Momopoly Closed for Business

What are you doing here? The action's taking place over there.

Why? It's simple, really. I have two kids under four, a resident for a husband, a freelance writing career of sorts, homeschoolers to teach, and a faith life to cultivate. Do I really need two blogs?

After much prayer and deliberation, I've come to the conclusion that no, two blogs is one too many. One blog may even be one too many when you happen to give birth to children who think sleep is overrated

My other blog has more of a regular following, so I've decided to close this one down. However, I shouldn't really say Momopoly is closed for business because I'm keeping the name and most of the content but just moving it over yonder.

You'll still get me airing my dirty laundry - you know those days when I make poor Britney Spears look like a model mom (and make other moms feel like they're not the only ones who occasionally yell at their kids). You'll still get stories about my milky boobs and sleepless kiddos. You'll still get inspiration from small people sharing unexpectedly big thoughts. But you may also get some pontificating here and there on some Catholic stuff that might make you say, "Uh what?" (No, I don't worship statues or practice cannibalism.) Above all, you'll get one mom's online tale of how, with the grace of God, she has become a mommy who "will work for children" no matter the cost (even if it means never sleeping a full eight hours again...oh, dear God, I hope not...).

Please, my loyal friends and readers, consider joining me over there by subscribing at KateWicker.blogspot.com. If you haven't already, give Google Reader a try. It makes your blog addiction much easier to sustain. Plus, you can easily peruse what you want to read on a particular blog and skip over the rest.

Thank you for sharing life in the trenches of motherhood with me. I hope you'll continue to trudge along with me.

Stinky Mom

I'm a stinky mom. Literally.

Madeline: Why can't you stay with me for quiet time?

Me: Because I didn't take a shower this morning.

Madeline: You don't need a shower.

Me: Yes, I do.

Madeline: Why?

Me: Because I'm stinky. (Of course, I'm only jesting with her. I don't really stink.)

Madeline: No, you're not.

Me: Yeah, I am.

Madeline, as she sniffs my face: Ugh. You are stinky.

Me, slightly taken aback: Does my breath smell? (Maybe the morning coffee breath is lingering...)

Madeline: No, it's your skin. It stinks.

I took a whiff of the skin on my arm and it smelled faintly like fruity lotion, but I can't smell my own face. (I tried.) I can only hope she was just trying to get rid of me. Now for that shower I apparently really need...

Write What You WANT to Know

For all you writers out there, here are some more thoughts on the business of writing.

One of the cardinal rules of writing you’ll discover as soon as start reading some of the popular “how to get published” books is to write what you know.

Well, call me a rebel, call me what you may, but I definitely haven’t made myself a career in freelancing by always writing about things I know. Honestly, when I started occasional freelance work at the ripe, old age of 21, I wasn’t exactly brimming with worldly wisdom. (Who is?)

Sure, finding a niche can help. Since joining the Mommy Club, I write a lot of essays about life in the trenches of motherhood. I also frequently write about pregnancy – what to expect and what not to expect. Many of these articles are about things I’ve learned as a parent. But here’s a little secret: I actually started writing about parenting long before anyone ever called me “Mommy.” My journalism career had its roots in a marketing department for a hospital where I covered the parenting beat (among other things) and wrote tons of articles on topics like getting your kids ready for the school year and games to play with your baby.

I’ve gone back and read some of the articles I wrote in my BC (“before children”) days and I have to say writing about getting your child to sleep through the night is a whole lot easier than actually doing it, especially when you have a child who’s more afraid of Mr. Sandman than the Boogedy Man.

I supposed I’d be considered more of a parenting/pregnancy “expert” now that I have two kiddos under four living in my house, but I’m definitely not yet an authority on MRI magnets, managing big families, or homeschooling, or factitious disorder – all topics I’ve covered in articles. But just as I knew I always wanted kids and enjoyed learning about child development, I had a desire to learn more about these topics. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t all that pumped about writing an article on the physics of an MRI machine, but the paycheck for that one gave me enough incentive to start reading up on how the interaction between radio frequency electromagnetic fields and hydrogen nuclei inside the body in the presence of a strong magnetic field can create a crisp image. (See? You can sound like you know a little something about almost anything.))
.
While it can never hurt to have an area of expertise – from politics to parenting and everything in between – one of the things I love the most about being a writer is you never stop learning. You may eventually find a “home” where you most feel comfortable writing. In my case, I’ve recently started narrowing my focus and sticking to parenting and faith-based writing with an occasional health story sprinkled into the mix. But nothing’s off limits. Anything I’d like to know about might be something worth querying. (Don't discount doing PR work for nonprofits you care about or corporations that do interesting work either. I don't do much PR work these days, but this type of writing used to pay a lot of my bills.)

The bottom line is if you're inquisitive and a good writer, you can write about virtually anything. Your job is to convince an editor or publisher that this is true.

So here’s a new writing rule I’d like to toss out there: Write what you want to know.

Perspective

Hers: This fish sure has lived a long time.
Mine: Uh. Yeah, it's been like 16 hours since we welcomed it into our family.

Hers (showing me a wilted weed): Look at this flower. Isn't it beautiful?
Mine: Well, it's not a rose, but...

Hers (as she throws open the curtains in our dining area): See! Oh, now we can see the beautiful morning. We can see the birdies. And dragonflies. (Pushing the curtains open further.) See that birdie at the top of that tree? See? Isn't it big? Oh, it's really high. Look how high it is, Mommy! Oh, there's a robin. A robin! See him? (Spontaneously singing made-up tune now.) A robin! La-la-la. A robin! (Spontaneous singing stops.) They're eating their breakfast, too!
Mine: Okay, how's that for a good morning? Was I just feeling a wee bit tired and grumpy? Not anymore. It is a rather pretty morning. Gotta take this kiddo to see Oklahoma. Then she can belt out "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning" during breakfast.

Hers: Mommy, can we plant dandelions in our garden someday?
Mine: You don't see the weeds. You only see the beauty. Don't ever change.

So much of the way we view life is a matter of perspective. Madeline is a born optimist. Her go-to response to almost any question is "Great."

"How are you doing?"

"Great."

"How are you feeling?" as snot drips out of her nose.

"Great."

"How's Baby Rae?" who just enjoyed an all-night puke fest.

"Great."

"How did you sleep?"

"Great." She woke up, thrashing from a nightmare, not once, but twice.

Go ahead and ask me how I feel to be the mom of such an eternal optimist and I'll probably say, "Great!" (And a bit proud, too.)

Madeline, thank you for your wonderful outlook on life. Thank you for helping me to rediscover the beauty of a dandelion and a summer morning. I love spending time with you and I'm so lucky to be your mom.

The Par-tee!

We celebrated Baby Rae's first birthday on Saturday with the grandparents. It was the perfect shindig. The only bummer is the birthday girl came down with a stomach bug that night and Mommy got to see all that cake and corn in a much less appetizing form in the wee hours of the morning. Lucky for you I only took pictures of the original cake, not the encore one.


The cake (I can't take credit. Nana and Pop crafted this delicious concoction. I made these simple treats on the day of Rae's actual birthday.)



The cake (and corn) eater




Think the hat's big enough?



The birthday girl and her big sis




The birthday girl and Daddy




The birthday girl and Mommy (PHOTO CREDIT: Big sister Madeline)



Is "Top Model" accepting new contestants? (NOTE: We always take a few "serious" family photos at special occasions and at least one silly photo.Yes, this is the silly one.)

Happy Father's Day!

To my own dad and to my girls' Papa, the most generous man I know and the one who gives my babies their first Frito, who can always steal a kiss and make us laugh, the one who works so hard and has never stopped taking care of his little girl...






To my other dad, my girls' Pop, the man who has embraced me as his own daughter and gives up hours (days!) of his retirement to play with his grandchildren so Mommy sometimes doesn't have to, the one who fills our freezer with pork tenderloin and tasty treats and fills our hearts with love...






And finally, to my husband, the father of my children, the man who is more than a figurehead in our family but a real dad who wrestles, kisses, tickles, tucks kids in, and even sometimes vacuums... Thank you for taking care of your girls. We love you.

Where's My Mind?

Is it still in bed? Maybe. Is it here but just a little slow? Definitely.

Once upon a time I actually got paid to edit others' work. I know, pretty scary, considering all the mental gaffes that find their way into my posts. I had to correct at least a half dozen typos I found in my last post over at my other blog. (Please don't hold it against me, okay?) I swear, I read that post this morning before "publishing" and those typos were not there. It's really kind of starting to freak me out how I'm missing things. Oh, and I don't like the fact that I poured yogurt into the top of the peanut butter jar instead of into a bowl during lunchtime either.

That's not all. I once almost brushed my teeth with diaper ointment, put a carton of eggs in the pantry, and spelled my own last name wrong on an envelope (Wiker instead of Wicker). I wish I could say these sort of things happened in my pre-mom days, but they just didn’t or at least not all in a 24-hour time span. I know countless mothers who lament that their brain cells exponentially die off as their waistlines widen with pregnancy and that they continue perishing after their babies have arrived. One friend of mine said that on a particularly rough day in the trenches of mommyhood, she actually sat down on a toilet and almost started to pee before realizing she hadn’t pulled down her jeans or even unzipped them.

But even though diapers and ditsy spells may seem to go hand in hand, I’m vehemently opposed of the notion that motherhood makes us dumber and that raising young children – while society claims it’s very important – is often dull and depraved of intellectual stimulation. For me, the process of teaching and interacting with a young child demands multitasking, acting quick on my feet, and a good dose of creativity. In any given day, I’m part accountant (quickly calculating the estimated cost of the groceries in my cart), part school-teacher (“B is for ball.”), part engineer (erecting a makeshift blockade that will keep a little one from emptying the bookcase for the umpteenth time), part doctor (determining whether symptoms warrant immediate medical care or just some TLC), and part chef (concocting a meal both children will actually eat instead of chucking across the kitchen).

That said, fussy babies, strong-willed preschoolers, a lack of shuteye and all of the responsibilities that little kids bring can undoubtedly zap their share of brainpower. And it’s easy to feel like I'm losing myself and my mind in a world of baby chatter, board books filled with monosyllabic words and Walt Disney.

In spite of the increased typo occurrences, the funny things that sometimes come out of my mouth, and my absentmindedness, I know my kids make me smarter (or at least wiser), not dumber.

I'm wondering, though, what are some things you've done in a tired mommy state? C'mon, spill the beans. (Is that the right expression? I can't be sure.) Make me feel better. While you're at it, do you have any tips on how you boost your cerebral capacity amidst finger paint, talking vegetables, and temper tantrums? I make myself read and write a little every single day. What about you?