ChambanaMoms.com » parenting

‘Girl Talk’: Advice From Mom, Teen Daughters

From The Editors — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 12:49:31 +0000

By Nicole O’Dell

It’s great to be back on this awesome blog to share some fun news with you. I’ve recently had the incredible privilege of compiling an advice Q&A book, “Girl Talk,” with my two daughters and blogging partners, Natalie (14) and Emily (11). And we want to invite you out to the Champaign Family Christian Store on Feb. 4 from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m., where the three of us will be sharing some treats and signing copies of our new book. Come visit!

First, check out some of the issues we cover in our book:

"Girl Talk," written by Nicole O'Dell and her daughters, is a question-and-answer style book for teens. Credit: Nicole O'Dell

Q: My mom is always on me about what I wear. I just don’t see why it should matter to her. I mean, she got to wear the things she wanted to wear when she was young. The styles are different now, though. She won’t let me wear any shirts that show even a fraction of my stomach, and I have to actually bend over in jeans to prove to her that nothing shows in the back, if you know what I mean. She even says there’s stuff in the Bible about the way to dress right. Is that true? What should I do to change her mind?

Q: I have a friend who is pretty skinny, but she thinks she’s fat. … I actually heard her make herself throw up in the school bathroom a couple of times. What should I do about it? Or is it none of my business?

Q: I recently lost a lot of weight and started high school at the same time. I’m getting all sorts of attention from boys, and I just don’t know what to do about it because it’s so new to me. I kind of like it … but I’m nervous. What should I do?

That last one is a question I would have asked if I’d written to “Girl Talk” at the start of my freshman year of high school. But, I didn’t know to ask. I didn’t know I was facing a challenge. I simply reacted to things as I faced them. And I made mistakes. Many of them.

Each of us has a set of experiences and circumstances — some within our control and some not — that shapes the way we look at choices, temptation, peer pressure, and everything that comes up along the way. If we can help prepare girls before they find themselves staring peer pressure in the face, they’ll feel more equipped to stand strong. To say NO to whatever life throws at them.

And bad decisions are one thing, but there’s also the stuff girls deal with that they have no control over: divorce, abuse, loss, grief, illness, financial strain, and more. Those life-altering circumstances make it even more difficult for girls to stand against the pressure when all they want is friendship, acceptance and love.

It takes pro-active, intentional effort to make the necessary preparations to help teens combat peer pressure.

That’s why my daughters and I started the Girl Talk Column on my blog. We wanted to give girls a place they could go with those tough questions about life. The column grew, and the questions built up to the point when we, along with Barbour Publishing, decided to put 180 questions from readers and our answers into a book. But it’s not just any book; the vibrant, trendy format has a scrapbook-y feel as each page is full color with graphics galore.

Nat, Em, and I hope you’ll pass this resource along to the teens in your life. Also, the Girl Talk column is ongoing. You can write to us with your questions anytime!

Remember, it’s all about choices!

And if you’d like to win a copy of Girl Talk, signed by all three of us, leave a comment here. Tweeting about this post will earn you another entry if you let us know you did. I’d also love it if you signed up for my Choices e-Zine/newsletter, too — that will earn you a third entry!

Nicole O’Dell, founder of Choose NOW Ministries and host of Teen Talk Radio, is a mom of six, ranging from 20 all the way down to a set of toddler triplets. She writes fiction for teens including the popular “Scenarios for Girls” interactive fiction series and the “Diamond Estates Series.” Emily is a straight-A fifth grader at Eastlawn School in Paxton, Ill.; Natalie is an honor student in the eighth grade at Paxton-Buckley-Loda Middle School.

From There to Here: Played Out

Amy L. Hatch — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 01:31:00 +0000

Play with me, Mom! Credit: Amy L. Hatch

By Amy L. Hatch

My kids had a random day off school this week and I had meetings stacked up all day.

I hadn’t realized that they’d be home (way to check the school calendar, dummy) and it was too late to get a sitter. Instead, my husband volunteered to hang out with them while I went about my business.

While I was gone the kids and their dad had a grand old time. There was wrestling and games and general horseplay.

The minute I walked in the door they were on me like white on rice. They clamored for me to do the science experiment I’d agreed to before I left the house. And, just as an aside, when you’re buying Christmas gifts for your kids? Skip the books filled with science experiments.

So I changed out of my skirt and tights and we made some ice cream with milk, ice and some plastic bags.

Then we ate the ice cream. Then we played Legos. Then we built a movie theater out of blocks for a stable of miniature plastic ponies. Then there was a fire in the movie theater so we had to build a hospital.

Then, one of the ponies was arrested for setting the fire and so, we had to build a pony jail.

Finally, I hauled myself off the living room floor to make dinner when my son, shirtless and in his pajama pants from the night before, grabbed my hand and begged, “But Mommy! Play with me!”

Without thinking I answered him.

“No!” I said.

For about a nanosecond I felt terrible. Then I looked at the clock and realized I’d been sitting on the floor with them for over two hours, and before that their dad played with them.

I didn’t want to play anymore. I’d reached the limits of my adult imagination. If I had to play for even 30 seconds more, I was the one who was going to be in pony jail for committing a pony massacre.

And I’m OK with that.

I know there are a lot of parents out there who love to play. Parents who possess endless patience and creativity and who dream up the kind of crafts that end up making me feel like The Worst Parent Ever when I see them on Pinterest (which is, by the way, a very special kind of hell for mothers who feel any kind of guilt about not being Suzy Homemaker).

And sometimes I do feel guilty. Sometimes I wish I was the kind of mom who truly enjoyed playing. It isn’t that I don’t want to spend time with my children, and I do play with them a lot.

However, I also want them to learn how to entertain themselves. It’s a good skill that comes in handy at airports and during corporate meetings.

This is a tale I hear frequently from my friends who have kids. It also seems to be something we don’t remember from our own childhoods. I can’t recall a single instance of my mom playing with me. I’m sure she did, but I’m also sure she didn’t spend as much time with Barbie and Matchbox cars as I do.

Next time I see her, I’m going to ask her how she got out if it because damn if I’m not all played out.

Amy L. Hatch is a co-founder and editor of chambanamoms.com and she can identify every My Little Pony by their cutie mark. She can be reached at amy@chambanamoms.com.

From There to Here: Rule Breakers

Amy L. Hatch — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 13:46:45 +0000

By Amy L. Hatch

Newsflash: Parenthood is hard.

Some days I feel like Cinderella, being ordered around by two small, bossy step-siblings who firmly believe my only job is to clean up after them and serve their every need.

Credit: masatoshi_, Flickr

Mom, Mom, MOM!

But I keep at it, because I just know someday a tiny mouse is going to come and — poof! — conjure me a luxury sedan in which I will be whisked to their college graduation ceremonies at Harvard.

Or something like that. What I’m trying to say is that this gig is a whole lot of drudgery with these insanely bright flashes of pure joy that make all the hard work completely worthwhile.

I know, too, that for my children there will come a time when hard work and drudgery will enter their own lives. To some extent, it already has. Hard math problems and spelling tests for the girl, and a long day learning to sit and follow directions for the boy.

They work hard at growing up, and it’s easy to forget that. Being a person is tough and they do their best.

That’s why I don’t feel bad when we break the rules — together.

This week when we finally got a visible snowfall that stuck to the streets and the grass, I woke up early with my son. He was so excited to see the white flakes outside his window while we had a snuggle.

His sister was equally thrilled. Coming from the snow belt (Google “blizzard of ’77″ sometime) I’m always bemused by the dustings we seem to get here, so it cracks me up to watch my kids behave as though we’re suddenly living on the tundra.

But it was cold and windy, and the snow was blowing past the windows nearly sideways. I checked the news, half-hoping that school would be called off so all of us could hang out at home.

Alas, school was open.

So instead of fruit, toast and cereal, we had hot chocolate, whipped cream and marshmallows for breakfast.

With a side of chocolate-chip cookies.

It was great. And I know the kids will remember it. Just like they will remember the times we ate dessert before dinner, skipped school for a mani-pedi or stayed in our pajamas until noon, casting spells and watching ‘Harry Potter’ on repeat.

Life is so filled with rules and regulations and structure, and of course that is how it should be. I crave order and predictability as much as the next mom. But then there are those days when it’s snowing and you have to go to school anyway.

Those days are tailor-made for breaking the rules.

What about you? How do you break the rules?

From There to Here: Interoffice Memo

Amy L. Hatch — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 01:08:17 +0000

Credit: Rennett Stowe, Flickr

To: Three-And-A-Half
From: Your Mother, CEO
RE: Performance Assessment

Dear Three-And-A-Half:

It has come to our attention that your department has been under-performing in a number of ways and we consider this state of affairs to be very serious, indeed.

Your newfound belief that you are autonomous is, for the most part, in error. While you are able to get around under your own power and even take care of your own bodily functions, you are still required to follow direction.

To assist you, we remind you that you must continue to follow company directives regarding:

Bedtime
 Bathing 
Eating
Use of the collective entertainment systems, including but not limited to Netflix
Crossing streets and parking lots
Consumption of treats
Getting in and out of the car
Dressing
Undressing
The wearing of undergarments and/or pants
 Staying within sight of a manager at all times when interacting with the public

While we can certainly understand your desire to operate independently, the fact of the matter is that you are, indeed, still in training. While we would prefer to foster a productive environment for you and your colleague, seven, we will not hesitate to publicly reprimand you.

We do appreciate your ability to navigate some tasks without constant supervision, especially your use of the potty and getting your own snacks and beverages. This comes in handy when the CEO is taking meetings with your father or managing the facilities.

We also enjoy your willingness to climb into the car by yourself, as well as your ability to unbuckle your seat belt. However, removing your safety restraints while your supervisor is otherwise occupied with driving is frowned upon.

We are also very happy with your smooth transition to your new sleep facilities. However, we would ask that you keep your visits to headquarters limited during the night shift. If you can accomplish this, we anticipate that we can offer you some interesting incentives.

We sometimes find ourselves wishing we’d stuck with three, but we took you on and we intend to complete your training and move on to four.

In the meantime, we would also like you to remember that backtalk, defiance and sarcasm are not appreciated and will not be tolerated. Consider yourself on probation from this point forward.

Sincerely,
Your Mother
CEO

No related posts.

Top Five: Reasons We Love ‘Falling Back’

Amy L. Hatch — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 22:05:58 +0000

Credit: alancleaver_2000, Flickr

For some folks, setting the clocks back — which is slated to happen this coming Sunday, Nov. 6 — marks the beginning of a long winter of dark afternoons and a lack of sunlight.

But there are some good reasons to love falling back, and here are our Top Five!

1. The 25-hour day. At last, someone has heard the Parent’s Prayer for 60 extra minutes. We suggest you use yours for something fun, like, say, sleeping. The laundry will wait. And, unlike its evil twin, springing forward, falling back won’t cause your children’s sleep cycle to become akin to something out of “The Exorcist.”

2. Cozy afternoons with tea. Sure, darkness falls a little bit earlier now, but use that to your advantage. Light a fire, make a cup of tea. Or treat yourself to a latte during the later afternoon at work. It’s the perfect excuse for small comforts.

3. Comfort food! Speaking of comfort, winter gives us permission to indulge in our favorite foods. Thanksgiving, the winter holidays and New Year’s Eve are all great reasons to eat appetizers, enormous amounts of turkey and all things made with butter. Ordinary weekdays don’t need to be all business, either: May we recommend some macaroni and cheese or banana bread?

4. Early bedtimes! It’s a lot easier to put your kid to bed at… say … 5 p.m. when it’s dark out. ‘Nuff said. This could also correlate nicely with early Happy Hours. Heh.

5. Staying home. A cool fall and what is sure to be a predictably Chambana-style winter (ice, wind, more ice, how about some more wind?) make it easy to stay at home — and appreciate it a little bit more.

Don’t forget to set your clocks!

Why do you love falling back? Did we mention that extra hour?

How I Became The Fun Dad

From The Editors — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 18:04:01 +0000

The author and his daughter at the Great America amusement park. Photo provided.

Editor’s Note: This is the first of a two-part series about maintaining a father-child bond after divorce.

By Sean McDevitt

I am a divorced dad of a 16-year-old daughter named Kaitlyn. She lives with her mother in Mattoon, while I live in Champaign. It is an arrangement we’ve had for the last 10 years, and Kaitlyn doesn’t remember a time when her mom and dad ever lived together. For her, having two parents and two different households has always been the norm.

I was lucky enough to be raised in a two-parent home, but far too many children today are denied that luxury. Additionally, plenty of children are being asked to juggle multiple family households and blended families. Not only can these new family dynamics be difficult for the children, it can be a challenge for the parents, as well.

My ex-wife and I endeavored never to make it difficult on Kaitlyn. Just because our marriage didn’t work didn’t mean we couldn’t work together as parents. For the most part, Kaitlyn has never been left wanting in the parenting department. I may not have been always present, but my presence was always felt.

So while she may have lived most of the time with her mother, over the years I made the special effort to bond and connect with my daughter on the weekends. Early on, we eschewed the normal every other weekend concept and I picked her up nearly every weekend for a Friday night to Saturday evening visit.

My daughter and I created things exclusively “Daddy – Daughter.” For example, we’d have epic battles of Chinese checkers or toy lightsaber duels around my apartment. We’d have Friday night pizza and build a massive marble track. I’d wake up on Saturday morning and find an enormous city constructed out of wooden blocks sitting upon my coffee table and we’d pretend to be monsters and knock it all down. These things became the foundation for weekend time with dad and were the rituals of our special time together.

Three things became the staples of our relationship — amusement parks, swimming and movies. Every summer, we’d take a long weekend and turn it into a road trip to a nearby amusement park. We had wonderful times, just the two of us, at Six Flags, Great America and King’s Island. It was our mini-vacation and we always made the most of it. Almost hand-in-hand with the amusement parks were water parks and swimming pools.

My daughter had a few swimming lessons over the years, but she’d tell you that I was the one who helped ease her fear of the water. It was my private joy to see her go from being scared of jumping into the deep end to jumping off a 20-foot platform to going down the water slide and using the diving board at the Urbana Aquatic Center.

We also share a love for movies. For a good long while, every weekend we’d either rent a DVD or go out to see a movie at the Beverly or Savoy 16. She saw “My Dog Skip” at Ebertfest and was allowed to pet the dog actor. She has a movie-ticket stub collection stretching back many years.

In these small ways, she and I were able to create — and maintain — our tight father-daughter bond.

Sean McDevitt is a copywriter for Horizon Hobby, and has 15 years of marketing and promotional experience. He is the divorced dad to one daughter, and no, you can’t date her. He lives in Champaign, Ill., where he writes on his own blog, blog.seanmcdevitt.com, roots for Illinois basketball and continues to look for his next big adventure.

How I Became The Fun Dad, Part 2

From There to Here: Mom’s Masquerade Ball

Amy L. Hatch — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 18:00:09 +0000

Got a ball cap? You're halfway to a Halloween costume! Credit: mecookie, Flickr

By Amy L. Hatch

Halloween is Monday (it’s kind of hard to tell, what with all the CHRISTMAS decorations up in stores now), and it got me thinking about all the different roles moms play and the kind of costumes we wear when we’re performing our motherly duties.

That, and the fact that my 3-year-old said he wanted to be me for Halloween. I mean, does that kid know what side his bread is buttered on, or what? And yes, I did let him have a brownie for breakfast that day. And how easy is that? I mean, if you don’t have your costume all planned out already (and no, I do not, surprise!) these can all be assembled from items in your closet!

So without further ado, I offer you these Mom’s Masquerade Ball ideas!

The Preschool Walk of Shame Mom
This one is so simple, it’s almost criminal. Sleep on your hair for eight hours. Find the rattiest, ugliest and most disgusting pair of pajama pants you have in your drawers. Top that with a huge T-shirt stolen from your husband’s stash of college Ts he won’t get rid of, preferably with stains. Smash a baseball cap on your head and wear flip-flops, no matter what the temperature. Grab your car keys and get ready to drop the kids off for trick-or-treats! Optional: Torn jeans and/or sweats in place of pajama pants, brushed teeth and underwear.

The Working Mom
Again, you can pull the necessary items for this get-up from your closet and your kitchen! Hunt around in your wardrobe for the one pair of dress pants that fit you, which are also the same pair you keep forgetting to dry clean. Do not attempt to press these pants. Toss on a sweater and put on some mascara but forget your lipstick. You will need to carry: One enormous laptop bag, one enormous pocketbook (dirty socks and cookie crumbs in the bag are a great way to make your costume more authentic) and at least one child’s backpack. You also need to balance your smart phone, a travel mug of cold coffee and the school snack for 30 in your arms at the same time as you attempt to walk out the door. Maintain this feat as you trick-or-treat, or the costume loses its authenticity. Optional: A headband stolen from your 6-year-old daughter’s room.

The Stay-At-Home Mom
This costume looks a lot like The Working Mom, but you can add a few extra touches. Trade your dress pants for jeans, cords or chinos, and make sure your sweater has at least one hole, preferably under the arm. Remember: You never have time to shop for yourself because you always have a kid with you! You can leave the laptop bag at home (yours is never charged because your kid keeps burning the battery playing games on pbskids.org), but please add a diaper bag. If you feel up to it, strap a baby carrier to your chest, and tuck your smart phone next to the baby’s neck — on vibrate, of course. You also need to carry a travel mug of cold coffee, but you absolutely must add a sign on your back that says, “Ask me to volunteer for something! Because you KNOW SAHMs just have OODLES of free time!” Optional: Wet or dirty hair.

The June Cleaver Mom
Put on your prettiest dress, Spanx and hose. Heels are a must. Shower, do your make-up and style your hair. Then, bake two dozen absolutely perfect cupcakes, decorate them using homemade marshmallows in the shape of wee ghosts and place them in your cupcake carrier. Hang that over your right arm. Over your left arm, drape the negligee you plan to slip into later after you tuck your children into bed and they fall asleep the second they hit their pillows, after bathing themselves and cleaning their rooms. Optional: Perfume. And remember to follow this one to the letter — because after all, Halloween is all about fantasy!

Amy L. Hatch is an editor and co-founder of chambanamoms.com, and the last time she dressed up for Halloween was 1983. She can be reached at amy@chambanamoms.com.

From There to Here: Cracked

Amy L. Hatch — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 01:05:41 +0000

Credit: Ellipsis-Imagery, Flickr

by Amy L. Hatch

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had to travel for business since my children were born.

Over the last seven years, I’ve averaged about one trip per year–and on one of those trips, I took my daughter with me. But in the next 10 days, I will take two round-trip flights to two separate cities. This weekend we go to Boston for my sister-in-law’s baby shower, and I turn around three days later and fly to New York City for business.

And, of course, our little man has suddenly developed a case of separation anxiety of epic proportions. It doesn’t help that his big sister gets to come along on my Beantown jaunt. For days I waffled about when to tell Henry about this double betrayal. Emmie solved the dilemma for me, by the simple fact that she is constitutionally unable to keep a secret.

The day before our departure drop-off at school was…difficult.

The boy who never looked back on his very first day of school ever cried so sadly when I left him at the elevator that one of the teachers was compelled to pick him up. As he wailed, I caught a glimpse of his face over her shoulder and, well. It hurt.

The entire week was fraught with similar scenes, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. I know that he and his dad are going to have a blast while Emmie and I are busy guessing the circumference of my sister-in-law’s belly. They will dine on French fries and I heard a rumor that there was a trip to Sweet Indulgence in the works.

The last time I left the boys home to their own devices, Henry learned how to play his toy piano with his feet.

They will be fine. Better than fine. They will have a chance to hang out, just the guys, that they rarely get. And my daughter and I will have the same. A day in Boston visiting my alma mater and her dad’s, too, and a little shopping on Newbury Street, followed by an afternoon filled with estrogen, tea and cookies.

But that face over that shoulder…it cracked my heart a little.

But isn’t that what motherhood is, really? A series of cracks in your heart? Eventually they fill in. And when you’re done, when your babies are gone, I imagine it bears no resemblance at all to the smooth, strong organ that beat cheerfully along before pieces of it were walking around your living room in a pair of Superman underpants or a pink sundress.

The night before I left, Henry gave me a run for my money. He couldn’t hold still. He ran away from me when it was time to get his medicine and wash his face. He repeatedly, emphatically threw his entire body against the frame of our guest-room bed, where we watch TV before tuck-in time, thud thud thud!

Finally, he was snug in bed. While we cuddled under his covers he looked at me and whispered, “I don’t want you to go to Boston.”

Craaaaacccck!

Remarkable Aunt-ics: Kids and Choices

From The Editors — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 11:49:00 +0000

By Jeni Weisiger

I spent the afternoon with my 3-year-old nephew this past Monday, talking about cars, watching “Spiderman” and carrying him around the house “like a sack of potatoes.”

At one point I saw the wiggle. You know, the squeeze the knees, dance around, can’t-put-the-video-game-controller-down type of wiggle. Not wanting to clean up pee, I quickly reminded him about the bathroom. I told him the movie would wait and that he could pee and come right back.

Success! He made it, no dribbles, no spills, no splatter! I was amazed! As he pulled up his “Iron Man” underwear, he declared “I didn’t touch my pee or the toilet.” I responded, “Great job buddy!” unaware that he was setting me up for his argument. I walked right into it, smart little booger!

Showdown at the bathroom sink. Credit: Flickr, Pink Sherbet Photography

As he walked away from the bathroom, I reminded, “Hey, buddy wash your hands please.” And here it came the start of our negotiation: “I didn’t touch my pee or the toilet.” (Expanded version: “But Aunt Jeni, I already told you I didn’t touch my pee or the toilet; therefore, I don’t need to wash my hands because they are not dirty.”)

He set me up! Now I hand some quick thinking to do, my first thought was to let it go, but that wouldn’t teach him anything, and it would just set up the precedent that Aunt Jeni doesn’t mean what she says. My next thought was to get firm with my voice. “Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum, go wash your hands”, eh, not me.

So I sat down, looked him in the eye and said; “We have two choices: You can go wash your hands, or I can help you wash them.” My goodness, that boy ran to the bathroom faster than I could get the sentence out.

Now, I must confess, I have a degree in child development. I have worked with many children and their families through childcare centers, baby-sitting and Early Intervention. I have used choices to navigate negotiations many times, but never in such a close relationship. I have seen choices work wonders with children whom I’ve seen in a professional realm, but never-ever have I been able to see “giving a choice” work in a personal relationship. I was always a teacher of “giving children a guided choice,” but now I am a believer!

I have used choices to guide meals, clean up, getting dressed, potty training and discipline. I have found that each child responds to choices differently, but I can always count on the independent-ness of 2 and 3 year olds to get the job done.

Do you use choices in your home? What works? What hasn’t? What’s the most ridiculous choice you have given?

Jeni Weisiger is a Developmental Specialist in the Early Intervention Program and teaches infant massage classes to parents and caregivers. She is new to the area and looking for ways to be involved with early childhood in Champaign County.

There Is Such A Thing As A Stupid Question

Amy L. Hatch — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 01:03:45 +0000

Credit: takomabibelot, Flickr

by Amy L. Hatch

The minute a women gets pregnant, she instantly becomes community property.

Complete strangers feel perfectly comfortable touching your belly. They offer completely unsolicited advice. They share their utterly horrifying, terrifying birth stories – “You wouldn’t believe the size of that tear!” or “And then, I almost died!”

And they ask an awful lot of stupid questions. That doesn’t stop after you give birth, either. I know this from first-hand experience, like the time my mother’s real estate agent asked me why I chose not to breastfeed.

Um, what? I’m sorry, did you just ask me an extremely personal, totally loaded question about the way I provide my newborn child with the sustenance she requires to live?

Of course you did!

I’ve even had people ask me how I “feel about not having a real birth experience” after my c-section. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure I did actually give birth.

We heard some doozies this week when we spent some time with Kevin and Sarah at Mix 94.5. Laura’s been asked if her children belong to her because her girls have light hair and hers is dark. She’s also been asked if she’s expecting twins, when she certainly was not.

Were they planned? Oh, she’s adopted? How much did that cost? Are you the nanny? How old were you when you got pregnant?

The list goes on and on. It makes us crazy, and it reflects a deep disrespect not only for our privacy and our feelings, but for women in general. Ever hear anyone ask a dad why he decided to go back to work after the baby came? Nope, didn’t think so.

The best response to an inappropriate comment or question is a snappy response. So we’re asking you to tell us the most annoying or rude question you’ve been asked as a mother — and give us your best come-backs.

Ready, set … GO!