The Working Mom by Kay Luna

Hello, you sweet peeps. Oh, you know who you are: The folks who check out this blog “all the time.” And the ones who don’t think I’m completely insane or too silly. Thank you, for coming back again and again. Thanks for reading and commenting. Please do it more often.

Why the big thank-you? I met two faithful blog readers today for the first time, and talked to one on the phone. It was so fun.

So, here’s a shameless shoutout to three of my peeps: Hello, Brianne, Danielle and Jessica! Woot, woot! And hello to everyone else, too.

In other news, how many of you are sanitizing your hands like MAD today? I. just. can’t. stop.  I don’t want swine flu, and certainly don’t want to pass it onto my little chica, Babycakes, either.

But, seriously, I can’t gauge whether I should go out and buy a face mask and really worry … or if I’m just reading too many stories about it and freaking myself out. What do you think? Are you worried about a possible pandemic?

It’s no secret that I color my hair. It’s usually pretty normal: Brown or highlighted brown.

But sometimes I get bored with that. Yesterday was one of those times.

I decided I wanted to go darker, which I’ve done before, but not in a while. So,  I went … gasp! …  to the salon to get it colored!!!! I know! That’s not very “Savvy Saver” like, but I was tired of doing it myself and getting color all over myself and the bathroom. And it was drying out my hair.

So, it came out darker than it usually looks. Check out the pics (compare the new with my old brown … and please forgive my self-portrait, which is pretty funny to look at, actually).

Well, I thought I could slink back into the office after my hair appointment and ease myself into getting used to the change, but no. You would have thought I came in wearing just a robe or something (which is how I answered the door last night at about 8:30 p.m. or so, when a neighbor lady stopped by in the middle of my bath … Poor woman. I had no idea that I had knicked my leg while shaving seconds before, and I was gushing blood onto the front foyer of my house as we visited. Very gross. Lots of cleaning was required after she left. I hope she didn’t notice … but now I’ve written about it on the World Wide Web, so she might know now.)

But anyway, back to my hair … People gasped and jumped up to look closer. They commented. They laughed. And it was all in good fun, so I laughed along with them, but seriously, I’m starting to get a complex. Teehee!

I’m sure it’ll fade a little pretty soon, but I like it just the way it is. What do you think? Oh, come on. You might as well weigh in on this, too!

I’m working the late shift tonight, so I spent the morning with my little chiquita, Babycakes.

And, ahhh, what a morning. We started it out right (ummm, yeah) at the doctor’s office for a routine checkup for me (armed with a sticker book and a strategically-placed nurse in the room with us, to block her view and prevent her from being scarred for life. haha!).

It went smoothly, but mostly because I prepped her for the visit. I explained that, this time, Mommy would be the one on the patient’s table. She could sit on a chair next to me. I told her the doctor was going to look me over, and then we’d be done.

She was very good. She talked to my favorite nurse there, Ms. Geri, and waited patiently for my exam to be over.

When we were left alone in the room after my exam, the girl cracked me up by telling me, “Come here. I want to look at your ears. I’m the doctor.” Guess she equates doctors with ear exams.

They gave her stickers. As soon as we left the office, though, she insisted I accept the stickers instead. She placed all three of them on my arm. I guess she figured I was the one who went through the exam, so I should get the stickers!

As soon as I could get them peeled off my arm (ouch!) and got into the car, I put them on the steering wheel. So, now I’ve got two American flags and a smiley face looking back at me when I’m driving down the road.

She then decided we needed ice cream. She is an enabler, that one. Ha! She must have had ice cream on the brain, because on the way to the doctor’s office, she pointed to a random building and told me they “make ice cream there,” and giggled with her little scrunched-up nose.

It was a cute request, but Mommy ruled it was too early in the morning to get sugared up with ice cream. We had fruit and yogurt parfaits instead.

We had a fun morning together, despite the doctor’s exam. But my little daughter seems to make all kinds of yucky things fun.

How is your day going?

Here is a random collection of some of my thoughts lately:

* I finally figured out what that nasty, nasty stench (that lingered for a loooooooooooonnng time) in my car came from: a can of powdered formula, stuck in the trunk. That can of formula had to have been more than a year old. And apparently, it had taken on moisture … hence, rotten milk. Disgusting. Mystery solved.

* I’m hanging my head in shame over my neglect to regularly exercise, yet again. I’m especially ashamed after watching — stunned and amazed — a nearly 101-year-old woman LINE DANCING this week at CASI in Davenport. Yes, it was Lilah Bell, for those of you who are wondering. That woman is amazing. I feel like a lazy sloth next to her.

* Please leave a comment or e-mail me at kluna@qctimes.com if you want to chime in on who your “other mother” is for a story I’m working on for Mother’s Day. You know … the woman who seems like a mom to you, but technically isn’t. If you want to tell your story, and help me with my article, please let me know ASAP. Thanks!

* Also, how are you peeps saving money lately? Have any tips to share? If so, let me know.

* And last, but far from least, please keep my colleague and friend, Quad-City Times reporter Tom Saul, in your thoughts and prayers. He suffered a heart attack and is in the intensive care unit at Genesis East. We really miss him.

OK, your turn. What are you thinking about lately?

Happily, I have a loving Mom — but I also have a few “other moms” in my life.

I’ve got an awesome step-mom, Carm, who I think is probably the most loving and accepting “other mom” on the planet. She truly makes me feel like she loves me like her own child, and my kids like her very own grandkids.

And I have a great mother-in-law, Sue.  She ranks as one of the ”Best Grandmas Ever” to not only my daughter, but also my son (who was born almost 7 years before we married into the family).  And she is my all-time best “personal shopper” ever. Haha!

Then, there’s my best friend’s mom, Ann. My friend and I practically grew up at each other’s houses, and we both call each other’s moms our “other Moms.” And they love us, so they don’t seem to mind.

Oh, and who could forget my friend, Grace Whitten? She was like another mom to me when we moved to Clinton, Iowa, so many years ago. I had no family there, but I had Grace, who rejoiced with me and cried with me — and and even picked up my son’s birthday cake and got things settled at his birthday party one year, when I had to work late. I love that lady.

As we get closer to Mother’s Day, all of the focus usually lands on the traditional moms — and as one of those people, I bask in the glory. Ha! But let’s put the spotlight on those other ladies who light up our lives, too.

Who are the “other mothers” in your life? Please share! We’re working on a story about this for May 10.

So, who’s going to the Quadsville meetup tonight? I am!!!

I’ll be there, with Quadsville Mayor Melissa Coulter, starting at 5:30 p.m. at the Bier Stube on the riverfront in LeClaire, and would love to meet as many of you as possible.

Hope to see you there.

And if you’re reading this on the Q-C Times homepage and aren’t sure what/where Quadsville is, please check out and join our online community at my.quadsville.com.

I think it’s official now. I’m becoming my Grandma.

Yep, this morning, I took my first ever fiber pills. Fiber pills!!! Oh, geez, if I could only tell you how many times I’ve listened to Grandma talk about “Bran Buds” and other fiber-filled foods she was eating … and let’s not get started with the Metamucil stories.

For the record, I’m not taking fiber pills for the same reason Grandma is into fiber. I thought it would help improve my “good” cholesterol, which needs a boost, according to my last bloodwork/fitness screening.

But they are called “weight management” type pills on the bottle, which says the fiber is supposed to swell up in your belly and make it feel like you’re full. So far, nada. I’m hungry. I just ate a bowl of soup for lunch here at my desk, and I’m still hungry. In fact, my stomach is growling. 

But I digress. My whole point is — what the heck is happening to me?!! Why am I at the age where I’m even considering adding fiber to my diet?!!

And yesterday, I got home from work and realized that I had been wearing two completely different earrings all day. That is totally something my Grandma would do, and has done (just look at her 50th wedding anniversary party photos from 20 years ago — you’ll see closeups of her holding two very different blue earrings in her hands for the camera!).

I’ve totally skipped becoming like my mother, and went right on to turning into Grandma … and I’m only 34. Is this what having a teenager and a toddler does to a person? Teehee!

So, who else takes fiber supplements? Let’s share the embarrassment!

My 2-year-old girl loves playing outside. LOVES it. So, on Saturday, she played in the warm sunshine, rolling in and piling up grass on herself, looking quite content.

I mean, what kid hasn’t done this before and loved it?!! I know I spent many a lazy weekend and summer days, rolling down grassy hills and getting my pants good and grass-stained. 

But Babycakes probably won’t do that very often in her childhood … because on the morning after her outdoor adventures, she woke up with a fever that kept rising. 

She also had hives on her knees, and a very strange rash that crept down from above her elbow joint to nearly her wrist on the inside of one arm.

Instead of enjoying the big family get-together and Easter-egg hunt we had planned, we spent Easter Sunday taking care of a very sick kid, and even took her to the hospital for blood work.  She saw the pediatrician’s office and even a dermatologist over the past few days.

The consensus? She has an infection that has left her with a really sore throat, and she’s apparently having an allergic reaction … to the lawns she rolled around in over the weekend.

Maybe she’ll grow out of it? Who knows.

I took off Monday and Tuesday to stay home with her, so I could watch that rash and her temp closely. She’s doing much better today, and back at daycare.

While we were home together, we did have a fun time, especially as she started to feel much better yesterday. I could tell she was feeling better when she told me out of the blue that she was going to “run away with the circus.”

What’s her circus job going to be? She doesn’t know, she says.

I’m guessing it won’t be feeding grass to the elephants.  ha!

What have you been up to?

Done with your meal? If not, better wait for your food to settle before you look at this link.

A recently-postpartum woman and her twin sister decided to cook up and eat her placenta. Yep, placenta. Makes my stomach turn.

Oh, they prepared it in a spaghetti-type sauce on noodles and enjoyed the leftovers on panini bread… how do I know? They posted photos, of course.

They say it was great for all the nutrients and vitamins that are in the placenta. And it’s all-natural. Oookaaaayy.

I wouldn’t eat my own placenta. And I certainly wouldn’t eat my sister’s placenta (sorry, ladies). I know other cultures save their placentas, bury them, etc. But eat them? Seriously.

What do you think?

It’s so easy to do with our kids, it’s like we’re programmed to say it: “Great job, honey!”

Say your little one makes a drawing of mostly squiggly lines. Most likely, you say without missing a beat, “Oh, wow, honey. That’s beautiful. Great job!”

Harmless? Probably. But what if you’re “great job”-ing everything they say or do, no matter how, well, average, it truly is — and not just when they’re little, but for the rest of their lives.

Will they come to rely on that praise? How will they learn to do things for their own self-satisfaction, rather than purely for attention and praise from others?

This is the issue brought up in a story, which I thought made for a very interesting read this morning. It really hit home for me, because this is something I struggle with as I raise my own children. I’ve even checked books out of the library recently regarding how best to handle praise, with girls in particular.

I’m working hard to be more aware of how and when I praise my children, because I don’t want them to require me — or anyone else — to lift them up emotionally, and count on others to boost their confidence. I want them to be able to tap into their own inner-strength, which I know they have in abundance. I want them to know that, too.

For example, I now try to praise my toddler for specific accomplishments, like, “Oh, honey, I loved how you drew that monkey. I like that you chose all those pretty colors. That must have taken a long time to make! I like how you focused on getting that done. Great job!”

What’s your take on this issue?