Listerine Healthy Habits for a Lifetime

Valentine's Day in the Trenches was a day of irony.  First thing that morning, I took both Eldest and Middle (and myself) for our first appointments with our new dental practice.  (Remember our bad dental experience?)  The hygienist, who was wonderful, explained that Eldest will need orthodontia eventually for cosmetic purposes (which was a nice way of stating the obvious - that he has buck teeth).

And then it was Middle's turn.  Whose mouth, apparently, is all messed up.  Seems he needs to have ANOTHER tooth pulled.  AND is a prime candidate for "interceptive orthodontia".  Which, when I hear those words, all I hear is $$$cha-ching  cha-ching$$$.

So we are scheduled to see an orthodontist first, in March.  Who will then possibly recommend some more things he needs done with an oral surgeon. 

And then it was my turn.  Don't you hate it when the hygienist asks you if you floss regularly?  Because, for me, I would be lying if I said yes.

Anyway, the hygienist stressed to alllll 3 of us the importance of brushing, flossing and mouthwashing.  Which, I admit, we have never really focused on at home.  Gulp.

*****
That afternoon, the boyz came home from school with all their Valentine's Day loot.  Since when did Valentine's Day become Halloween II, by the way?  Holy candy!

 AND THEN, a big box came in the mail!  The boyz were so excited to see what had arrived:

Seriously!  Dentist appointments, Valentine's candy and my Listerine Healthy Habits for a Lifetime Oral Care Challenge package...all on the same day!  Coincidence?  I think not!

--Did you know that brushing alone misses 75% of your mouth?  (I had no idea either!)

--You guys, there can be more germs in our mouths than there are PEOPLE ON EARTH!

--According to the U.S. Dept. of Health & Human Services, over 50% of children between the ages of 5 and 9 have a cavity or filling (yup, all 3 of mine do...)

So my entire family is participating in the Listerine Healthy Habits for a Lifetime Oral Care Challenge.  This is what the boyz' new setup looks like:

The most important change for us, in starting this challenge, has been the timer.  The boyz now brush, with the timer, for 2 full minutes, twice a day.  They also are eagerly using the Listerine Smart Rinse and are flossing on their own!  (For some reason, my boyz like regular floss, not the floss sticks.  Granted, I find long strings of the stuff all over the place, but hey, if they're using it...)

We many a times have reprimanded Eldest about his yellow teeth and his terrible brushing habits:

Me: "Did you brush?"
Eldest:  (shrug)(mutter)  "Yeah.  Why?"
Me:  "Because your teeth are still yellow!  They look like sandy butter!  Go brush AGAIN!"

We are in the honeymoon stage of this challenge, I admit.  Mouthwash, floss and the timer are all still novelties at this point.  But I'm loving that the boyz are eager with this new routine and are proud to be doing it all on their own. With less sandy butter teeth!

And if their sink constantly looks like this?  I guess it's a small price to pay for good oral hygiene, right?

Disclosure:  I received products and compensation from Johnson & Johnson and The Motherhood as part of my participation in the Oral Care Challenge.  All thoughts and opinions expressed in this post are my own, as always.

Postscript to My Forever Valentine

I definitely intended for yesterday's post to be sappy and sweet.  But today, now that it's not Valentine's Day anymore, I feel like I can tell you the rest of the story.

So yes, there was love, romance and uh, wine.

Perhaps a little too much wine.

For on that February Sunday morning in 1998, I awoke feeling a little *under the weather*.  But my (future) Hubby?  Was giddy with excitement, for it was the day of the Daytona 500!  He couldn't WAIT to just hang at a bar (preferably at the Nascar Cafe, coincidentally right there in Myrtle Beach) and watch race cars zooming around a track.  Over and over.  And over.

(Remember, we were FALLING IN LOVE.  I actually thought his Nascar interest was *cute* at that time.)

It was not.gonna.happen.  My body was rebelling by way of nausea with a side of massive headache.

I suggested that perhaps we simply drive back to Charlotte.  Like IMMEDIATELY.

And he, being the caring and concerned boyfriend, acquiesced.

Except, we didn't make it very far before I needed the car to stop so I could get out.

And puke.

So Hubby stopped at a Dairy Queen.  Where I proceeded to race inside, the sicky sweet smell of grease and ice cream assaulting my already sensitive constitution.  Blech.

I made it to the bathroom just in time.

I spent the entire 3 hour drive back to Charlotte slumped over in the passenger seat with my eyes closed, trying not to moan too loudly.  While my (future) Hubby listened to the Daytona 500 race on the radio, happy as could be.

And to this day?  I have never, ever been able to step foot in a Dairy Queen.  All I can think of  is that sicky sweet smell.

True story.

My Forever Valentine

This Valentine's Day morning, Hubby surprised me with a romantic card and something else that totally touched me - he had saved a cutesy little trinket book that I had gifted to him exactly 13 years ago, on the Valentine's Day before we got married.  (Huh.  So come to think of it, he actually gave me a re-gift.  Bygones.)

You have to understand, neither of us are exactly over-the-top schmoopy and romantic.  But Valentine's Day is special.  It was on Valentine's Day, 14 years ago, that we realized we were in love.  Sappy?  Yes.  True?  Yes.

I remember it clearly.  We had taken a weekend trip together from Charlotte, NC down to Myrtle Beach, SC.  He had arranged everything - hotel on the beach (with a dozen red roses awaiting me in the hotel room), dinner reservations, and wine.

Before dinner, we ventured down towards the beach, and sat on a cute little 2-seater wooden porch swing.  And held hands.  Looking towards the beach, the sunset, and what was ultimately our future.

(Did I really just type that?)

'Tis true.  Looking back on that Valentine's Day weekend in February of 1998, both of us agree that it was that moment on the beach that we realized our relationship was so much more.

I found this photo taken of us on my birthday in 1998 (I insisted on going ice skating), 6 days before that romantical Valentine's Day weekend.  When we didn't know what the future would hold, but we did know that we wanted it to hold us together:

Babies, the both of us!

So Hubby, I know you don't like it when I write about you, but I figured this was an exception.  Here's to 14 years of Valentines with many many more to come.  Forever and always.

My Birthday Party Rant

I open one of the boyz' backpacks and there it is.  The dreaded (to me, anyway) Class Party Invitation.  Meanwhile, my child is thrilled because YAY ANOTHER BIRTHDAY PARTY [WITH CHEAP TRINKETS AND SUGARY CAKE AND] CAN I GO?  CAN I GO?  CANIGO?

Gah.

We have hard and fast Birthday Attendance Rules in our Trenches that we try to stick to.  If neither Hubby nor I has ever heard our child MENTION the birthday boy/girl...then it's a no.

If we already have plans, then it's a no.

If we ask our child if he WANTS to go and he is ambivalent or doesn't care if he doesn't go...then it's a no.

So yes, I do a lot of RSVPing "with regrets".  Remember, I have 3 school-age sons. And a surprisingly huDge number of kids have entire-class parties.  (Sidenote:  Are these parents high??  Or am I really just a crotchety curmudgeon whose poor children are being deprived of the McDonalds/Chuck E. Cheese/Pump It Up overpriced experience?)

Now lest you think that my poor boyz NEVER get to do ANYTHING with their friends, that is hardly the case.  If we are family friends, then it's pretty much always a yes.  If my son expresses interest in attending and shows excitement about the party, then it's (usually) a yes. Trust me, all 3 of my boyz DO go to PLENTY of birthday parties.

You know what I hate though?  (Like the above wasn't already enough?  Heh.)

When there is only a PHONE NUMBER to rsvp!

Doesn't everyone have e-mail?  Parents of the Birthday Child:  Throw me a bone and leave me your e-mail address so I can at least shoot off a quick e-mail to you that my son can't make it.  Quick, easy, painless.  But when you merely leave a phone number, I stall.  I procrastinate.  I hesitate to pick up the phone, lest I actually have to talk to a real, live person.

Issues.  I have them.  Obvs.

So are your children party animals or do you set party-going limits?

Things I'm Loving - February Edition

Ho hum, it's the day before my 39th birthday and I'm feeling pretty blah.  The exercise routine has (predictably) lost steam.  I made it to Level 3, Day 3 of Jillian's 30 Day Shred before puttering out.  Sleep is soooo much more fun at 5am than exercise!

(I need to get back on track.  Which essentially means...I need to start running again.)

Everyone in my Trenches is fighting some sort of head cold, so there's a lot of coughing and sneezing going on.

I am on my second dose of antibiotics to fight a sinus infection.  Except I'm not getting any better, leading me to think that perhaps its just a COLD FROM HELL (I've had it since CHRISTMAS) and not really my sinuses?  Who knows.

Well, this isn't very cheery, is it?

Perhaps I should write about what IS making me happy these days?

Here goes:

We just got a Charming Charlie store in the area and I am hooked!  Have you ever been?  Think Claire's Boutique for adults!  And I love the fact that the jewelry is displayed in the store by color.

Also, this:

Can you say smooooooth?  And a mere 2 of them will do you right.

After more than a year of lusting, I finally bit the bullet and bought myself a pair of Danskos, if nothing but to see what all the fuss is about (well that, and I'm a total sucker for patent leather...):

These are the exact ones I got from 6pm.com.  I have to say, I am now officially a Dansko Believer.

At the beginning of 2012, Hubby and I were kind of bummed that we no longer had a Show to watch together.  (Ok, ok, it was mostly just me.)   Damn Kiefer Sutherland and the demise of 24.

But now, enter Homeland:

Via Showtime on Demand, we are on Episode 5 and both of us are hooked.

And finally, this:

As opposed to BlissDom '10, where I was a first-time attendee; or BlissDom '11, where I was a speaker on the legal panel; this year, for BlissDom '12, I am the First Bliss Coordinator.  So, I am heading up the Newcomer Community Leaders who are heading up the first-time BlissDom attendees.  Make sense?  Anyway, it has been absolutely awesome to be on the inside this year, taking (a very small) part in the planning and coordination of this top-notch production.  I have nothing but admiration and awe for all the women who devote massive hours of time, energy and love into this conference and am honored to play a small bit.  I cannot!wait! to get to Nashville on February 22!

Ok, so what are you loving this February?

Why Yes, I Am Writing a Letter to a Room In My Trenches

Dear Playroom,

It is with bittersweet nostalgia that I compose this ode to you.  You have been there for us from the very beginning--from the time we moved into our Trenches when I was 4 months pregnant with our firstborn.  At first, you were an office.  A dreary space with a lone desk and some random furniture.  But that didn't last for long, as new baby boy after new baby boy joined our family.

In 2005, you were filled with an array of primary colors and numerous baby toys.  The Matchbox car collection took up an entire corner of your space.  The bookcase was filled with easy-to-manipulate baby books.  And drool.  There was a LOT of drool in 2005:

In 2006, you had a little bit of plastic surgery, Playroom.  We gave you a door.  This allowed the boyz to run FULL CIRCLES around the house!  Oh the joys!

(What do you mean I didn't childproof very well?  See, there's a baby gate at the bottom of the stairs!  Just pay no mind to the infant perched precariously on the ladder next to the exposed light socket...)

Year after year, Playroom, you were a constant.  A constant of toys, trains, books and games.

In 2009, electronic devices and sporting equipment started to infiltrate your space:

And in 2010, a keyboard was introduced, along with the resurgence of building blocks and little boys who no longer looked quite so little anymore:

And so, Playroom, this brings us to 2012.  A new year.  New beginnings.  And new ideas for our Trenches.  It's not that we don't need you anymore, Playroom, because we do.  You are just being relocated.  To the entire basement.  You see, the boyz got an Xbox for Christmas, and it's hooked up to the basement TV.  The basement (formerly "Mantown" which Hubby has grudgingly conceded is no longer) is now the new play space for our boyz who are no longer newborns, babies, toddlers or preschoolers. 

And you, formerly well-loved Playroom?  Are getting a makeover!  We thank you for your manymanymany years of service.

Love,
Sarah

The Guilt of Being a Working OUT OF THE HOME Mom

Please allow me to indulge in a little bit of Working Mom Wallowing today.

(The Mom Guilt - it eats away at one's insides, no?)

I sit here, feeling awful.

Baby has been hacking and coughing and sniffling all this week. But he's my toughie. He NEVER EVER complains. (Just wipes his nose on his sleeve and moves on.)

He doesn't have a fever.

However.

I can tell he feels like crap. Yet he has gone to school all week. We have consciously made the decision to send him to school. Because I.have.to.go.to.work.  Because Hubby.has.to.go.to.work.

And please trust me when I say I mean nothing malicious, nothing polarizing by this, but in my mind?  There is NO WAY you can tell me that Work At Home Moms have it just as tough.  I'm not buying it.

The Sick Kid Shuffle is an issue that Moms who work out of the home have to deal with.  A lot.  If I worked from home?  THERE WOULD BE NO ISSUE.  I would keep my child at home with me.  And yes, maybe deadlines would get missed due to tending to a sick child.  But the fact of the matter is that a sick(ish) child would be where he needs to be.  At home.

Hubby and I simply cannot take time off from work each and every time someone has a sniffle.  If so, one of us would be home at least once a week!  But I'm finding it hard rationalizing where I, as a Working Mom, should draw the line.  I need to be a good employee.  I need to not put my boss (who is awesome, by the way) in a position where I'm constantly asking for time away from the office.  I need to get my work done.  As it is, I feel like I'm always needing to rearrange my schedule anyway--4:00 basketball games; parent-teacher conferences; dentist appointments, etc.  I rarely work a full 7:30am-4:30pm work week without some sort of juggling.

Yet mothering absolutely comes first.  (And please know, it should go without saying, that if Baby had even the slightest bit of fever, that we would have kept him home.)

Yet here I sit.  At work.  While Baby is at school.

Still snotting on his sleeve, I'm sure.