Author Archives: alexis

by Alexis Novak

I am always with my small children. Some call this fortunate. Some call it stifling. Depending on the moment, I’m straddling the fence. I do know that my Separation Anxiety when apart from my kids, accompanied by the guilt that rarely lets up, results in my frequent babysitter check-ins via text message that border on obsessive. I am over-protective but pragmatic. I understand that it’s healthy to be apart from them, to wonder who I am and what I want and marvel at the ease of sleeping in late even if only for two mornings. It was time. To celebrate my third year of motherhood I was ready for a first- Moms Gone (Slightly) Wild Weekend 2011.

The five of us met in a prenatal yoga class when we were all pregnant with our first children. Our Eastern-European instructor pushed us to do squats on the wall with the giant exercise balls supporting our lower backs as she purred “Gourrrrrrrgeeeoussssssss” to us, eliciting a snicker from the growing pregos who felt anything but. We bitched about husband smells, swelling feet, working while pregnant and the size of our asses. Then months later, when all of our beautiful babes were finally born, we took turns hosting weekly play dates. We ran together at Baby Boot Camp. We nursed together at the new mom’s support group at the hospital. Everyone told us we were lucky to have this little group. I didn’t think of it that way. It was just what we did. You could always find someone that wanted to hang and no one got mad when you cancelled last minute because your baby suddenly began projectile vomiting.

Then two moms moved away. Three moms had another child. No one got together anymore and I realized I missed our sisterhood. Motherhood can be isolating and lonely.

Someone started a Facebook message about getting away for a few days. No kids. No husbands. I was in…mostly. I bought the tickets and we reserved rooms. A few times I almost chickened out.  My hesitation was my toddler who tells me every time I get home after leaving her, “I was so sad when you left me. I cried at the door for a long time” and then imitates how she cried by moaning and making pained faces. She then begs me not to leave her again. My husband calls this manipulation. I know, I told him, but damn, she is good at what she does.

My weekend was a chick-fest blast. A week later it is a happy blur of massages, a sunset cruise, flip flop shopping, snarfing sushi, laughing so hard my abs hurt, and drinking wine in the pool. Together again. I didn’t feel guilty about having stupid buzzed fun with my girlfriends while my children were tucked snuggly in their beds and my very capable husband was at the helm. I shouldn’t feel guilty when I leave them in caring hands to go to the gym to be a more balanced caregiver. And since my kids survived their mom-free weekend, I definitely will not feel guilty now when my daughter imitates her crying face that looks exactly like Edvard Munch’s “The Scream”. I’m teaching her how to cope in my absence, a skill she will need. Separate but together, as moms and their children forever are.

My daughters will always be close to me but every once in a while, I need to hop on a plane with my friends to search for my girl self again.

Written by alexis • 4 Comments

By Alexis Novak

I can’t help it, I’m a name snob.  I’ve always loved my name, Alexis Alden, which was unique and underused until recently.  (This year Alexis rose to #16 on the most popular name list).  So when we named our daughters we wanted them to have names that wouldn’t be extremely popular and would have a vintage, ultra-feminine vibe yet still emote strength and moxy.  As my mom says, “Could _______ (insert name here) be president of the board?”

I have a Julia (#50) and a Scarlett (#114) who were almost Avery (#23) and Lucy (#75)- names that still rank on my future baby’s name list.

Ask any teacher, the name choice for your beloved offspring speaks much about your style and aspirations of your child’s future.  I find myself trolling nameberry.com and babynamewizard.com whether pregnant or not and studying the new baby announcements at my pediatrician’s office.  I have also gone so far as to ask my pediatrician’s office how many Ava’s (#5) they have as patients.  Is that wrong?

Here are my personal naming rules.

1.  No sibilings with the same first letter.  I have an affinity for J and S names but think it’s totally 80’s when people have 4 kids named Mary, Meredith, Milly and Marge.  Once again, don’t be like the Duggars with their army of J-named brats.

2.  No made-up names.  I am consistently shocked by the popularity of fake names like Jayden (#8), Makayla (#44) and Neveah (#34). Maybe they go back to biblical times but they don’t seem like real names to me and my Microsoft Word agrees.  They feel like strange combo names that no one will ever be able to spell. This kind of naming “creativity” will be a curse to your child when they go to school. Which brings me to…

3.  No phonetically incorrect names.  Ever.  Spending years in the classroom, I can call myself an authority on the ways parents torture their kids with names that don’t sound the way they look.  A classic name, albeit a bit boring, wins over phonetically unsound any day.  Isn’t Katherine better than LaKatherynne that is pronounced LayKatherine?  Just sayin’.

4.  No names that lend themselves to weird nicknames. I love the name Isadora but dread Dora the Explorer as a nickname.  I also like Adelaide but worry about the laid component.  Same with Layla (#45).  High school is brutal.  I’m an authority on that too.

5.  No unisex names for boys. I went to high school with a male Kelly who was pretty hot and well-liked but I would never name a boy a mostly feminine unisex name.  A male Ashley or Shannon better be the hippest Irish kid in school to pull it off.  Unisex names are much easier on girls.  Even mostly male names like Charlie, Ryan and Cameron sound cooler these days on little girls which is a trend I’m hearing a lot of lately.

6.  Pass on explosive pop culture names (especially at the beginning of the trend when the names appeal to the masses).  If you don’t mind your child being one of five Isabella’s in her class, far be it from me to judge.   I like the five most popular and ladylike girl names, Sophia, Isabella, Olivia, Emma, Chloe, but don’t want my kids to have to go by a nickname because there are multiples.  If you pick a name made recently huge by “Glee”, “Twilight” or “Pretty Little Liars” then forget it.  If you pick a name that is already monogrammed on a crib quilt in the Pottery Barn catalogue then you have reached the ultimate in yupster popularity and that name has already peaked.  It happens to the best of us.  Then you simply have to…

7.  Wait for the popular to become unpopular again.  Naming trends are always cycling.  I like many popular names but I would wait five years to name a child a formerly very popular name like Ella (#13) and by then my eggs will have expired.  You could also just name your baby the name you like and not give a crap about popularity.  What if your fave popular name isn’t big in your area anyway? Check the babynamewizard maps which tracks where in the country parents are naming their baby boys Aiden.

8.  Give a nod to your ancestors.  Half the reason I’ve done genealogical research is to discover interesting family names like Olive (#546) and Mathilda (#800).  I took a something borrowed, something new approach to naming by giving the kids familial middle names from their grandmothers and then original first names.  We all deserve our own identity (I am not a fan of juniors for this reason) but history is important too.

9.  Keep the name a secret until the baby arrives.  How rude is it when you love a name while pregnant and then everyone weighs in that they hate it?  Once the birth announcement is out and they see that precious bean no one will be rude enough to say they hate the name.  Ok, well some will…

10. The name I am in love with is a name my friend hates.  I had a friend tell me that she was surprised I picked Julia since it was so plain and she expected “more” from me. And my sweet Julia was over a year at that point.  Then another pregnant friend said within my ear shot that she hated the name I chose. Um, thanks. Maybe I shouldn’t talk names anymore with my equally-opinionated still-breeding friends.  I won’t make fun of your little Neveah if you will leave my Julia alone. Truce?

What are your naming rules? How did you decide on the names of your children?

Check out the Top 100 names here!

Written by alexis • 8 Comments

by Alexis Novak

My lifeline to relative sanity and contentment- our very first real babysitter- is soon leaving the country for good.  Besides that I think she is unforgiveably selfish for leaving me in my time of need, she is young and her life is deliciously spread out before her with bad choices to make and fun regrets to be had; a stage that must be embraced fully.  This is what I tell her because I am happy for her.  But I am tweaking out for myself as I am in the mom stage of intense and sometimes crushing responsibility. I need help. Hands.  I cannot revert back to the stressed, overwhelmed mom I was pre-sitter who never hit the gym or found time to pluck her eyebrows.

So I placed a heart-warming ad on a site that is supposed to take care of this sort of thing for 30 bucks.  They even rate sitters on a percentage matching scale based on key words.

I couldn’t help feeling like finding a good babysitter for us was exactly like dating. Painful.  Slow. Confusing. Never really knowing what the hell the other person is thinking. The awful waiting to hear back after you put yourself out there. The hoping against hope that someone will want you as much as you want them.  Turns out, dating’s even worse than I remember.

The ones we really liked and messaged didn’t message me back.  The ones I would never like messaged me even though they had zero traits my ad stated we are looking for.  One Granny-Nanny emailed with me for a week and just when I was beginning to fall for her with her Southern sweetness and ultra-respectful emails, she dumped me. “Geographically undesirable in a time of rising gas prices,” she wrote in a good-bye email. Ouch. Wasn’t I good enough to make the 20-minute drive for?

Then there was the sorority girl who launched into her demands and her packed schedule before our first date. Her emails read like texts to a sorority sister.  On meeting: “Day and time????” Her terse tone sounded like she was doing us a favor-no doubt her own dating attitude.

Some posted professional-modeling-looking pictures that translated as either scary or pretty, we couldn’t decide.  We just knew one in particular made us uneasy. Those photos with piercing eyes said something like “remember Rebecca De Mornay in ‘The Hand that Rocks the Cradle’”?  more than,  “I can’t wait to change your baby’s poopie diaper”, which was the look I was seeking.

Initially, my dream sitter had preschool experience, a college degree, creativity, a flexible morning schedule, a kind face, years of babysitting. Now I’ve whittled my expectations down to someone who is kind and able to keep my precious bambinas safe and semi-entertained for the hour and a half that I check in with myself. Or groom.

Just like dating, you find your match when you least expect to. For me this was on Facebook where a former student who was a favorite of mine joked about “sitting on babies” as her job. I messaged her that second.  She was available ASAP.  Could do flexible hours. Couldn’t wait to meet my kids (and hopefully wipe their butts).  This was it. After all the frogs and missed connections, I found my Happily Ever After Sitter, whom I already know and love.

She starts working for me next week and no, I can’t give you her name or number.

Written by alexis • Leave a comment

by Alexis Novak

When I imagine myself in my mind I envision my pre-kiddos’ size 6 bod, all Victoria’s Secret Catalogue chiquita lounging around in leggings and matching beige cardigan with long highlighted hair, emoting serious sexy.  That was five-ish years ago.  If I am honest, it has been a long time since I fit into my skinny bootcut jeans.  (Actually, it’s been so long that I missed the whole stovepipe, super-skinny jean trend altogether).  Today, full-length mirrors and pictures tell a scarier story and always cause me to do a double-take.  Is that really me? I used to love to be photographed and now I am one of those insecure moms that jumps out of the frame when people are shooting.  One of those moms who have mysteriously disappeared from the Christmas card picture.  And I hate that.

When I was pregnant back to back, I called myself a Beautiful Pregnosaurus- part in awe of being able to grow a human and yet simultaneously horrified watching my body balloon to the size of a Homecoming float.  I was good at being pregnant.  My students told me I was a happier person pregnant and riding that hormonally-induced excitement, I celebrated by eating everything carboliscious in sight. This was the only time in my life when I could get away with insane calorie consumption and I rocked it out.  But I’ve learned it’s both a blessing and a curse to give yourself permission to eat Haagen-Dazs every night sprinkled with Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal, pretending that the day of reckoning will never come.

I was semi-concerned about the weight gain but every appointment I asked my doctors and they were not. I barely passed the glucose test but I was in decent health, even as a super-sized prego in my second pregnancy.  I think I checked out of my body for a while as people that live mostly in their heads do. (What a glorious vacation it was!) When I finally came to though, I had a rude awakening.  Nothing about my body looked familiar. And these new parts looked sad.

If I am painfully honest, my life history of yo-yo-ing has wasted more brain cells and years than I care to fully admit to.  But none of that calorie-counting and scale obsessing mattered until I became the Eating Coach and Body Confidence Director of two small girls.  I hate to imagine them loathing certain body parts or weighing their self-esteem before they head out for school every morning.  So I have started making major changes for all of us.

Though no one else can see it yet, I know I am still super hot under here, which is the most important part.  Everyone else will have to wait for my Christmas card next year.

Written by alexis • 4 Comments