front door, C ran up to me, looked at me quizzically and asked, "Mummy, are you you?"

"Yes, I am me. I just had my hair cut." He seemed to accept that as a plausible reason for my new look.

It has taken a some time to adjust to seeing my reflection. After two months of short hair, I am just now expecting to see short hair in the middle. I also got back about twenty minutes of my life a day because washing this close crop takes no time and I don't have to dry or even brush it.

I am sure that I will grow it out again at some point in my life, but I am enjoying my new 'do and the hair-free floors and drains that come along with it.

Mamas, do you have any good child-inducing haircut stories? I want to hear them!

Mamas: United We Stand, Divided We're F%#&ed

Being a mother is really, really hard.

Being a mother with no mother friends to talk to is even harder and this applies long before the baby is ever born.

Pregnancy is filled with amazing and wonderful milestones. It is also, filled with lots of weird-ass stuff that happens to your body. Obviously, you can ask your doctor anything, but there are some things that require a friend.

When I was pregnant with C, I found myself lacking a go-to resource for icky, highly-personal questions. Most of my friends who had children had them a long time ago and didn't remember. I did have a couple of recently or simultaneously pregnant friends, but I needed to address some very delicate areas that required a certain level of trust that I wouldn't gross them out. On occasion, I turned to pregnancy chat rooms. The problem with that is, everyone tends to post the worst case scenario and scare the crap out of the other mothers. So, a lot of my questions went unanswered.

As a result, I now have a very open policy that I share with any of my friends who become pregnant: there is no question too personal, too gross or too stupid to ask me. If it is a question that I am not comfortable with, I'll figure out a way to answer or help you get the answer.

Pregnancy can be very scary and confusing, but it is even more so if you don't have resources to answer questions like "should my nipples really look like that?" or "how the hell do I shave my legs if I can't reach them?" In case you are wondering - yes, they should and use depilatory cream or have them waxed.

But needing mama friends certainly doesn't end with pregnancy. The gross questions may slow down once the baby is born, but the need to talk to someone who is experiencing the same things increases in spades.

Having other friends with kids the same age allows you to see other types of parenting. Hopefully, your friends aren't the preachy type who make you think you are doing it all wrong. More than one of my mama tricks have come from my community of mama friends. Sometimes, you just need another perspective.

Plus, if you have friends with kids the same age, you get to go on play dates. Now, play dates don't sound fun to most people, but mamas know that you can make them really fun. A very good friend and I recently took our kids to the zoo. I think we had more fun than they did. At least until the lack of napping kicked in and everyone melted down, but it was still great to be out and have a chance to talk and catch up.

Something about being around other mamas takes the stress out of socializing with your kids. If I have a non-mama friend over, I usually feel a little more inclined to keep things in order, keep everyone happy and quiet. But other mamas understand the madness that comes with having small children, so I tend to relax a bit more.

Being a mother is really hard, but it is a lot more fun if you have friends to help you laugh it off, cry it out and have a drink with when it gets to be too much!

I learned the hard way

I think that it goes without saying that you should always, always have a set of clean sheets on hand for your child's bed. Same goes for pajamas.

But, I have a bad habit of leaving the clean laundry in the basement, near the laundry room. This is a habit that I will now break, at least for the sheets.

Let me tell you that, when your child wakes you up at a ridiculous time in the middle of the night because they have been sick in their bed, the last thing you want to do is trudge downstairs to get clean sheets. If I had just put them away, they would have been in the closet of his room and my only trip downstairs would have been to rinse out the gross sheets, which was bad enough.

I will also let you in on a little-known fact. If your spouse is out of town, that is the night that your child will throw up in bed. Or the power will go out. Or the basement will flood. You get the picture. Now go wash your sheets and put them in your kid's room.