Becoming a mom of two

Our parenting skills have been honed over the last two years of parenting Wells. I am way more relaxed as mom. And, what I really mean is my emotions have calmed down. The love is the same. The devotion is the same. The sacrifice is the same. The changing factor is that I am not experiencing those same first time mom overwhelming emotions of needing to be there every single second.

My first time out of the house without Wells, I went to Target and the mall. Two stops in less than two hours, I could barely make it home fast enough. I believe, it is natural to want to be with your breastfeeding child. I really couldn't ever clear my head enough to go without him. Times have changed and I've gained mommy wings as a mom of two.

I have such a special relationship with Poppy, but it looks different than my relationship with Wells. Becoming a parent for the first time was so much more life changing. Ted and I cried for days on end, because of the life that we could hold against our chests. Becoming a parent for the second time wasn't as life altering. It actually went so smoothly. We haven't had any 'oh shit, what have we done' moments.

If I were to use one word to describe my children as babies, I'd use busy for Wells and relaxed for Poppy.

We really had an easy go with Wells as a baby or so we thought. He was a chill for the most part. He would cry in the car and didn't love anyone but us holding him, besides my mom, for longer than a few minutes. Otherwise, he was so easy to care for. He was always active. He started rolling at five and a half weeks from back to belly. A week later, he was rolling both directions. He came out of me with head control and strength. By Thanksgiving, he was just shy of four months and sitting up unassisted. Two weeks later, he started army crawling. By Christmas, he was crawling just before he made five months old. I was constantly watching him.

If my calculations are correct, which I am most positive they are, Poppy was born at 37 weeks. She was asleep from two and a half months. She finally woke up just before she made three months and we've put her to work.

Poppy has been less physical than Wells as a baby. Poppy puts herself to sleep. Poppy smiles all day long. Poppy lets anyone hold her for whatever amount of time. Poppy takes a bottle (!) cold or warm. (I never pumped with Wells.) Poppy breastfeeds, but doesn't need to breastfeed to sleep or 24-7. She is curious about the world and can entertain herself easily. She laughs. She smiles. She is happy. She barely cries. She sleeps 12-13 hours at night not waking once.

Wells was easy to care for. I could fix anything and everything for Wells with a boob. He loved to breastfeed. He loved to breastfeed in the middle of the night and all day long. He was overall happy. He was so curious about the world. He made sure he could touch, see, and experience everything on his own. He was independent as long as I was right by his side.

As a new parent of two children, I am learning to embrace the differences, celebrate their uniqueness, and foster their growth in their own ways. Ted reminds me when I start comparing Poppy to Wells. Poppy isn't Wells and will figure out the world in her own way.

As a mom of two, I am learning to foster their growth and balance their needs in ways unique and special to them.

EXFOLIATE.

At a holiday meal a few years ago, someone alerted me that Wells was about to eat something under the table as the meal was being cleared. I quickly peeked under and came up with a wave of my hand 'Oh, it's just turkey'. Thankfully, it was shredded and not cubed. There was nothing to worry about.

Over a year ago, as I was adapting to island life, I realized Wells may be eating a lot of sand. Beach and snacks are going to mix and I felt okay about it. On play dates, I realized some moms weren't okay with this and used corks (aka pacifiers) to keep the sand at bay. Childhood should be filled with mud pies. You can't have pie that you don't at least taste, right?

One day, Wells was eating sand crusted apples on the beach. He finished them and we were walking to take another dip in the aqua blues. This is when I looked to my left at an older local gentlemen in his tight-y whitey's. Oh, he's in his underwear on the beach. Okay. Wait, what is he doing!

Older gentlemen in his tight-y whitey's exfoliating his entire body (head to toes) WITH SAND.

Our snacks were never crusted in sand again! 

What Health Professionals Were Talking About During My C-sections

Below is my story about the difference in atmosphere between a vaginal birth (labor) and a non-emergency cesarean. It is my story about birthing my babies in between conversations of the personal lives of my medical team. Also, I never thought I'd ever post a picture behind the curtain, but here I am,  posting it above - excuse my wrinkly forehead.

Contractions were rolling in less than one minute apart. I could barely catch my breath between them. My husband looked beat up from lack of sleep and constant attention to each of my groans. We had been laboring for two full days non stop. Our birthing suite was calm, perfectly lit with flickering battery operated candles. I barely noticed the nurse tiptoeing in to listen to the baby each hour. My midwife would come in to assess how my labor was progressing. If she needed to speak she used soft, hushed tones. Looking back, I realize although my labor was intense, it was serene.

My birthing suite was a sanctuary and everyone who entered respected it as such.

Skip forward a day and a half, I was laying practically naked in a sterile room and all spotlights were on me. The room was bustling with my medical team. They were laughing and swapping stories about having martinis at a nearby club. The anesthesiologist approached the table, I didn't really hear anything he said. And it wasn't because I was still in active labor with pushing contractions, I was just processing how incredibly good looking he was. My midwife reiterated his instructions and I positioned myself against her curling over my pregnant belly as he administered the spinal. The spinal was in and I'm laid back on the table. I was drugged almost unconscious, but awake enough to hear, see, smell, and -I'd soon realize- throw up. My husband enters stage left, I greet him with a sheepish grin. He looked nervous. Everyone was still talking all at once. I closed my eyes and forgot for a second that I was about to birth my firstborn son. With my eyes closed, I would have thought I was sitting at a bar on UPenn's campus.

A few minutes later, my son is presented to me and I turn my face away to throw up.

Two years and two days later, I was 1,600 miles away from the West Philadelphia hospital where my son was born. I was fully present as I entered the OR for my scheduled c-section. My daughter was locked in transverse position which had landed me on the table again. The sweet nurse assisting my prep insisted I looked like Kelly Ripa. I found it amusing as I still felt like a whale with my bulging pregnant belly and plump cheeks. The anesthesiologist approached the table and greeted me, he was an eye sore compared to my last experience. I was trembling this time and not because I was in active labor, but out of fear. Laying back on the table, my five senses were still intact. I sized up the room and located the exit, hoping to find my husband making his way inside the OR. I glanced to the window just right of the door and met a familiar face. Making uncomfortable eye contact, I straightened and stared at the ceiling. The man in the window was the second doctor who would be assisting in my surgery. He also is the gentleman who sits next to my family in church. I've enjoyed listening to him sing beside me on several Sundays. For some reason, sitting on a table exposed and finding him looking towards me seemed strange.

I find the OR dated similar to most establishments in the Virgin Islands. The spinal was starting to take effect so I clenched my fists hoping to keep feeling in my hands so that I could touch and feel my baby when she would be presented to me. My husband entered the room. The nurse sitting behind me introduced herself to him. After a few introductions, we realized the nurse lives by some of my husbands coworkers. She mentioned to my husband that she thinks I look like Kelly Ripa which made Ted laugh too. My OB walked in and semi greeted us. I don't think she likes my husband. The assisting doctor walked in with warm greetings. Both doctors took their seats on either side of the table. They cut me open in almost silence, save some whispering that I couldn't quite make out. I felt continuous tugging and started to worry. My nurse reassured me everything was going well after I question how long it was taking. Finally, I heard my baby girl. My husband was called over to receive her. He cut the umbilical cord and watched as she was weighed. He brought her by my face and my nurse snapped a picture.

Soon after our first meeting, my husband exited with our new baby girl.

After my husband and newborn had left the room, the conversations started flowing. My OB explained her plan of retirement to the assisting doctor. Patients like me, pregnant and giving birth, are far too time consuming and she hopes to stop accepting them. She would like some easy patients, not ones that are demanding of her time, for the remainder of her career. She also gave a timeline for when she plans on retirement. I finally understood her annoyance with me the last nine months.

There is something sacred about bringing a life into the world.

While I never planned to bring my children into the world through surgery, I also didn't plan on hearing about retirement plans seconds after my child's birth. It seemed distasteful. In my original and hopeful birth plan, I had dreamt of glowing faces, my husband crying, my midwife pleased, a breast crawl, and my baby with me at all times. The births of my two children have played out drastically different. I do not feel like less of a woman because I didn't have a vaginal birth. I felt brave making decision that went against what I wanted. I felt brave making my requests known. I plead with everyone involved to give me time to connect with my son and daughter on the OR table or soon after leaving the OR. I plead to breastfeed as soon as possible. I plead to be with my husband and my baby. At times, I felt like my pleas where just another noise in the midst of OR chatter.

What made me feel like less of a woman was that I was treated more like a a surgical patient and not a birthing mother. 

I was never in an emergency situation with either birth of my two children. I am truly grateful for healthy deliveries and the ability to have medical help, including surgical delivery, when it is needed. Since cesareans are more common in our culture today, I would like to speak up about giving birthing moms a sanctuary rather than a frat or retirement party in the OR. Let's make birth by surgery a motherly experience with glowing faces and leave the table chatter until after.

My husband and I hope to have another baby or babies. I still hope I can have a redemptive VBAC; but, if I end up having another cesarean so be it. I now know what I will request. I will ask for a sanctuary even in the bright lights of the OR. I will ask for respect in my moment of becoming a mom again to a new life.  Not just during the few seconds the baby is presented to the side of my face, but during the whole birth experience from entering and exiting of the OR.

Potty Training Notes I

Ted and I have been talking about potty training Wells seriously for the last month. We started to really notice little signs of readiness. I always thought I would want to potty train while I was pregnant. I am running to the bathroom so often, he might as well be going with me. Originally, I thought about trying it around 18 months. When that time came around, I was weaning Wells from breastfeeding and definitely did not see signs of readiness on either of our parts.

A few clues to know that Wells was possibly ready to be potty trained:

At the beach or pool, he would always tell me either right before he started to pee or as he was peeing.

At home, he would talk about making a "stinky" as he was either peeing or pooping in the diaper.

He started to want to be changed immediately after wetting or pooping in his diaper. He would get a new diaper and lay on the floor waiting. 

Those few clues started us in wanting to test the waters. I also knew that it's now or months after I have baby #2. I was nervous about starting wondering if he was really ready or if I was going to be pressing the issue. I put it off for two weeks as I had doctor appointments and fun play dates to entertain us and keep us out of the house. Then, I decided to give it a go. If anything, I'll see how day one went and see if it's a total disaster fest. Maybe I would reevaluate need be even though most encourage you to stick to it once you start.

The plan.

Our plan was to stay home all week and try the go naked approach with using the big potty and training potty. I really want him to learn on both and mainly the big potty, but our bathrooms are so far away from our main playing area that I knew I needed a closer potty for him. We would encourage him to try to use the potty. If he started having a accident, our goal was to catch it in action and mid-stream move him to the potty to finish his business. We would reward pee and poop in the potty with one of his favorites - chocolate chips (other people use stickers, but he wouldn't care about those). After spending time naked around the house, I plan to put him in underwear as round 2 before heading out to our normal weekly activities. We will put him in diapers for nap time and bed time.

The prep. 

Sunday night, we rolled all the rugs up in the main areas of the house that we would be using. I made sure we had plenty of paper towels and spray cleaner for accident clean up.

Day one.

Once Wells woke up, Ted took his diaper off and talked to him about going pee and poop on the potty. We set up a training potty in the living room and he also walked him to the hall bathroom. He set him on the toilet to see if you needed to go and he didn't. He had two accidents before I woke up.

I woke up and took over as Ted was leaving for work. I spent the morning asking him to sit on the potty. Every time he would pee in the potty, we would sing and dance. He was so excited and really got into the praise and absolutely loved his reward of a chocolate chip.

He had one accident while playing with toys. I noticed he was going and got him and sat him on the pot. I told him he could finish peeing on the potty. We cleaned up the pee on the floor and talked about going on the potty next time. No shame, I explained accidents happen.

Later, Wells was playing on the steps, stopped, and ran to the potty to make a little dime size poop. You'd think he scored his first touchdown. I clapped, danced, and sang my praise. We took the training potty, added water to get the poop up, and poured it into the big pot. I let Wells flush the toilet and we said goodbye to the poop.

At nap time, I put Wells in a diaper and let him do his normal nap routine. When he woke up, his diaper was full of pee. He laid down for me to change it. I took it off and let him throw the diaper away. He was naked again. I showed him where the potty was and told him to tell me when he needed to go.

Day two.

Wells was not happy when Ted initially took off his diaper after waking up. After five minutes, it didn't seem to bother him anymore. He didn't have any accidents nor did he use the bathroom until after Ted left for work. Midmorning, I knew he needed to go both pee and poop. I keep encouraging him to sit on the either the big or training potty. He didn't pee after waking up for several hours. He did pop a little speck that we applauded, flushed, and awarded with a chocolate chip.

Since I knew he probably needed to pee and/or poop, I was concerned he was holding it back. He ate his normal breakfast and mid morning smoothie, but didn't really want any water (which is unlike him).

He started asking to put a diaper on. I knew he only wanted to poop in the diaper. I just kept encouraging and giving him opportunities to poop on the potty. I worried this would create some kind of fear of pooping, but stuck with the plan.

Our morning was pretty uneventful for times on the potty, but he had no accidents. Before lunch and nap time, he went pee-pee in the potty and seemed to empty his bladder. After lunch, I put a diaper on him for nap time. He slept. He woke up. He peed and pooped in his diaper during or just after waking up from nap. I changed his dirty diaper and let him throw it away. He asked for me to put him in another diaper, but I reassured him that he can use the big potty now and diapers are only for sleeping. It seemed to appease him.

The afternoon was uneventful with one pee on the potty before Ted got home. Ted got home and were all in our bedroom. While we were talking, Wells rushed off to the potty and went by himself. Woooohooooo! Praise, reward, and a goodbye flush! As we were preparing dinner, Wells had a little accident but ran and sat on his potty right afterwards.

The biggest thing about day two was he was saying peepee and poopoo more often. He was excited when he actually made it to the potty and he expressed some bladder control.

At the end of the day, I didn't feel that successful. I still questioned if he was ready and really learning. I also was exhausted and felt a little overwhelmed. Maybe I was a little crazy to start all of this while 8 months pregnant? Nevertheless, we were sticking to it. It has been helpful for me to be distracted from sitting on any furniture. Instead I've been sitting on my birth ball, squatting, and doing all my exercises to turn baby #2 out of breech position. (We haven't been sitting on our couch because we don't want Wells on the couch in case of accidents.)

Day 3.

Wells only fussed a little bit when Ted took off his nighttime diaper. He didn't use the potty until after Ted left for work.

His first pee of the day ended up in an accident as we were climbing different toys (one of his favorite things to do) and jumping off. I immediately moved him as he was still peeing to the potty and he finished on the pot. I still praised him for having some go into the potty and reminded him that next time when he feels like he has to pee to tell me so I can help him get to the potty.

After that accident, we had a really great day. He would sometimes run and sit to pee without me asking if he needed to go. Other times, I'd see clues that he may have to go like when he would hold himself and then I would ask him if he wanted to sit on the potty. He was drinking lots of water which helped give us good practice all morning.

He also would run and sit on the potty to pass gas. I would praise and reward him the same as if he actually pooped. He made his first very large poop on the main potty today was so happy to say 'bye bye poop' as he flushed it down the toilet. Victory dance and chocolate chip score!

I put a diaper on him at nap time and took it off without any meltdowns when he woke up.

I was feeling really encouraged about this process throughout the day. I feel like it's clicking and we are getting into a good groove.

When Ted came home from work, we all headed to the pool. We brought Wells to the pool bathroom before he got in the pool and he peed. We tried again before we came home, but he didn't go. It was a great first outing and felt so good to get out of the house.

Send us all the positive potty vibes you can muster.

I'll be back with more updates as we continue our 'Potty Training Bootcamp'.

Let's Be Real: My Toddler Hates The Church Nursery

My world has been flipped upside down these last few months, due to the fact that I'm faced with a huge issue: my nineteen month old hates the church nursery. I have developed a huge anxiety of my own towards the church nursery and it has also changed my view of my otherwise pretty well behaved son.

One Sunday, I overheard a fellow mother as she spoke to another mom about my son with no grace at all and a little pinch of disgust. It really bothered me and gave me even more reason to worry about leaving my son. I began to wonder if he will ever adjust or if I should even trust the other parents to care for him in the first place.

I've spent time prepping him for church by praising how great it's going to be. I remind him of how he will love to play with the certain toys in the closet sized nursery.

Each time we start heading towards the nursery, he clenches his body and cries. He's sweats and his noose starts running. Pushing my own fears aside, I always try to play up how fun and make the situation seem positive assuring him I will always return to pick him up after the service. We aren't even out of the weeds when it's our week to work in the nursery. He clings close in fear that we will leave.

Our church nursery is parent run which means we all take turns watching the children on a rotating schedule. There are a variety of parents with different styles each week, some more comfortable than others.

It's a hard situation to land myself in, not to mention my child.

After church, I return to get him and he whines until we are in the car and heading home.

The rest of the week: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday... he seems to be fine. He plays with friends, is left with a few different sitters who say he settles after we initially leave (and has fun), enjoys play dates, isn't clingy at home with me or ted, and runs far away from me when we are out. He is hesitant with people he is unfamiliar with, but tends to be warm with time and the more we are around someone.

After months of dealing with Sunday's, I was starting to feel like my son was this horrible monster and had serious problems. I had started to let myself feel this way after listening or feeling shamed by other people at church. Recently, I realized that my son is a good kid - he just hates the church nursery.

My google bar has been widely used for help: toddler separation anxiety, my toddler hates church, spoiled rotten, etc to search for answers or other moms dealing with similar behavior and specifically at church.

I've come to realize through my research, I am not alone.

Some days (or most days), I want to give up and stop going to church altogether. Why? Because it would be easier. I wouldn't have these feelings that my son is misbehaved or not "well adjusted", but I simply don't believe this is the answer either.

My next attempt is volunteering to help create a toddler program with another mom where we can sing, read, and have a craft time.

I don't know how Wells will respond to this change of pace. I worry about how I will be able to fulfill this role with my toddler still having problems with adjusting to church life. I've just decided to keep trying, one foot in front of the other while staying consistent with encouraging interaction with church and the nursery.

Parenting a child who is raised in church, a whole other aspect to add to my writings and thoughts with my "Raised In Church" book I hope to finish one day.

I'm learning the need to pray for Wells throughout the week, trusting that eventually it will get better.

I am also wondering if this situation damaged him for his entire tot life, omg. Will one lady in a closet holding him upside down at a odd church nursery forever haunt us? I surely hope not.

Better Together with Olivia from For Me

Olivia is a stay at home mom of one living in Portland, OR. She is a Young Life leader, lover of organization and passionate about community and relationships. She, on occasion, blogs over here 
(trying to get back into it post baby), instagrams here and pins here.

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My husband and I are very different. We were raised different, communicate different, have different philosophies on parts of life. I've always counted this as a good thing in the long run, that we would sharpen each other, challenge each other and help each other to grow. However, over the last few years and the beginning of our marriage, it has been known to pull out tension in us.

Our daughter had complications when she was born in August. She aspirated fluid in her lungs when she came out and had to be rushed to the NICU to be put on a ventilator. After 5 days with lots of complications, ups and downs, and the healing power of Jesus, I'm grateful to say we got to take home a healthy, happy girl with no long term effects whatsoever.

Those 5 days in the hospital changed our marriage. Our daughter felt like this first thing that my husband and I felt the EXACT same about. Our love for her and our fight for her life was in unison. The Lord, as always, used a hard situation to bring my husband and I closer than we have ever been. I was so in love with him watching him take care of me, and our daughter so well. Those parts of our personalities that were not in sync didn't matter during that time.

In these past 5 months of being new parents, we have tried to hold onto this truth. We pray that our sweet girl continues to bring us closer together and never apart. We love her the same, she means so much to both of us and there shouldn't be anything like contrasting parenting approaches to make us drift apart.

A few things I have learned along the way:

1 //  Know that the way your husband goes about things; changes diapers, bedtime routine, so many little things, is going to look a little different than the way you do it. Choose not to correct them as dads, let them do it the way they want to. It's not wrong, just different.

2 // Continue to look at the bigger picture. You created life together, there is nothing more special than that.

3 // Your relationship with The Lord comes first, then your marriage, then your child. Don't get this order mixed up or make your child an idol in your life.

4// Turn off the TV (still working on this one...) We haven't had many date nights out without our girl and we can't always do that so we need to make quality time out of the time we do have together. We're trying to get creative but it's hard, we are lazy... Card games? Suggestions welcome.

Praying for us all, that we see a little bit of the way our Creator loves us because of the new, real, unconditional love that we have for our children and hopefully our husbands too.

1 Corinthians 13:7 // Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

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Better Together is a mini series where I'll be featuring a few of my blog friends who are new moms. We all are figuring out what it looks like to reconnect and relate as a couple in light of parenthood. If you would like to contribute contact me at t_varnado@hotmail.com

New Mini Series: Better Together

February is the perfect month to have a major pinterest moment. There is something to pink and red actually working well together. A month to celebrate flowers and delicious food. The whole hype of Valentine's Day is overrated to me, but I love celebrating anything so I'm on board. Better Together is a mini series where I'll be featuring a few of my blog friends who are new moms. We all are figuring out what it looks like to reconnect and relate as a couple in light of parenthood.

Pre-baby, Ted and I didn't follow any guidelines for our relationship together. It just happened. Butterflies and date nights. I wasn't pinning 25 date ideas or 10 ways to love your husband. Our relationship was organic and fun.

Post-baby, there is a contender for attention, affection, and energy. There also is a lack of date nights, alone. We cart Wells with us everywhere. Early on he would sleep anywhere which worked for us. Now he is so happy to be out especially at full restaurants, malls, and the park which also works for us. He loves people watching and see new sights.

Date night #1 was scheduled and rescheduled three times. Our friends lovely mom offered to watch Wells while we went to a restaurant near their house. Finally our plans came through, we dropped him off and went away for 1 1/2 hours. It was odd. Nice, but odd. Being away from Wells hasn't come naturally for me. Being just 'me & ted alone again' hasn't really come naturally either. Wells is the new piece to our puzzle and I'm sorting to figure out the balance of letting him be independent from the most important relationship in our house, me and Ted. (Months later, I finally got a pretty straight answer that Wells was pretty terrible the entire night, crying his little heart out.)

Date night #2 wasn't much because we were heading to Ted's work Christmas party. I'll call it a date because we dressed up, paid a babysitter, and were alone without Wells. This time, my heart was settled and I wasn't worrying too much about Wells. I enjoyed the time away, but it wasn't just 'me and  Ted'. We were talking to co-workers and bosses. We won a flatscreen television and gift cards. We ate dinner, took a picture together, and headed out early. When you have a babysitter on the clock you don't want the clocking running wild. (From what I've heard, Wells was better this time. He played, ate, and was sleeping upon our arrival.)

Date night #3. This one I had been dreaming of for days weeks months! The one where I could clear my head and jump into a nice evening with Ted. No worrying. No fret. We were visiting my mom. My mom who is so good with Wells. Wells is so good with my mom. Even if he wasn't good with her, I probably wouldn't feel that bad about leaving him with her. She. Is. My. Mom. This whole set up would be great. We get a night away, finally. I've waited for this for 5 months. AND. It. Didn't. Happen. My mom was being pulled in every direction caring for my grandparents and helping my brother with his kids. She was needed elsewhere which wasn't her fault or ours. But, Ted and I knew we probably should adjust our plans because of the load on her plate.

We are 6 months and 2 weeks out. Happy to be parents to a wonderful kid. Learning to be parents and lovers at the same time. Fighting for special moments just the two of us. Figuring out balance. Managing expectations. Trial and Error.

It's been trial and error with finding time to be just us. It's a good fight and one that I hope we always have. Do I think we should put more effort into date nights, yes. Do I think we are suffering without them, not necessarily. Our lives look different now and we are figuring out what works. When Wells is asleep for the night, napping or playing independently we try to use these times wisely. Sometimes it may just be watching television together, but we try to have quality time (our love languages) just talking, cuddling, and being just the two of us. Minimal distractions, just us which has been good, sooo good. Although it's more of an effort now to figure out how to redefine 'us', we are putting one foot in front of the other together. I believe it is very important to keep the two of us 'Ted and Tamara' without Wells. He's apart of us, true. But, our priority for him and for us rests in the two of us together.

We are better together. Together in our marriage. Together as parents. Figuring life out, together.

My take on raising kids in the city

i don't have kids. but i was nanny for several years. after a few of my conversations with people lately i decided to write a little post about my thoughts. a lot of people look at me like i'm crazy when i mention i would love to raise kids in the city. they just assume suburban life is easier, safer, and overall better. i call that ignorance. opps, i did say that.

city life is busy. it's also full of activities specific to kids. free play groups, mom meet ups, classes, reading times, & many parks scattered throughout. on the other hand, the world is at the tips of your wallet & you can find anything & everything to be involved with for a little pocket change or top dollar. the community you find in the city is better than most extended family.

kids in the city know their neighbors and not just the ones that live on their street. the playground brings your neighborhood out. everyone knows everyone. city kids walk everywhere from the time they start walking. many parents or nannies start taking fresh walkers around a block or two for daily stretch. this helps when the child is older and needs to walk 10+ blocks. city kids walk, scoot, or ride everywhere. they are fearless & know their limits by stopping at the corner. i've never seen a kid on a leash unless it was some tourist outside of independence hall.

instead of carting kids in the car for every activity, they are outside enjoying the day. they are looking at trees, smelling fresh bread (passing your corner bakery), or waving hi to their friends across the street. city kids are used to cramped subways, trolleys, & buses. they look forward to rides.

moms of city kids keep slim because they too walk everywhere. ted averages walking 5 miles a day & I average about 2. mom's in the city let their child nap in the stroller as they sip coffee at a local cafe with friends or read at the park or do some shopping.

families in the city are prepared for everything when it comes to the weather. rain doesn't stop them. nor does snow. they are adventurers. it's rare you'll find a mom or nanny staying in the house more than 1-3 hours per day. nope, they are out enjoying the day, meeting friends, having play dates, & being involved in their community. most people in the city don't have a backyard but calm a park as their own & spend much more time their than suburban parents spend in their yards.

i'm not saying that i find anything wrong with the suburban lifestyle. i just would rather my kids not have to ride in the car for 1 hour per day. i rather than be discovery new things on a walk or ride in the stroller.

how about crime? well, let me just say there is crime everywhere. a few months ago, i did a little research. i looked up all the police reports on me who lives downtown, my brother who is in college, and my older brother who lives in a suburb. let's just say i'm not the one you should be worrying about.

with that said, i'll probably raising my kids wherever but i'd love to live in the city.