Friday, November 7, 2014

The Mall at UTC Review -- A Mother's Perspective

I'm a self-diagnosed shopaholic, and have been thrilled at the prospect of this new mall since its inception. Given my enthusiasm, I dragged my whole family—meaning my two and four year old boys and my husband—to the Macy's preview and got some great deals on clothes for my boys. We fought the crowds, but eventually ended up forfeiting four of the eight coupons we'd purchased. No amount of savings is worth torturing my family for more than an hour.
The mall fully opened five days later. The day after the grand opening, I had the day off work, so I went on my own to scope out the storied grandeur and splendor of the mall at University Town Center. I searched for several minutes, hunting up and down along rows of cars, and finally found a parking spot. There was a surprising amount of shoppers there for an early Friday afternoon—but this is Sarasota, and demographics show that a significant portion of residents are retired. Fully prepared to spend a sizeable amount of money, I walked into the mall, again through Macy’s. The crowds were nearly as thick as they’d been on that preview day, but less feverish. I bypassed all of the sale signs, and headed directly to the exit into the mall.
The clean lines of the contemporary architecture and chic design overwhelmed me. An aesthetic wonderland of design – the interior design as elite as the shops that reside within the mall at UTC. I plodded from the north end of the mall to the south end admiring the contemporary design features –the sparkling, terrazzo-like white flooring, the floating stairways, glass elevators, and glass-walled railings along the second floor. Design success. However, though I’d anticipated spending whatever felt justified, and though I’d browsed stores like White House Black Market, Lily Pulitzer, and Saks, I did not find anything that warranted purchase. In fact, I felt like the rube that Hannibal Lector references in the Silence of the Lambs with my good bag and cheap shoes – I regularly carry my $1200 Gucci bag, but wear $20 shoes, and felt that the folks at Saks noticed and whispered to each other about that.
I walked the length of this crowded, but beautiful mall with no impulse to spend. At the south end, I decided to climb the stairs and walk back along the second floor. Maybe there was an irresistible retail experience up there. I found a floating staircase and began my ascent –my first trip up a floating staircase with glass paneled safety rails. These steps are NOT for folks with the slightest bit of acrophobia. If you’re ever so slightly afraid of heights, DO NOT climb steps like these – at UTC or anywhere. The feeling, at least as I experienced it, was as if I were constantly about to fall. The 15-second climb up those stairs seemed nearly interminable. The glass side rails insinuate an ability to topple to the hard floor below. The open risers contribute to a feeling that collapse is imminent. Again, I’m sure these feelings are isolated to those with a fear of heights, but that seems like a rather large group to isolate. Funny thing is that I’d been trying to talk my husband into remodeling our stairway into something along these lines. I no longer want to do that.
Coupling with the terrifying climb up the stairs, walking along the second floor with the clear glass railing serving as the only barrier to the open first story below, was equally frightening. I found myself hugging the left wall store facades as I walked along. Definitely not an acrophobic-friendly design, despite the tremendous chicness.
I walked the length of the mall on each level, then walked it again on the first level (safely on the ground). There are no toy stores. No children’s stores at all. Sure Macy’s, Saks, et al have children’s departments, but no child specific stores have residence. I’m generally able to resist full-price fashion for myself and my husband, but rarely can I resist toys, books, learning tools that my boys may like. This is a mistake that the planners at the mall at UTC made. With nothing for munchkins, they’re losing a key demographic. Yes, they have a Frozen-themed wonderland for the holiday season, but a parent bringing their child to the mall for that purpose will have no likely choice but to leave empty-handed after that experience – unless they enjoy torturing their child(ren) with shopping for themselves with children in tow. It’s my opinion that without a draw for parents of young kids, this mall is missing out on a large portion of potential sales.
I did spend a few dollars while I was there, but it was to treat myself to a mocha light frapuccino at the Starbucks within Macy’s—lovingly always labeled MiLF—an acronym I rather enjoy. And there are two forthcoming stores that will bring me back to the mall in the future: H&M, a store I’ve only shopped in NYC in the past, and the Tesla store. I’m confident in saying that had both of these stores been open on that day I ventured inside, I may have spent in the realm of $80,000 – including credit applied for my new car. Thank goodness neither store was operational yet!

Thursday, October 2, 2014

The Day Before

Draft started 05/02/2012 (still a work in progress)

Most decisions are difficult when you're a parent. Two days ago Austin and I made a decision that made something intangible tangible. A decision that two years ago I would not have made, and would probably have judged harshly anyone who did. We are inducing. We picked the day our second son would be born. It was a matter of convenience, but also a matter of keeping things as normal and scheduled for our older son as we could. Fortunately that day also coincided with my OB's schedule. Tomorrow, May 3, 2012, will be Beckham's birthday.

Having made something definite that has been indefinite since the dawn of time feels a little like playing God, and it's had an unforeseeable impact on me already. Today, the day before my second son is born, has been steeped in emotion. As we pulled into Grayson's school parking lot, I saw my first born in the rearview mirror. His innocent face taking in his surroundings, his green eyes watching the big kids play on the playground. He had no idea that today was his last day as an only child. His last day as Mama's one and only little angel. As I unbuckled him from his car seat, I felt the stuffiness in my nose and the warmth in my eyes before my vision was blurred with tears. He looked over at me and gave me his sweetly sly smile and for once didn't refuse my kiss. I grunted, as I can't help but do these days, when I lifted him from the seat, but then held him close while precariously maintaining my balance as I got out of the back seat of the car, hefting his 27lbs and my extra 55lbs. I tried to keep my cool as I waddled up to the building, my 26-month-old son clinging to me.

I held that boy tight to me as I signed him in and carried him to his classroom: the Big Bee room. The tiny toddlers were all out on the playground, as they usually were at that time. I wiped my puffy face with the back of my swollen hand then pushed open the door to the playground. I tried to let Grayson down, but I couldn't. I held him tighter. He rested his blond head on my shoulder and squeezed me back -- telling me in his toddler way that it was okay. It would all be okay. Fat tears couldn't be stopped and began soaking Grayson's little shoulder. I didn't want him to know mama was sad, but it couldn't be helped. His teachers began crowding around -- all of them understanding the hormonal fluctuations in pregnancy and their impact on emotions. None of them knowing that I was having Beckham the next morning and this was the last time I'd be dropping Grayson off as an only child. I was too ashamed to tell people about the induction. Was it vain and selfish to induce at 39 1/2 weeks? Part of me thought so.

After several minutes, I released my boy, my first born angel. I smiled through what I could feel was a red, tear-streaked face and pink, snotty nose and told him that I loved him. Knowing I had to leave before I upset him propelled me out of there -- albeit at the pace of a distracted toddler.

I saw my friend Meghann as I was filling in Grayson's daily report sheet, and I nearly collapsed into sobs. She was one of the very few people who knew we were inducing. She knew it was my last day. Grayson's last day. She hugged me. Miss Jackie, one of Grayson's teachers, also came in and hugged me. Was I insane? Being so upset over the prospect of dividing my time between two boys -- not to mention a husband, two houses, a full-time job -- seemed a little absurd in my logical brain. In my emotional brain, I felt like Grayson was being robbed of my attention and it would hurt his psyche, scar his precious little mind. And Beckham would never be blessed with the opportunity of having mama all to himself. It just didn't seem fair to anyone. How do people have more than one child? And knowing that second child would be there in 24 hours (give or take) was overwhelming.

The benefit of knowing when your child will be born is being able to prepare as much as possible in advance. I made sure Grayson had several outfits picked out, I made sure my hospital bag was packed with my own clothes and clothes for baby Beckham. Since this is my second time around, I know not to over-pack. The hospital will have almost everything Beckham and I need. I don't bring soothing lotions, playing cards, books, or anything like that. My time will consist of labor, delivery, nursing my brand new baby boy, and sleeping whenever possible. The only extraneous items I'll need are my phone and charger.

I also get the benefit of wrapping up all loose ends at work. I haven't told anyone that I'm inducing -- again for fear of being judged, mostly because I am judging myself harshly for making the choice to evict my baby a couple days early. It's been a long, painful, and difficult pregnancy. So I make sure my 7-page instruction manual filled with "what if" scenarios and necessary actions is complete and ready to send off to my counterpart, support staff, and supervisor. I make sure all outstanding jobs are in a reasonable state for someone to take over the next day.

I'm emotional and distracted all day, this day before my life changes exponentially. Again.

I spend the my last night as a mommy of one sharing my bed with Grayson. I wake up the day of nervous, excited, sad, and relieved. . . and still guilty. We struggle to get out the door on time -- such an issue with a toddler, and I know it'll be worse with two kids. I start worrying about how I'll ever get to work on time in the future.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Delusional Dysfuntional Days of Dunk

This is actual correspondence between a mother and adult daughter. Only the names have been changed to maintain relative anonymity.

December 1, 2012

Mom,

Thank you for the call. It's nice to know that you've been thinking about me. I've thought about you a lot over the last nine months, but I can't just pretend that everything is fine. As a mom, I put my kids first, and I'm grateful that G was too young to understand the disappointment of his grandmother who lives 15 minutes away choosing not to celebrate his second birthday with him. Not to mention the other grandson who has never met or heard of his Bubbie in his almost 7 months of life.

I understand that your feelings were hurt while everyone was getting ready for S's wedding, but I don't think that the reaction was appropriate. You told me the night before G's party that you probably weren't coming because of a deadline. You also told me that you couldn't come over that night because you had a date with M. I would have put my grandson's birthday before a date, but that's me. Then the next day when A asked me about G's party and I told her you didn't show up, she called you. You told her you were in the hospital and that's why you didn't go to the party. Again, I can't tell you how grateful I am that G wasn't old enough to be upset by you not showing up, but I had a quite a time explaining to people (like my in-laws who drove 3 hours to be there) why you weren't at the party.

From what I understand, the day you were at the hospital you were told you couldn't travel, so you canceled your tickets to Costa Rica. I also heard that S was blamed for whatever illness you had. I don't understand the reasoning behind placing blame on one's own children for illness, or anything negative for that matter. Life is hard enough without a parent, someone who is supposed to love and protect you unconditionally, trying to make you feel bad. So first you missed G 's birthday, then you missed S's wedding.

Since then, S had to have an emergency appendectomy and was in the hospital for two days and I had a baby -- your third grandchild. B had a rough delivery and had to stay in the hospital an extra day after I'd been discharged, but you weren't there for any of those events either. I'm glad that you wanted to call us all on Thanksgiving, but any of these other important events in our lives would have warranted a call as well.

I've come to terms with what to expect from you over the last 10 years, but I don't want my kids to have to understand "that's just Bubbie." I want to protect my kids from being hurt and disappointed, especially by their family. I do love you and I'm grateful for so many things you've given me over my life (my love of literature, my appreciation of the arts, support and comfort, etc), but until these larger issues can be resolved, I'm not going to just let you back into my life and pretend like nothing ever happened. My kids and their innocence and happiness is way too important to me.

Love,

V


Response:

December 3, 2012

V-- I love you and will always be there when needed.
I have changed and continuing to change for the better.
I suffer nightmares and shame everyday.
My children do not know me.
My grandchildren do not know me.
My children know a version of me
they were told when they were young.
That I was crazy, stupid, selfish, a cheat.
So many students love me
but my own children don't see that.
I feel like I cannot be myself when I am with my children.
I am told to "act."
I like myself.
I am honest, truthful, giving, and kind.
Why do my children not like me?
I never spanked you.
I took you to the doctor.
I healed you when you were ill, had a fever.
I became involved in the schools
to make sure you were safe.
However, I could not keep you safe.
That nearly killed me.
I recover from my shame.
Yet I still have nightmares
and my children do not know me.
But I will always love you.
And I will always be there when you call,
unless I am sick,
which, these days, I am.

 

Monday, March 19, 2012

Tropical Drinks vs Tropical Fruit Tums

Today is my little sister's wedding day. Nine + months ago, my husband and I bought tickets to fly to Costa Rica for the wedding. We were even feeling brave enough to bring our two-year-old son for a week's stay in the developing nation. A month or so after we booked our exotic vacation, we found out we were expecting another little one. I'm embarrassed to say that one of my first reactions was disappointment at the change in our vacation plans. It would no longer be a fun-filled, imbibing, bikini-clad adventure. It would be a giant pregnant woman with back pain and swollen feet feeling weighed down by the heat and trying to entertain a toddler in a new place while also trying to help my sister with her wedding. But -- we were still going to go. And I was still going to try to rock a bikini, but I really didn't want to be the fat one in my sister's wedding photos.

A couple of months ago, I thought I'd mention the trip to my OB to see what he thought. His reaction completely changed my mind. He told Austin and me that the chances of something happening with the pregnancy while we were there were slim, but if anything did happen, we'd be hours away from a hospital and the hospitals there aren't equipped to deal with emergency premature deliveries. Basically, the baby wouldn't make it. He also warned us about the possibilities of getting listeriosis in Central America. It can be on fruit, not to mention the usual culprits of dairy and meat. Best case scenario I would have a very bad GI reaction. Worst case could be heart defects in the baby or a still birth. And I didn't come this far to have something happen to my little guy now.

Needless to say, we cancelled our plane tickets -- we somehow had the forethought to buy trip insurance though we never had before in our lives -- so not much was lost. . . except being at my little sister's wedding. 

Anyway, as I was Skyping with my sisters who were having a blast and drinking in the middle of the day, I had a twinge of jealousy.Not just a twinge, an overwhelming feeling. I wanted to be there having fun, getting free drinks from the bartenders, staying out late and wearing nothing but a bikini all day. As they sipped their daiquiris, I was popping tropical fruit-flavored Tums for my nightmare heartburn that I now get after consuming anything at all. Didn't seem fair. I thought about it some more after their computer battery died and I was back to my regular life -- entertaining a 2-year-old and sharing tasks with my husband. I think I have the better end of the deal, or at least I wouldn't trade it. There will always be time for fun and goofing off. I have the literally awesome job of bringing a perfect little life into this world. I am growing a human, someone that everyone in my house will love unconditionally for the rest of our lives. A little guy who will bring us more joy (and pain) than any long weekend in Costa Rica ever could. Even with the back pain, heartburn, swollen feet, aching pelvis, etc., I wouldn't trade it for anything. Of course I'm still sad that I missed my sister's wedding, but there'll be more milestones to witness -- like when she has a baby. And I do plan to be around for those.

So congratulations to my little sister, Sara. I'm so happy for her. And congratulations to my older sister Angie who was able to make it over for the wedding and have some fun, though she had to leave her little guy behind for a few days. And congratulations to me for being able to see the big picture and cherish my second son, even for all the difficulties carrying him has brought. I love you, Baby Becks, and would do it all over again for you.