Dear Day Camp, Hi. I want to say right off the bat that we are cool. I like and need you. Because you take my complicated, sensitive kid every day, and then she comes home later, and she did things, and she was safe and happy. You must be doing something right.

But I have a request. Please, please be a true partner to working parents and stop with the crazy hat days. Or, more realistically, go crazy with crazy hat days and any other silly accessories—I’ll even donate that questionable furry purple stole thing that keeps falling on me when I try to get stuff out of the top of my closet—but please don’t make it another to-do for me.

Because no matter how many e-mail reminders you send during the days leading up to these cute spirit activities, it is a mathematical certainty that some of us just won’t be able to get it done and our children will be left out, wondering why their parents overlooked them. For all the articles about the invisible mental load, this one is not invisible at all, and it needs to be addressed.

Crazy hat day is “hey, let’s see if moms can handle another thing” day. Well, today I couldn’t. And I don’t need to see the sad photos to know that many other moms (and dads) couldn’t, either.

Today wasn’t a surprise. I knew crazy hat day was today. At least three days ago, I saw the e-mail pop up as I was responding to the latest midday text from a caregiver in between meetings at work, asking about someone’s eczema cream or where the velcro shoes were. I knew somewhere in my brain that my 5-year-old would go to camp today, and if she didn’t have a crazy hat packed in her bag, she would arrive and feel slighted and left out when all the other kids produced their lovingly packed crazy hats. And I still couldn’t get it done.

Not because I didn’t want to. But because my brain, and my partner’s brain, simply ran out of RAM to keep it on the to-do list. Or maybe we simply ran out of time. As two practicing attorneys with two children, every single day is an exercise in triage, all day, at work and at home. It is difficult to even find the time to register for camp—which we rely on as a critical piece of our childcare in the summer months.

And then to get the health records in. And label the clothes. And find a way to ensure that no one goes into camp without sunblock on. None of these tasks, individually, seems too daunting. But for parents who work literally around the clock, they are collectively oppressive. We get them done (just barely and only because my husband is aces) because if you want camp, you get the vaccine records in—that is non-negotiable for safety. No issue there.

But what about all the extra stuff. Why is that on me/us? (I am lucky, I think, that my partner even feels responsible for these extra assignments—I suspect most mothers are on their own. There’s definitely data on that.)

The point is, we pay good money to have our children loved and safely cared for during the day. And then we do all the things to make sure they can attend. And then we set up the system for the various supplies and accouterments to go with them in the camp routine and for someone to be home when they get off the bus and all that jazz.

Is it too much to ask not to be handed nearly daily extra assignments that are ultimately just more opportunities for us to drop the ball? Because we will. I will.

Sure, I could have spent some of the two whole hours I had free on Sunday locating or shopping for a “crazy” hat. But those are the only two hours I had to actually spend time with my babies whom I love and try hard not to disappoint when I can avoid it. I chose to use that time to bathe them, make them terrible grilled cheese (you use butter on the inside and outside, right?), and do bedtime with them—which is only even an option for me two days per week.

However, in choosing to spend the time that way, I was also, subconsciously, making a choice to screw my kid at camp today. And that just sucks.

Unfortunately, disappointing my children is part and parcel of my existence as a working mother. I often have to do other things when they want (and need) my attention and love. Work things. Things that are necessary for our livelihood.

But it doesn’t make sense that I am paying others to manufacture more opportunities for disappointments. I have gotten very good at letting my children down all on my own—and for free. I want—no, I need—the others in the village I have constructed to help me rear my children to minimize those opportunities for sadness and let-downs, not add to them.

Please don’t get me wrong. I am not down on camp. I loved it as a child, and I get why they do all these fun spirit things. My kids are enjoying their experiences at camp, and I am sincerely grateful for the peace of mind it affords me to know that my kids are safe and happy when I cannot be with them because we have a mortgage.

But few things are as crushing to a mother, who is killing herself to pay the bills and also find some time to actually sit with her children and love them in person, as seeing a photo of her daughter watching quietly from the side while the other kids revel in front of the camera with their crazy hats.

When I saw it posted on social media, I wanted to run out of my office and drive to camp and hug her and explain to her that she isn’t an oversight. That I don’t not care about sending her to camp with the right stuff. I care so much.

Please, camp. Help me not fail at this one. I’m not asking you to cancel crazy hat day or whatever other crazy days are coming up that require supplies. It looks like great fun for the kids whose mothers (and fathers) managed to get it together.

But I am asking you to understand that I got home after 1 a.m. last night, and I didn’t see my children this morning, either. And under the current setup, I simply don’t stand a chance.

My household cannot take on any more things, and we need you to be a real partner in our children’s happiness, not working against us (knowingly or not).

And if that means we pay a little more for camp and you take that cash and send out a counselor to buy whatever colored shirts or armbands you need to stick in a closet somewhere so that I never have to see that look on my daughter’s face in a camp photo again, I will gladly do so.

I’ll make the same plea to my kids’ teachers in September, too. I’m happy to contribute extra up front—I hereby authorize you to spend all of it on trips and party snacks to avoid breaking my child’s soul and my heart at 2 p.m. on a random Tuesday.

Also, while I’m focused on this. Please put me down now for all of the 8:15 p.m. parent-teacher conference slots and know that Grandma is coming to all the parties at 11:15 a.m. Sounds funny but she’s really coming to all of those. I may not even meet you this year. And not because I don’t want to.

💔

The full version of this post was originally published on @mamasaidf.

Sara is an attorney and mother of two (plus one shorthair) in New York.

What happens when you physically can’t be in two places at once? And, all of a sudden, you’re relying on someone else to pick up the slack, the slack you dropped, regardless of what circumstance caused you to drop it. Then, imagine that the person you have to depend on is (a) someone you hadn’t counted on in a long time and (b) someone you certainly wouldn’t want to know you needed help.

On a snowy day soon after my divorce, that’s what happened, and, for the first time, I got a taste of what being a divorced single parent was all about. Despite being newly free from a marriage that brought me pain and dragged me down, I hadn’t counted on the rush of emotions I would experience after missing something as simple as a 20-minute parent-teacher conference.

And, damn it, I deserved that romantic getaway, too! It was my off-weekend or, as I like to call it, divorce’s silver lining. I had recently started dating a man, someone I liked very much. I was living in Minnesota, co-parenting with my ex-husband nearby. The man I was seeing, however, lived in Seattle. So the night before Thanksgiving, I dropped the kids off at my ex’s and got on a plane to the West Coast to spend some time together.

I scheduled myself to fly back to Minnesota on Sunday, right in time for my daughter’s sophomore parent-teacher conferences on Monday. Up until that point, I had never missed a parent-teacher conference for any of our four kids. But as I sat at the Seattle airport looking at unseasonal snow everywhere, I realized there was a first time for everything. I was beside myself with guilt.

Reluctantly, I called my ex-husband and told him that I would need him to attend the conference. He had only gone to a few such conferences over the years, but I knew he’d be fine. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same sense of confidence I did. Believing he needed a cheat sheet, he instructed our 15-year-old daughter to write a paragraph about each class.

She was horrified. How could her dad ask her to do homework when she already had so much, and only so he could attend her parent-teacher conference? It was ludicrous. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I think I did both, along with our daughter, although for different reasons. Could my missing something as basic as a parent-teacher conference cause such pain to all of us?

Our daughter did the “assignment” and then blamed me. After all, if I hadn’t brought this new man into my life, which meant into our family, I wouldn’t have fallen short on missing yet another important “Mom” thing. She was right. But she was also wrong because I knew in my head that as a single woman, I should have the chance to find a partner I would be happy with and want to share my life with one day. Either way, it didn’t stop my heart from hurting. Because of my trip, my so-called selfishness, I was the one who failed. I was sick with guilt.

As for the conference, my ex-husband passed with flying colors. He heard all about our daughter’s classes, how she was doing, and what areas she needed to work on throughout the school year. He relayed the information to me, and although I felt guilty that I missed hearing the information firsthand and that my ex punished our daughter because I wasn’t there to listen to it directly, I felt relieved.

Even in my absence, the sun still came up the next day, my ex-husband survived the ordeal, and our daughter eventually forgave me. I knew then I wasn’t the only one who had to be in a certain place at a certain time or do everything with and for my kids just because my title was “Mom.” With that one missed flight and one missed conference, I was liberated from all of the pressure I put on myself. It was life-changing—for the better, for all of us as a family, including my ex-husband.

Years later, when my new husband (the same guy I was visiting in Seattle) and I were traveling and both unable to attend my son’s sixth-grade parent-teacher conference, my husband’s daughter, a recent college grad, was up for the challenge. She went on mine and my son’s father’s behalf, as he still lived back in Minnesota and was unable to come. (He later moved to Seattle, too, to avoid missing such moments.)

Everyone at the school commented about how “cool” it was that my son’s older step-sister came to the conference, how many insightful questions she asked, and how supportive she was of him and his learning. And she did it all without making her stepbrother do extra homework, sending my newly blended family straight to the head of the class.

Elise Buie, Esq. is a Seattle-based family and divorce lawyer and founder of ​Elise Buie Family Law Group​. A champion for maintaining civility throughout the divorce process, Elise advocates for her clients and the best interests of their children, helping them move forward with dignity and strength.

There was a glittery purple tricycle at the preschool I attended. High in demand, each day at recess time a gaggle of girls—myself included—would rush to grab it first.

Interestingly, it was a disappointing experience once the battle of the tricycle was over. Once the rider mounted it and began pedaling, the bumpy, jerky motion revealed an unfortunate reality: the tricycle frame was bent, resulting in a wobbly, lackluster ride. The back left wheel was about two inches higher than the other wheels. Even back then it was evident that each wheel relied on each other to make the experience successful, and the frame must be a strong support for the wheels.

I rode on through my childhood and grew into a larger, two wheeled road boke with a banana seat. In high school, I begrudgingly rode my 10-speed Schwinn bike to school until I could drive.

In college, occasionally (and by “occasionally” I mean, like twice) I rode a mountain bike on some local LA trails with friends.

Marriage and then early motherhood brought that concept of balance to a standstill—once a high school English teacher, I was now staying at home with little ones. I discovered alcohol was the answer to quiet my stress and insecurities.

Eventually I discovered I was back on that purple glittery tricycle, if only figuratively. It looked exciting and seductive at first glance, but it revealed its’ failures once I started riding it. Jolting along, I became tipsy and I began to see and feel everything from a shaky, unstable perspective. An off-kilter experience revealed that same sense of disappointing imbalance.

Summer days as young mom were spent outside in the cul-de-sac, watching my own kids whirling around on tricycles, on scooters and big wheels. I remember how awful I felt inside, suffering from a self-induced case of persistent guilt and shame, fueled by alcohol. I had lost balance physically, mentally and emotionally. I was rotting from the inside out. I knew my kids could feel the ripple effect of my constant inability to find and maintain a steady sense of self.

Each morning I’d wake up stunned and demoralized, my shaky hands attempted to finish my eyeliner. My goal was to achieve a decent look instead of what had become my usual jagged makeup job: A makeup job one might wear if they were on their way to see the group “Kiss” in concert. The day dragged on until the arrival of a respectable drinking hour. Then vodka in my coffee cup would surely at least temporarily mute the deafening screams of reality, which reminded me every day my kids were growing up in front of my glazed-over eyes.

Finally, I reached a fork in the road. A turning point. This was my night in jail, after being arrested for a DUI. Ironically, the roadside sobriety test administered is partially about balance. I didn’t have the ability to walk on the line without leaning and falling over. It was the soul annihilating moment when I had to face the fact that I was utterly addicted to alcohol, and I might lose my family.

That night in jail, I stood at the proverbial end of the road. I could choose to turn one way and keep drinking, or I could choose the other way and try to quit. Two seemingly terrifying options. I knew if I wanted to try to keep my family life together, I was going to have to turn in the direction requiring me to give up booze. It seemed like the harder option, but lowly, one painful hour at a time became one day at a time. One day at a time became one month at a time. Once month at a time became one year at a time. All because of the decision to try. That’s the key to sobriety….The willingness to “tri.”

What I discovered by making that fateful turn a decade ago was beyond what I could have imagined. Today, I don’t lead a perfect life, but I do lead a steady, predictable life. I don’t ever wake up hungover anymore. I don’t ever have to wonder if I’ll be too obliterated to attend a parent teacher conference. I don’t have to look up liquor laws for the state I’m traveling to. I don’t fear that my kids will pick up my cup and unsuspectingly take a swig of soda spiked with vodka.

You know what that steady, predictable ride feels like? Freedom. Balance. If I hadn’t tried to ride other tricycles on the playground, I never would have realized how unfulfilling that purple glittery tricycle actually was. Today, that feeling of freedom and balance brings limitless expansion. An ability to blaze new trails. The possibility of discovering new journeys. The hope of fresh chapters revealing what’s around the next corner. As it turns out, that freedom and sense of balance is the proverbial glitter I was looking for all along.

Amy Liz Harrison is one of recovery’s newest voices and author of Eternally Expecting: A Mom of Eight Gets Sober and Gives Birth to a New Life…Her Own.

Amy Liz Harrison is one of recoveries newest voices and author of Eternally Expecting: A Mom of Eight Gets Sober and Gives Birth to a New Life...Her Own.

Photo: Photo via Depositphotos

I was one of the lucky moms who got to work from home. I got to contribute financially to my family, and at the same time spend precious time with my baby. A dream come true, right? Well, it was much harder than it sounds. What most people don’t understand, is that working from home meant my baby controlled my schedule.

The other day, I had a conference call at 9:30 a.m. for 30 minutes. Perfect! That was just in time for my daughter’s first nap, so I could take the conference call without her cooing in the background. I woke up that morning confident that I could tire her out in time for the call and that I could give everyone my undivided attention during the meeting.

Here were the events that pursued:

9:20 AM: I received a text from my manager that the meeting was delayed 15 minutes. Okay, not the end of the world. My daughter was already sleepy so I was in the process of putting her down for her nap, but perhaps she could still sleep through the whole meeting. 45-minute naps are not unheard of, right?

9:43 AM: Another text. They needed another 10 minutes. All right, no worries.

9:55 AM: Yet another text. The meeting was delayed to 10:15 a.m. Most likely Zoe would be awake by then, but that’s okay. She might be playing and cooing in the background during the call, but my coworkers were pretty used to hearing baby noises by now.

10:15 AM: The meeting finally started, but surprisingly, my daughter had not woken up yet. I anxiously looked at the baby monitor like it was a ticking bomb, hoping that she would by miracle sleep another 30 minutes. But 5 minutes into the meeting, she woke up screaming like someone was about to take her hostage. I put myself on mute, threw the phone on the ground, and ran to grab her. With my baby still in a bad mood and howling in my ear, I sprinted back to get my phone and tried to listen to my coworkers as much as I could.

Man did my daughter wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I tried distracting her with different toys, laying her down on the ground, walking her around the room…nope, she was not having it. I strained to hear my call and prayed that nobody would need me or ask me a question. Taking myself off mute would be a horrible idea right now.

However, I knew that I would have to speak eventually. There were topics on the agenda that needed my input, so my plan of action was to get my baby to be quiet immediately. I whipped out the magical boobs…or at least, they were magical when my son was an infant. It didn’t matter what was bothering him, as soon as I popped him on my breast, the world was a better place.

My daughter, unfortunately, does not share the same sentiments toward my milk jugs. I tried nursing her, and she just seemed to get angrier. Panicking, I started walking around the room again with her while trying to nurse her at the same time.

Wait, there was hope! She finally latched on and seemed to have quieted down for a few seconds!

Luckily, I was able to speak a few sentences while frantically pacing around the room feeding my daughter. Just as I spoke my last words, I could feel my let-down reflex happening, so I quickly pressed the mute button again just as my daughter pulled off my breast, angrier than ever.

For those of you who do not breastfeed, let-down is essentially when you turn on the faucet and the milk really starts to flow. Unfortunately for my daughter, my let-down was quite forceful, so instead of a faucet, think of the Hoover Dam opening its gates and all the water flowing out. My daughter quickly pulled off so she wouldn’t choke on my milk, which left my boob uncovered, shooting milk everywhere. I was holding my baby with both arms and had the phone wedged between my ear and my shoulder, so there was no way to somehow pull up my bra.

Just when this was all happening, our dog walked into the room. She got sprayed in the face by my breast milk and she got excited thinking I was playing with her. She chased me around the room, jumping and licking at my breast milk as it sprinkled the carpet, the sofa, everything. My coworkers, clueless about what was happening, continued their deep discussion, and all I could do was listen and try to remember what was being discussed as much as I could over my daughter’s cries.

I was sweating as if I had run a marathon, and my arms were burning from holding my baby for the past 20 minutes. Finally, my let-down stopped and my dog calmed down (though she continued to lick the carpet whenever she found a spot with milk on it). 

At least, there was peace and quiet. My daughter popped back on my boob and started nursing again, and I could sit down on the sofa and relax. I turned my attention back to the call and I heard, “Okay good call everyone, let’s get back together again after lunch.”

Seriously?

Betty Boiron is a mother of two who strives to inspire other moms to embrace motherhood as the hot mess it is. When she is not busy chasing after her kids or digging herself out of piles of laundry, you can find her writing on her blog Mombrite.

 

I write this in my basement, as my toddler and infant tromp around above me—all while trading childcare shifts with my husband because daycare’s out of session due to covid.

Clearly, the current era has been all about juggling. But at a time when it’s harder than ever to achieve balance in our work and home lives, striking some kind of peace treaty between work and home life is especially crucial. 

As the Millennial Money Expert at Fabric, a startup that’s a one-stop-shop for families and their financial lives, I speak to all sorts of parents. Between these conversations and the tenuous line I’m also trying to walk, here’s how I’ve been thinking about work-life balance in 2021.

  • Leave work at work, even if you’re now working from home: In practical terms, the best way to do this is to set aside a designated place for WFH-ing. If I try to work on my laptop at the kitchen table, I can guarantee that I’m going to be interrupted with a request to bake cookies (where did she get the impression that was on today’s schedule?), build a puzzle or help with the niggly parts of dressing a baby doll. Finding a work-only space can be difficult if your home isn’t giant or you don’t have a separate office. Still, even if “home office” means throwing on a winter coat and working out of the basement (ahem), it’s vital to have a designated space where you can concentrate—and where your kids understand that you’re off-limits. 

  • Set time limits on technology for your kids and yourself: When your top goal is to get your kids to be quiet long enough for you to get through a conference call, it can be tempting to plop ‘em in front of a screen. Likewise, when the weather’s cold and all the stores and restaurants are closed or potentially coronavirus-ridden, it often feels easier to tune out and tune into Netflix. I’m not here to take a stand on whether screen time is good or bad in general, but my own experience is that after a long day of screens, I often feel better if I can step away. Sometimes this takes the form of cooking and baking or listening to an audiobook. Lately, I’ve been rediscovering my crafty side by drawing kids’ books and puzzles for the children in my life. Whatever your release, try asking yourself: After the fact, which action will make me feel better about how I spent this hour?

  • Get your financial life in (better) order: With so much going on, dealing with finances and long-term planning can feel very stressful and overwhelming. But in a world of chaos, it can be reassuring to impose some order. Think about what tasks are on your financial and organizational to-do list. Which ones can you knock off between kids’ bedtime and your own? Start there. Whether you are a new parent or not, nows the time to think about the status of your life insurance, will, and college savings plans and update priority documents so you can relax a bit. 

  • Iron out a schedule with the people in your life: If you’re a single parent, this time is incredibly challenging. I hope you have other support systems in your life, like family and/or “learning pods” with friends’ kids. Whether your pinch-hitters include spouses and partners or grandparents and friends, this pandemic has gone on long enough that it probably makes sense to formalize your arrangements, if you haven’t already. If your kids are typically in school or daycare, what’s the backup plan for if and when they close for the dreaded 14 days for COVID? If you have a nanny, what’ll you do if they end up getting sick? If grandparents or other family members can help out, can they come on regular days each week?

This hasn’t been easy for any of us. I can’t pretend that work-life balance is going to magically fall into place, especially when it was hard enough previously, without a pandemic! But I know I’ll be taking a deep breath and thinking more consciously about how I can create the boundaries I need to maximize my work and family successes.

 

Allison Kade is Fabric’s Millennial Money Expert. She has written about parenting, money, travel, careers, and time management, for publications like Bloomberg, Forbes, The Today Show, Business Insider, The Huffington Post, and more. She is also a Pushcart Prize-nominated fiction writer. Follow her on Twitter @amkade.

With loved ones spread far and wide this holiday season, personalized and greeting cards are taking on a whole new meaning. Cardlet, a husband and wife-founded app takes sending your loved ones customized greeting cards to the next level with the magic of AR. Show the ones you care about how important they are to you with this service that requires zero trips to the store. 

AR Greeting Card

Cardlet is a physical greeting card delivery service powered by an app that helps you schedule, customize and order high quality greeting cards for an affordable price (starting at $6.95) with ease (delivered in 3-5 business days). Every card is enriched with a hidden AR experience that introduces a new dimension to the message it contains, including a feature that allows the card-giver to imbue their very own voice into the card. 

AR Greeting Card

As a new mom, Cardlet founder and CEO Jenny Sich was inspired to create Cardlet after forgetting to purchase a Father’s Day card. Confident that there should have been an app to help with that, she and her husband Matt Sich, a software engineer and Apple Worldwide Developers Conference attendee, set out to make greeting cards simpler and more meaningful with technology. This holiday season, as gift-buyers seek to avoid the stores, personalized cards delivered courtesy of Cardlet are a no-brainer way to connect with loved ones while staying home.

—Jennifer Swartvagher

All photos courtesy of Cardlet

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The pandemic and stay at home orders made it difficult for parents to share moments and milestones with loved ones. Canon has come up with a way to capture and share these which is free and easy using something you may already have on your shelf. Canon released a software to turn existing Canon cameras into a webcam that streams and records at the same time in broadcast quality.

Canon webcam

In early April Canon was quick to address the sold out webcam issue by thinking beyond that which their cameras are traditionally capable of answering the needs of many with a free software that turns Canon cameras into webcams. Canon was first to market with their competitors following months later and has more than 700,000 downloads to date.

Last week Canon released their full version software which is now:

  • Compatible with 42 Canon camera models
  • Works with 13 of the top video conferencing applications including Zoom, Microsoft Teams, Skype, Facebook Live, Slack, YouTube Live and more
  • Stream and save these precious moments at the same time with the ability to record while using the software

The software works with Windows 10 (full version) and Beta available for iOS users.

Using a Canon camera as your webcam upgrades your video experience delivering broadcast quality pictures (a leap beyond the webcams built into most laptops) which is more and more important these days as we turn to video for learning, job interviews, work conference calls, seeing family, capturing milestone moments like virtual birthdays, gender reveals and more.

—Jennifer Swartvagher

Featured photo: Canon

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On the outside, I appear to be calm about my kids going back to school. They attend a public school that is well funded and has engaged parents. Last week there was a Zoom call with over 300 participants and the general consensus among the parents is that mandatory masks, new ventilation systems, hundreds of new sanitizing stations, and 45-pages worth of initiatives cover as much as can be expected to keep students, teachers and everyone that works in the school safe.

But I still find myself waking up in the middle of the night from anxiety. I keep thinking that tomorrow night will be different, but it’s not. Part of feeling better is knowing that there are so many others feeling the exact same way. I decided that I would do a bit of research and find actions that I could take to help with the stress. Sometimes it’s about finding what works best for us as an individual, and you can only decide when you’ve read, talked, and done your research.

Nanika Coor, Psy.D. is a Brooklyn, NY based clinical psychologist who specializes in working with parents, recommends being mindful in four key areas.  I took her advice to heart and thought about specific things that I could do to ease my back-to-school anxieties.

1. BREATHE. Her first piece of advice when you are feeling stressed is to, “Stop & breathe: Stop whatever you’re doing. Pause. Take a breath. Make your exhale last as long as you can.” At first, I found this somewhat comical and basic, but the truth is it really helps. Don’t laugh, but the smell of Soap & Glory Uplifting bath products while taking a deep breath in the shower makes me happy and sets a positive vibe for the morning. I feel like I’ve rewarded myself just for being positive and making an effort to be in a good mood.

2. BE AWARE. “Check-in: Focus your awareness on your internal experience: What emotions, body sensations, and thoughts are you experiencing right at this moment? Notice with curiosity rather than self-judgment. Let whatever’s there just be there,” says Coor. The part that resonated with me is about self-judgment. So many times, moms feel that they should have it all together at home and at work and it’s the pressure, more than the activities, that make things hard. I’ve also decided to ask for help and ordered Freshly meals. I spend less time worrying and cooking, more time with my kids and husband, and therefore I feel like I did a better job. That’s the recipe for a start to less self-judgment.

3. LOOK WITH A POSITIVE LENS. Coor also recommends that parents, “Zoom out with a positive lens: Assume positive intent. What if you assumed that both you and your child are trying to get your needs met in the best way that you know how at this moment, however unproductively. Call up some compassion for you both.”  My kids want more attention and I have laundry to fold. Plus, conference calls and soon homework. We both need time and that’s why I’ve incentivized them to help with more chores. By doing things together they can feel that I am happier and calmer, and we get to crack jokes while we work. One extremely important lesson and I cannot emphasize this enough, is you cannot criticize the way they help. Just don’t do it. If they are doing it with willingness, tell them how it makes you feel. Think about the emotion and not how clean or well-folded something is done. Remember, you’re looking with a positive lens and it’s one step at a time.

4. RESPOND FIRST, THEN REACT. Coor’s last piece of advice is to “Choose the least harmful response you can: Respond rather than react. What can you do right now that brings the least amount of harm to your child’s body, mind, heart, spirit, and self-esteem?” There are a few ways that I’ve tried to implement this in my life.  First, if I feel like I’m really going to lose it, I leave the room and say that I’m coming back when I calm down. This actually is much more effective than screaming at the top of my lungs while something is happening because my kids know it’s serious and they have time to realize what just happened.

The other way I’ve used this advice is by taking something away that demonstrated that I was doing something extra because I care, not because I had to.  As an example, for a while, my kids would not stop bickering. Day in and day out it was misery. I screamed, I pleaded, and I cried. Nothing helped. Then I decided to tell them that if they continue one more time, they would have to get to school on their own. My reasoning was that I had to take time out of my day to fight the traffic and the school bus lines so that my kids would have door-to-door service. It was something that I did for them because I cared. Not because I had to. The fighting continued, I stopped driving, they took the bus, and the fighting ended. They got the point.

To me, it doesn’t matter that things have changed in terms of COVID-19. Things changed because the response was more meaningful than harmful.  Parents do things every single day that show love and care, and at a certain point, kids are able to understand that this is a shared activity.

5. GET HELP. If things seem really difficult and you are struggling, get help. It’s the most important thing that you can do for yourself and your family.  Almost everyone is having a hard time and you are not alone. Parents Anonymous is a family strengthening organization and has added resources to help during the pandemic.

This is my place to start and it might change in the weeks ahead. But, I’m already starting to feel calmer.

I'm a mom of two children, wife, and love my fur baby, traveling and playing UNO.  My passion is discovering services and products by entrepreneurs, especially those that can cut down on some screen time and help our family create lasting memories together. 

Last month, my younger daughter tried to start a nudist colony inside our four-bedroom, two-bath home. It wasn’t a cult. She’s two. We were potty training. As soon as I had her ditch her diapers, she refused to wear clothing. Her older sister also began streaking through the house. But that wasn’t all. 

The morning it started, I removed my younger daughter’s diaper and told her we were out of them. At first, she was excited and that gave me hope. I didn’t know that meant she had a plan. My husband is an essential worker and I work from home. In the middle of wrangling statistics for a PowerPoint presentation, I heard my daughter call: “Mama, I’m done!” I hurried down the hallway to the bathroom where she stood proudly in front of the wall she had painted with poop. At least it was hers, and not the dog’s. 

It’s possible that all of this gives me a certain edge of expertise I can now offer to other parents who decide to potty train during quarantine.

1. Toddlers in potty training will shred your precious supply of toilet paper—or toss entire rolls in the toilet, fish the roll out, and leave it sopping on the counter. Try locking away spares somewhere.

2. If you have a pet, you will soon realize the location of their poop is more predictable.

3. When your eldest daughter yells, “Something stinks!” Put your laptop aside and lock your eyes to your feet, watching where you step at all times.

4. Clean up pee stain might be on your top action item for the day.

5. Your child may fall forward while wiping themselves during your most important meeting of the day. 

6. You cannot control your child’s bladder during your conference calls. Pee will come.

7. Hover over the mute button. A naked two-year-old might run into your home office yelling, “Where is my underwears?” 

8. You may walk outside and discover your 5-year-old teaching her two-year-old sister how to pee like the family dog. 

9. Listen for the distant splash of water after your child uses the toilet. They may be doing tricep dips into their pee water.

If you’re stuck trying to potty train your little ones during quarantine, don’t give in to a diaper or the nudist’s colony. Capture your kid’s poopy antics. You’ll laugh about it later. I promise.

 

Karlee Vincent is the mother of two beautiful, spirited little ladies and the wife of one awesome Canadian. During her journey back into the workforce, Karlee has had to traverse the international frontier while nursing, pumping and generally just trying to figure out what it means to be a parent.