Something af-FORD-able

Hello, My name is SallyHP and I'm a Ford*-aholic. When searching for a second car, my one-track mind kept going back to the cute little car that three of the four girls in my family have owned at one point or another in our college/post-college lives; The Ford Focus.

The Ford Focus, otherwise knows as the poor man's Jetta, has been a staple in my corporate whore family since their conception. For my older sister, who got the first model year, this meant going through the trial of a window mechanism that stopped working at random times, which was not completely fortunate in the frigid Eastern Oregon winter. Aside from that, however, it's always been a car with little to no mechanical defects, great gas mileage and a LOT of trunk space...good for both hiding bodies (except for that pesky safety feature/internal trunk release), and long road trips.

Another great feature that both my sister and I got to experience first-hand, is that when you're backing up, if you happen to 'snag' the side-view mirror on something immobile, it just pops right off! It's still connected by a cable, but nothing a little epoxy can't fix temporarily while you're waiting to go get it fixed. None of this crazy cracking of the surrounding fitting, or denting of the other "immobile object" aka the car parked next to you. Yeah...we're pretty cool.

When I say that we are a Ford Family, I am not exaggerating. Papa HP owns an F-150 and my mom is now in her fifth Taurus...we practically had to sit shiv'ah when the last one rolled off the assembly line in Detroit. Apparently we weren't the only ones, as the 500 was quickly re-branded the Taurus after three short model years (only one of which precluded the Taurus). Sister 1 has a Windstar, Sister 2 an Explorer; known to blasphemists as an Exploder, J and I have the Freestyle and now a prized Focus and Sister 3, another Focus. With only one exception (which I shall not name, as it's too painful) all vehicles owned in my immediate family are Fords. Our get-togethers could compete with a small dealership.

I felt almost adulterous yesterday when J was test-driving a Hyundai...but now that it's behind us, we can just pretend it never happened. I'm only sorry that H had to witness it.

J was listing off a number of different models he'd like to investigate, but I already knew what I wanted; A Ford Focus of model year 2001-2006 under $8,000 with less than 80,000 miles. I had all the arguments lined up to defend my dear car.

I, being the underemployed of the two, began calling dealerships with the requirements of a car with the above years, price and mileage, leaving off the make and model. When the dealer would come back at me with the 'perfect' car (a Pontiac Grand Prix and a Chrysler Sebring) I tried to control my gag reflex, but the scoff was unrestrained. I got a cold response of "well, whaddayah want then?" afordfocus! I blurted out in one quick burst like a tourette's patient. Seriously, when you have the cute, zippy focus in your mind, a Pontiac Grand Prix is just NOT going to do. Hello. 1984 called. They want their car back.

In the end, we got our perfect little car. An '05 Focus, with the right price and some great upgrades. Not to mention great customer service from a friendly salesman at Herb Chambers Ford of Westboro. (plug, plug)

I feel proud of the place we're at in our marriage when the best gift we can give one another is a little independence. We will no longer have to coordinate our schedules to within one minute of each other, and I will be free to take the kid(s) (Gulp, we're going to have more than one child in less than two months!) to as many museums, play dates and other activities as my little heart desires without dredging them out of bed to pick up J at the end of his shift.

What can I say? We really know how to Focus on the Family (pun intended).

*I am not being compensated by Ford Motor Company for this post in any way...although I probably should be.

1979 Called, It Wants It's Parenting Style Back

Isn't this the exact image you have in mind of the first glimpse you'll have of your new baby as a first-time mom? Who knew there'd be all that slime and goop involved? I grudgingly admit that I was a little relieved when they wiped him off a little before I held him. Granted it was a c-section, so I'll just have to get over myself next time...

When it comes time for a woman to bear and raise children there is no end to the advice they'll receive, the majority of which is unsolicited. 'Don't blow your breath in the baby's face, they'll suffocate.' 'Put a little rice cereal in the bottle, they'll sleep like a dream!' 'Well, I (left you alone/didn't use a carseat/layed you on your stomach/etc and you turned out just fine!' These and other anecdotes are passed around like a hot potato, although I wonder if they sometimes don't end up more like a game of telephone.

When I was pregnant with H, there were several other women in my office who were also expecting babies. For some, it was not their first child, and they were more than willing to share all the gorey details of labor, delivery and motherhood in general. I'm sure our male co-workers really appreciated it.

I was prompted to discuss what about pregnancy, labor or motherhood I wished I'd known beforehand, and Iwas a little stumped at first. (If you'd like to skip the long explanation, feel free to skip ahead to the asterisk at the bottom). Well, there really isn't anything to truly prepare you for labor or delivery, so that's a wash. Here's a few that I could think of off the top of my head; You need to rely on your friends and family to get you through those days when the night before was SOOOOO long, you think you'll die. You need to enjoy your baby, because the baby-ness is gone quickly, and then enjoy your toddler, because that will leave too. Let your husband help you out...it's his kid too! Map out every Starbucks within a 5 mile radius from your house, go there daily and feel free to nurse your baby while you nurse a latte (and it doesn't have to be decaf!) Enjoy taking your baby out to share them with others. It's okay to cry (both of you). You really don't need 500 outfits, there are 4-5 that they'll REALLY wear, so keep that valuable storage space for diapers and wipes. Make social connections with moms of babies the same age as fast as you can! They will be up on the same research and will be where you are, so won't be relying on their vague memories of sleepless nights to advise you.

But above all that, I'd like to have known that you make decisions based one what works, and feels most comfortable, for your family as long as they are safe, and made after educating yourself about the options. You make the best decision you can, given what you know, and the current needs and make-up of your family...and you don't have to justify them to anybody!

Despite adamantly reporting to all who would listen that I would never co-sleep, it was only the second night at the hospital when I discovered that H slept the longest and best when he was sprawled across my chest. I apologized to the nurse when she came in, feeling ashamed that I'd been 'caught' co-sleeping. She stifled a laugh and said 'I co-slept with all my kids. It's how they always slept best.' I felt like I'd just been given permission, and it was great. After reading more about it, and implementing the recommended safety measures, it ended up being a mostly positive experience for our family during the first few months of H's life. I already have a co-sleeper ready for when Baby C comes.

Perhaps one of the hardest things about parenting is that the safety guidelines and philosophies change so much from generation to generation. The balancing act that results from following the current advice of 'professionals' while explaining the reasoning for not following the advice of your parents or parents-in-law is quite exhausting. It's really tricky to explain that current evidence and understandings conflict with past practices, while at the same time being sensitive to the fact that it will inevitably be translated as 'you did it wrong.' Ahh, the joys of parenting live on.

*In short, I'll use the words of the famous Isley Brothers; 'It's your thing, do whatcha wanna do.'

This post was inspired by the Blog Blast prompt from the Parent Bloggers Network, in conjunction with their promotion of the new Discovery Health docu-drama Deliver Me, which follows three female OB-Gyn's who are attempting the delicate dance of balancing family, work and friends. For more information, and a chance to win a fabulous prize, click here .

Horton Hears a Who!

I was at Borders recently to pick up the latest tome that we're reading for my mom's group book club, when I saw a huge display of Dr. Seuss' Horton Hears a Who! After hearing that it was being made into a movie, I'd been looking for the book as I have a lot of fond memories of it from childhood.

Until that day, I had only been able to find it in pop-up form. I may as well just give H a $20 bill and let him go to town with it, because I spend the two weeks after buying a pop-up book systematically throwing away torn out shreds, and finding a book that is devoid of illustrations. I bought the 'plain' version of the book immediately.

I took it home and read it to H during our pre-nap story time, knowing that he would like it if not only for his current obsession with elephants.

I know that the theme of the book is all about the value of life ('A person's a person, no matter how small'). But it also talks about dying and trying to protect those that are more vulnerable that us. I'm not surprised that I didn't remember, or pick up on this when my Great-Aunt Stella was reading it to me at the tender age of 5, but it made me pause.

How do we talk to our kids about death? I know that for my mom, that time came when I was in the first grade, and the very same aunt who'd recited the rhymes of Mr. Geisel to me died. My mom was horrified when I candidly asked her, while preparing for the funeral, if we could bury Aunt Stella in the back yard so that if we missed her too much, we could just dig her up and look at her. She immediately called her best friend who reminded her that I did not understand the glamorous parts of death. You know; decomposition, rigor mortis, etc.

My mom explained to me that Aunt Stella would have to always live in my head and my heart, because we don't look at the person's body anymore after they're buried. She left it at that, but I'm convinced that the vague explanation is why I quickly developed a morbid curiosity for anything that it seemed we weren't supposed to know about. Kind of like when she explained conception by saying that a mom and dad just really love each other and God makes a baby come...hmmmm...interesting.

How much information is too much, and how much is just enough to leave kids' imaginations to come to their own conclusion? My friend Alex recently had to go through this after losing her Aunt and facing a plethora of questions from her very inquisitive four year-old. She seems to have handled 'the death talk' really well, but it's just so tricky. Hopefully I'll be able to just avoid the topic for a long time.

To Everything Turn! Turn! Turn!

Today J and I celebrate our fifth anniversary. So much has changed over that span of time, yet we have had one huge constant; each other.

This morning, after dropping my friend L to stay with her friend for the last night of her East Coast vacation, I was staring out the window as the Mass Pike carried J, H and I home. My mind was wandering as it will at such times, and I somehow landed on the insistence by some who feel the 'negative' side of marriage is that you can only sleep with that one person for the rest of your life.

Something about that has always bothered me, because it makes it seem as if having that one partner will be unfulfilling. Having a healthy physical relationship with your spouse is a huge part of marriage, and I know that if you're compatible in the bedroom, and stimulating to one another in life's other arenas, you can be happy for a lifetime. Talk of the seven year itch and other feelings of restlessness contribute to the sense that monogamy equals monotony.

I looked over at J as he was driving home and then glanced in the backseat to see H fast asleep, mind again wandering.

Just after we'd had H, we were asked by someone close to us if our sex life had changed. J and I looked at each other and tried to contain our laughter because, quite frankly, sex was the last thing on our minds. At that point, if I had to choose sleep over sex, I chose sleep. Mind you, this was when H was barely two months old, and I felt like a glorified dairy cow with narcolepsy.

Our friend, who was newly engaged, responded that that was something that made him nervous about having kids. This was the opposite of the impression that I wanted to give, but I think it's also a reality of the ebb and flow of any physical relationship. I'm thinking it's not fast and furious all the time for most people unless you have some kind of disorder. Several months later, I was happy to report to our friend that everything was back on track in Lovah-ville. Although, at that point I think he'd forgotten about his earlier curiosity and politely tried not to shudder.

Back to the Pike; I let my inner thoughts bubble over to the good old outside voice and murmured, 'I think that when people get married, instead of looking at it like they can only have sex with that one person for the rest of their lives, they should approach it as they are the only person who gets to have sex with their spouse. It should be viewed as a privilege, not a hindrance." J, who was not privy to the prior fifteen minutes of rumination in my mind, nodded his assent and then half-smiled asking 'what made you think of that?'

Here's to another 70 years of you and me keeping life interesting, J.

An Inconvenient Truth

When faced with the prospect of moving all of our worldly possessions across this great nation, J and I (with me being the spearhead of the movement) decided that it would be best to reduce our possessions by at least one. That decision made, we traded in both my Ford Focus (aka the Poor Man's Jetta) and his '96 Ford Ranger in order to "get into" a new Ford Freestyle. Not only did this make economic sense in reducing the number of cars to drive 3000+ miles, it was also made keeping in mind that we planned to have at least one more child over the next five years, making a car with ample room very appealing.

As I would not be working outside the home, I started getting visions in my head of loading H up in the stroller and walking to the library, the farmer's market, the antique shops and all the other great things that would be in walking distance of our new apartment according to Googlemaps. I could just feel the pounds melting off my thighs.

In my deluded state, I failed to consider two of the biggest factors that would make the one-car family model result in an ultimately huge inconvenience;

1. There is no sidewalk access within one mile of my home, and
2. When you don't have a car, and you want to, you have to take your husband to work and pick him up...something that's fine if the job is 9-5, not so fine if you're lugging your toddler in a sleepy stupor at midnight to get your husband after his shift, only to find you have to scrape the eight inches of snow that have fallen since you finished your errands that afternoon.

Yes, it soon became clear that the dream would not become the reality. We had to face it, we needed two cars. At the six month 'check-in' about which I've previously written, J had announced that he'd get a second car in order to ensure that I could have our mommy-mobile full-time.

Then a week passed. I gingerly asked him, after secretly scouring Craigslist for used cars, if he planned to buy an older car for under 5k, or to finance a newer car, or if he'd thought anymore about it. He said that he hadn't really thought about it. Hmmmm...funny, because ever since he'd mentioned it to me, it was all I could think about. The thought of being stuck at home with two kids and no outlet was more than a little frightening to me, but I was loathe to voice that just yet. Granted, J had been working a lot of hours, so didn't have the free time that I did to research and finalize a deal. However, I'm known to have a one-track mind, and you really shouldn't commit to something with me, unless you're ready to go full boar.

At that time, J said that he'd been thinking about leasing a car for two years, since we'd most likely not want to haul two cars back across the country at the end of residency. Sweet! As you can imagine, I was on the phone with dealerships the next day in order to get their leasing specials.

It's now the end of March, and we each had friends in town during overlapping periods of time, lasting about two weeks. This was really the first time that J and I hadn't solidly coordinated our schedules in order to ensure that he wasn't left waiting, and I wasn't without a car. J had to take the final portion of his licensing exam during two of the days that my friend L was in town, and had to work during some of the time that his friend T was here.

Twice, he was left waiting for an hour or so while I finished what I needed/wanted to do. After the second incident, which included me brattily bringing to his attention that it was irritating only because it was the first that it had inconvenienced him, he announced that he was ready to spend some serious energy looking for a car. I've found people generally don't make a serious effort to remedy a situation unless the inconvenience directly impacts them.

You know what they say, fool me once...and J is certainly no fool.