Have you ever found yourself sitting on a child step stool with bloodshot eyes, a baby in the nearby bathtub and a toddler trashing the rest of your house?  That’s my scene right now with a laptop on my knees, of course.  It’s 20 minutes later and Thomas is out of the tub unaware of the shots he’ll be facing at his 15-month check-up this morning.  Nice when he’s still too young to understand.  Charlotte dressed herself and picked out a shirt her daddy bought that reads Pretty Like My Mommy on the front.  Great, now more people will think Mommy’s on an ego trip.  The reality, I’ll be wearing no make-up, sweats and a ball cap when I’m seen with her in it.  Earlier I was chasing Charlotte who was chasing Thomas with an edible cereal straw in hand.  He snatched it from her treat bowl.  If Daddy could see us now.  Crumbs flying and tempers flaring on the second floor.  This would never happen on his watch.  Food is to be eaten at the table and sippy cups stay upright off the floor.  I mopped up some apple juice in the living room already today.  Mommy is laid back to keep her sanity, let’s face it.  Mommy can’t wait for a free moment to watch even two minutes of the season premiere of Real Housewives of OC.  Mommy is glad it’s Friday and Daddy will be here with her all weekend to juggle twenty parenting balls and try not to drop them.

Posted under Uncategorized

Brooke's husband, Eric, and an Iraqi boy

I have been pleasantly surprised to discover, through blog comments and emails, how many readers are serving our country as either spouses or enlisted service members.  Since 9/11, I stopped taking these people for granted and started being grateful they continue to secure my freedom.  I asked one of them to write some thoughts for me and felt it best to share it in her own words:

While most Marines join right out of high school, my husband decided to join at the age of 28.  Joining the Marines is something he has always wanted to do, something that has always been in the back of his mind, but the timing just never seemed to fit, until then.  He has always wanted to serve his country, to ensure America always will be the “land of the free,” so he joined the United States Marine Corp.  The Marine Corp. allows for my husband as well as our family to see the world…literally.  We are currently stationed at Camp Lejeune, NC where my husband is assigned to an artillery unit.  His job requires him to be gone from home anywhere from a week or a month at a time for training as well as deployments.  He loves the Marine Corp and is very proud and honored to be a Marine. 
Now, from a Marine wife’s point of view, I will be honest and say the hardest part would have to be when he’s gone.  Even just the week field opts are long enough, let alone the 7 month deployment. But at the end of the day I think about what my husband is and what he does for a living and it makes all of the sadness go away. Well, most of it anyways.  Yes, there are lots of tears and more emotions than I have ever imagined to go through.  We have a 6 yr old daughter and a 4 yr old son who have to live with their daddy being gone too.  I remember when Eric first left on his deployment and thinking to myself, “this is only day 1, how am I going to make it 7 months?”  And then the day before he was going to come home, I couldn’t believe how fast the days went by.  There is hardly anything in the world that comes close to the amazing feeling of waking up at 2 A.M. to go pick up your husband from a 7 month long deployment with a 4 and 6 yr old in tow.  There are no words.  I am honored and privileged to call myself a Marine wife.  I would not have it any other way.

Brooke (Biermann) DeGroote, wife of LCPL Eric DeGroote and mother of two from Shell Rock, Iowa

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 16

Pretty much daily, my husband faces adversity at work.  By work, I mean at the high school where Dave teaches AND in our home where he parents.  He’s like a single dad most weekdays.  Mommy’s with Charlotte and Thomas in the morning.  Daddy gets the afternoon and evening shifts until I come home for a couple hours before the 10pm news.  I read somewhere the time of day he’s alone with our two is called The Witching Hour.  You know, when your cherubic children take off their angel wings and stomp on them.  Take what happened to him last night.  At some point, a diaper was tossed in our open washing machine.  It’s a top-load only Charlotte could reach, other than us.  And we don’t remember doing it, so she must be behind it.  The plus, it didn’t contain more than pee.  The negative, in his rush to complete household chores while simultaneously entertaining a 1 and 3-year-old, Daddy ran the load of clothes with said diaper.  The call to me at work explaining this was not a happy one.  I think he said something about it being the worst thing he’s ever seen and the clothes being ruined.  Sadly, his favorite jeans were involved.  I knew exactly what he was talking about when he described the sticky pieces of diaper all over the washer contents.  Remember when your child peed out of his diaper and you didn’t change him right away?  Well, at least I do.  Now imagine that slimy, decomposed diaper dotting your bra and nylons.  Yes, mine were in there.  Dave suspects it will take 5 more wash cycles to actually clean the load.  As we were having this conversation, he discovered some 10 acorns in Charlotte’s jeans pocket.  A souvenir from the playground bound to wind up in Daddy’s boxer-briefs.  Okay, that sounds bad.

Shawn from Prairie City

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 16

I freely admit a lot of women I know, including me at times, like to control.  We often convince ourselves that we’re not bossing our kids and husbands around because we have manipulated them into complying with what we want.  So of course we’re not telling them what to do outright, just assuming they’ll be on board with our decision in the first place.  It’s a sick cycle and one I see Charlotte falling into already.  She wants to control EVERYTHING… which socks she wears, sippy cup she drinks, where we sit at a restaurant table, how low the window should be rolled, when Mommy and Daddy should sing along or when we shouldn’t talk!  Dave continually tells her she is not going to control him.  I usually go along with many of her demands or ignore them depending on their severity.  Of course I have to question if she’s just being a typical 3-year-old or if she’s genetically predisposed due to Mommy’s tendencies.  One benefit to all of this-I am making a conscious effort not to ramrod Dave.  He doesn’t need two females telling him what to do at every turn.  For example, this past weekend as we were getting the children ready for church Daddy rearranged Thomas’ room.  When I walked in and discovered his effort, he started apologizing that now it was too cluttered and he shouldn’t have moved anything.  I stopped him and instead praised him for how much better the room looked.  Now when we walk up the stairs, instead of looking at a cluttered changing table we see the crib skirt with animals.  A nice change that Daddy made without his wife’s input!

Jenna & Mariah from Little Turkey

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 16

I agree parents today go overboard to shield their children from rejection.  You know what I mean.  Everyone gets a trophy or certificate, no matter their performance.  Gym class no longer includes picking teams.  And, to some extent, I’m on board with all of it.  Life is full of letdowns, anyway.  Why add to it by insisting children learn what it feels like to be left out or in last place?  The above photo depicts grandparents letting their grandchild win in Candyland yesterday.  Charlotte pretended like she was innocently picking a card when she selected the one with the sucker, allowing her to jump so far up the path of colored squares only a few more turns sealed her win.  We all let it happen, especially since Nana made the mistake of beating Charlotte earlier this year.  She didn’t take the loss well.  I know, I know.  It’s part of life and she’ll need to learn how to handle it… eventually.  But I would argue parents should go out of their way to protect fragile egos, whenever possible.  Afterall, I faced plenty of challenges my parents could not have prevented:  getting dumped after a 3-day relationship in 6th grade, not being selected for the cheerleading squad freshman year, receiving nearly one-hundred rejection letters in the mail from TV stations across the country upon college graduation.  It’s inevitable disappointment will happen.  In the meantime, the 3-year-old can claim a victory.

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 16

I realized, yesterday actually, that in the past few years confidence I thought came from more life experience and maturity really stems from being a parent.  Think about it.  Before kids were you more self-conscious and intimidated in certain situations?  Now, if you’re like me, you don’t care as much what other people think.  You don’t have the time or energy.  I used to stress over things that don’t phase me these days.  At this point I’m just thrilled to make it out of the house without slobber stains on my shoulder or a smashed fruit snack stuck to my backside.  It occurred to me last night moderating a live mayoral debate with Ron that doing live television doesn’t make me that nervous anymore.  Of course it’s an adrenaline rush, but no where near as nerve-wracking as finding your baby at the top of the stairs turning around to smile at you… or watching your toddler run on the wet cement at the waterpark only to slip and hit her head… or getting a call from your husband with two crying kids in the background and there’s nothing you can do about it.  This heightened level of self-confidence is like a gift to new moms and dads to counter some of the self-sacrifice and worrying ways that are also a part of the package.  I can handle anything now that I’ve been through two pregnancies and two C-sections AND two other people are dependent on me for life!

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 15

I have a unique opportunity as a mother of two young children and step-mom to two college students.  Not only am I navigating the toddler trenches, I’m fortunate to play a supporting role in the lives of Dave’s daughters transitioning to adulthood.  I am dead-tired today because last night I was on the phone with my oldest step-daughter, Taylor, for nearly two hours AFTER the 10pm news.  She is a senior in college with a 3.8 GPA.  It has been an honor for me to help with her class papers and take-home exams on her path to academic success.  That’s one skill I excel in and enjoy, editing.  So it’s great to be able to assist her and, in the process, talk with her on a regular basis.  Our conversation last night covered a lot of very personal ground.  We talked about her life as a child of divorced parents, how much satisfaction she derives from excelling in her courses and her passion for social services as she preps to enter the real world.  I am so proud of her and her sister, Lauren.  They didn’t let their parents’ divorce or subsequent break-up of their mom’s second marriage define them.  Both have seemingly avoided the path of drugs and diversions in favor of staying in school and pursuing college degrees.  I told Taylor last night dating her dad all those years gave me the rare chance to see my now husband in action as a father.  That is one plus of being with a man who has children.  I knew he would be great with mine based on his performance with his own.  One scary thought… Taylor turns 22 next week.  Which means should she choose to marry and have children in the next few years, she would make me a grandma when I’ve barely reached 40.  Yikes!

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 15

Talking with a doctor I interviewed for a health story yesterday, we got on the subject of investigative news stories and ones that would be good to cover in this market.  He said to me, “Don’t you want to win a Pulitzer?”  Without hesitation I said, “No.”  Once I had children, striving to win a prestigious journalism award is really not in my realm of thinking.  Career goals have shifted to the lower end of my priority list, behind items like raising healthy and happy kids or being a good wife and mother.  Sure if a call came asking me to anchor in a bigger market for a lot more money, I would be flattered and smart enough to seriously consider it.  But I wouldn’t be dumb enough to take a job that exclusively benefits moi at the expense of my husband and children.  We’re a team now and I have to think in terms of what’s best for ALL of us.  That changes things up a lot when it comes to your personal drive and mission in life.  My goal is to put my family first.  That, frankly, can’t always happen when there are bills to be paid and schedules to adjust.  Yet for the most part when you know that’s the focal point of your day-to-day existence, it really helps keep you in check.  It’s not worth it if pursuing something and/or achieving it only serves to improve my situation.  I’ve heard people say if momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.  Well this momma isn’t happy if my husband and children are sad.  It’s not about me and shouldn’t be.

Owen, Josie, Jacob and Katie from Grundy Center

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 15

We’ve all heard about parents turning around on a long car trip when they realize a favorite blanket or binky has been left at home.  Fortunately my kids have never used a pacifier and don’t have a favorite toy or blanket… but they sure make a lot of demands and, right or wrong, Mommy often tries to meet them.  Take the treat bowl, for example.  I started using a little bowl of goodies as an incentive to get Charlotte to cooperate when I’m rushing to get her dressed and out the door for school.  Now she starts asking for her treat bowl, along with requesting specific items, long before it’s time to get in the car.  Once I do get both children strapped in their carseats, I probably make 5-10 trips back and forth from the garage to the upstairs and downstairs inside before we can leave.  The most intense part of the process, concocting the treat bowl.  Along with two gummy children’s vitamins, depending on what’s in the cabinet, I’ll mix in a few Teddy Grahams, fruit snacks or Whales (like Goldfish).  If some candy is available, it better make the bowl.  Once I hand it over, Charlotte inspects the contents like an airport luggage screener!  Thomas is starting to take note of the fact he’s stuck with a milk bottle and she gets all the good stuff.  So I try to give him one or two pieces of something, much to her dismay.  And the car DVD player is still getting a lot of use… but now Charlotte insists Thomas watch The Wiggles while we play her Disney Playhouse CD in the car player.  He may be only 15 months, but he knows when the songs don’t match the video.  He squawks!  I don’t comply with every single request, but if it’s workable and doesn’t involve too much extra effort I’ll usually cave and make it happen.  The recent Halloween party we attended suggested on the invite that parents wear costumes.  Yet Charlotte did not want me to dress up.  So, I didn’t.  I explained this to one mom, adding, “Yes, a 3-year-old runs my life.”  She didn’t disagree.

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 15

I foolishly thought on Friday, this will be the first weekend we’ve all been healthy in a while.  Big mistake.  Yesterday, Dave had to leave church at the start of the sermon to head to Urgent Care.  He had been having trouble breathing all morning and, coupled with his cough that won’t quit and his asthma, needed to be seen.  He returned to pick us up with two prescriptions.  One for the bronchitis he was treated for more than a week ago that won’t go away and Prednisone to open up his airway.  The poor guy has been on so many prescription drugs in the past two months, I’ve lost track.  His pill pile on the counter ebbs and flows.  He says his continuous cough doesn’t hurt and since he’s not running a fever, the doctor says he’s not contagious.  No chance I would have gotten it, anyway, last night.  We were separated in bed by 2 flower pillows, a Tinkerbell pillow, Bob the Builder pillow, heart pillow AND our 3-year-old.  Don’t even ask.

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 15