Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Do The Right Thing

This is it. I'm officially hitting the stage of parenthood where I have to stand back and watch how good or bad of a job I've done laying a foundation for my children.

Some days I smile with pride. Other days, I flinch.

Without going into too many details... last night Charlie Brown came to me after bedtime to tell (tattle?) about something his brother Linus did. This "thing" was very dishonest, and Linus actually bribed Charlie Brown to keep quiet about it. But I guess Charlie Brown's conscience got the best of him, because he had to tell me about it. He didn't want Linus to be mad at him, but he also knew that what Linus had done was wrong and he had to tell me the truth.

At first, I'm steaming mad. I am all ready to stomp into Linus' room and tell him that he's grounded, or punished some other way. But, no, I decide to step back and cool off. After a few minutes of thinking, I realize that I need to find a way for Linus to correct his behavior. At the same time, I want to minimize my involvement so as not to damage the relationship between the two brothers. I think this is an important time for them (they are 8 and almost 7 years old) to start building the bond that brothers must have. Not that I want my husband and I to be the "them" in an "us against them" scenario, but my boys need to know how to stick together and watch each others' backs and keep each other out of trouble.

So, I decide to go back to Charlie Brown. I tell him that first thing in the morning, he is to give the bribe back to Linus. I tell him to tell Linus that he needs to "do the right thing" and correct his behavior. I tell Charlie Brown that Linus doesn't need to know that I'm involved; just let Linus know that you think he should do the right thing, because it's what God would want him to do and it's what Mom and Dad would want him to do. Then, we'll just wait to see if he does the right thing or not.

I told Charlie Brown, if he doesn't do the right thing, I'll step in and take care of the problem. But I want to give Linus the chance to make the right choice.

This is one of those situations where I cry a little bit inside. Why would one child make such a wrong choice when I have taught them all the same way, explaining about good choices and bad choices? They all have been given the same moral and ethical foundation from us. Why do some children just choose to ignore it and some choose to obey it? I know it has a lot to do with personality, but am I missing something that I should have done differently? Was there some formula that I screwed up when teaching my kids right from wrong?

So, today is the day. Today is when I see if my Linus chooses the right moral path or if I'll have to explain it to him again. That is a lesson I don't want to teach. This is the really un-fun part of being a parent.

And yet, at the same time, "yea" for Charlie Brown doing the right thing. It's not all turning out bad.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Mama Needs some New Nipples

Heh. I bet that title is gonna return some interesting hits.

So, I'm on baby number 5. By the time you get to anything for the 5th time, you're pretty much a self-proclaimed expert. Now, I'd never call myself an expert at parenting. Experienced? Certainly. But not an expert.

However...

A lot of my baby stuff is completely worn out. Or gone. Or out-of-date. My first baby was born 10 years ago. All the sleepers have been through 4 kids' poop and spit-up. The knees of outfits have seen 4 kids learn to crawl. The baby bottles have nourished 4 babies' bellies.

So now, I am needing a few things. But who has a baby shower for someone expecting their 5th child? I mean, that's just absurd, right? And, while I certainly don't need a Diaper Genie or silver picture frame or another hand-made baby blanket, I could sure use some new pacifiers or baby socks or Playtex Drop-Ins Liners.

I was thinking about registering for a dozen or so items at Target, just in case anyone asks me if I need anything for the baby. Do you think this is really presumptuous? Or rude? Or selfish? I mean, the things I need aren't expensive and certainly I can just buy them myself. But I thought if anyone wanted to know if I needed anything, then they'd be able to just pick something out from a registry.

What do you think?

Friday, September 25, 2009

Flashback Friday: A Poem About My Boobs

1581884212_57276dd550_o


Time for Flashback Friday everybody! Pick out your favorite old post and recycle it here! Look! I'm being a friend to the blogging environment!!!

Hooray! Hooray! Today is the Day!
Today my nursing bras are all put away!

No more flaps! No more nursing shirts!
No more drips onto my pants and my skirts!

My boobs are no longer for the wee little one.
Now I can use them for all kinds of fun.

I can finally wear a REAL bra - one with lace
My husband's approval is written all over his face.

Now, my melons are larger, I cannot tell lies
But more fills a bra than simply the size

Where once was a pair of nice perky cantalaupe
Has been replaced by ziploc pouches of liquid soap

If you've nursed a babe then my words will ring true
And for any who hasn't, well, my areolas envy you

My girls are old war vets, they've seen the front lines
They've been bit, pulled, and chewed so many many times.

So I'm glad to be able to wear the dress I like so much
that zips in the back and hides my stretch marks and such

I guess they will fall and point south pretty soon
so I'll get 18-hour support for morning, night, and noon

And if I hit the lottery and meet Dr. 90210
my boob-fat and tummy will all have to go

But until then I'm stuck with the body God gave me
And the help of 4 pregancies - nothing could save me!

Thank God for the love of a husband so kind
Thank God, it's true that love must be blind!

Originally posted July 5, 2008

If you're going to play with us for Flashback Friday, click on Mr. Linky below and include your post URL. And don't forget to visit other FF players!

Thursday, September 24, 2009

This Doesn't Add Up


Okay, I am going to warn you right now... this post involves math. Not differential equations or quantum physics or anything like that. Just some simple math. Oh, and common sense, which some of my kids' teacher seem to be lacking...

Let me start off by saying I am an educator. No, I'm not employed right now but I have taught in the classroom and I have tutored privately and professionally (Sylvan). I have taken classes on Philosophy of Education and Educational Methods and History of Education, etc. So, I think I have a good grasp of what the purpose of education is.

Education is about growing a student. Personal growth, academic growth, emotional growth, GROWTH! And that growth must be measured in order to determine if progress has been made.

Are ya still with me?

Okay, now I'm going to use an example to illustrate my next point. Let's say you want to learn tennis. You've never held a racquet before but you know what one is. You don't know the rules of tennis, where to stand, how to serve, etc. So, at your first lesson, the tennis pro gives you instructions about serving and volleying. He shows you how to serve and volley as you stand there and watch. Maybe you take notes. Then, as he places the fuzzy yellow ball in the palm of your hand, he tells you that you must serve and volley perfectly. On your first try. Because, c'mon. He's told you how. And he's shown you that he can do it. So, really, you should be able to do it too, right?

This is the case with homework. IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE PRACTICE. It bugs me to death when teachers (like the ones at my kids school) take grades on every homework assignment, then allow so many points to accumulate that homework ends up being worth more than the test grades.

Okay, did I go too fast there? See, here's the deal: every assignment my kids do at school is worth 100 points. Tests are worth 200 points (actually they are worth 100 but then the grade is entered twice). So, for example, in a 6-week period, if my kid has 4 tests and 5 homework assignments and 10 classwork assignments, then test points would be 800 (4 tests x 100 x 2) and classwork/homework would be 1500 points (5 x 100 plus 10 x 100).

Here's the math:
Tests = 800
classwork/homework = 1500

So, basically, the numbers above represent that PRACTICE WORK (where kids shouldn't be expected to perform perfectly - after all its usually directly after they have been taught a new skill) is counted TWICE AS MUCH as tests (which is supposed to be the time where a kid is assessed for mastery of a skill that has been practiced.)

Now, when I was a teacher, I taught high school math. Here's how I did my grades, per chapter. Usually one quarter involved 2 or 3 chapters of material:
Homework = 30 pts
1 quiz = 35 pts
1 test = 100 pts

So, the homework and quiz TOGETHER were not worth as many points as the test. This is because, you see, the purpose of assessment is to determine whether the student has made progress. It is the student's opportunity to demonstrate that they have mastered a skill over a period of time. So WHY IN THE WORLD is my kids school putting more emphasis on daily classwork and homework (where kids are more likely to mess up) than on tests (where they can show they've learned from their mistakes and are ready to demonstrate mastery of the skill learned)?

And, on the whole EMOTIONAL GROWTH thing, shouldn't kids feel safe to make mistakes, knowing that they have the opportunity to learn from their mistakes without being penalized? And, shouldn't they be taught to LEARN from their mistakes so that they can CHANGE their skills in order to get the correct result?

Again, when I was a teacher, what I did was this: take your test. When you get it back, you can correct anything you got wrong and earn back 1/2 of the points you missed (assuming your corrections were done correctly!) So, a student who gets an 80% on a test can do corrections and bring up their grade to a 90% (missed 20 points, corrected them, reclaimed 1/2 of the credit, so that's 10 extra points). I felt this taught students to see that making a mistake is not the end of the assessment. IN LIFE, DON'T WE ALWAYS LEARN FROM OUR MISTAKES? AND IF WE DON'T, I'D ARGUE THAT WE REALLY SHOULD!!!

I am just shaking my head and wondering, where did the breakdown happen? Why have the teachers at my kids' school gotten so focused on counting up points and assigning a grade without thinking about what that grade means? Now, I have never been one to make a huge deal about the actual grades my kids receive. If they get an A that was no sweat, it's not as important as a B that I know they really worked for. I'm more concerned with them stretching themselves and learning.

Which begs the question: Are the teachers concerned about them learning? Or are they just concerned with punching numbers into the gradebook program on the computer?

Here's another example: my son Charlie Brown did a class assignment where he had to put a group of numbers in order least to greatest (four 3-digit numbers per group). The lines were drawn on the paper in vertical columns. So he put the least number on the bottom and the greatest number on top. There were 8 sets of numbers. He got every set right, but the teacher checked every single answer wrong because he did them bottom to top instead of top to bottom. She circled the instructions "Least To Greatest". I mean, if she stopped to LOOK at his work, she could see that he clearly understood what to do. And the instructions did not say "Put the Least Number At the Top of the Column". So, I don't really see why he would get every problem counted wrong. He got a 38% on that paper. Do you think 38% represents the knowledge he demonstrated? EVEN IF the directions were on the paper (which they weren't), would he really need to get every answer checked wrong? Is that an appropriate penalty? Considering, this assignment will likely end up being about twice as important as a test grade.

All I can say is WHAT. THE. FRACK.

See, if I were still on my Prozac I'd probably be all "whatever" right now. So, maybe it's a good thing.

I am still figuring out how to balance being an advocate for my children's best interests, and at the same time not being an annoying pain in the ass parent. I guess if I have to be a pain in the ass, at least I'm an involved parent, right?

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Details

I was reading a fave blogger of mine, Anymommy, and one phrase of her post about her newborn son, her 4th child, immediately conjured up feelings that I didn't even realize were buried deep in my brain and my heart:
I never noticed that with Gee or Cue. Is it because I was so novice,
so fixed on doing things right that I missed the details?

There are so many moments from the infant and toddler stages of my first 3 children that I just don't remember. And I find that - there's no other word for it - shameful. My kids just love to hear stories about themselves. How Peppermint Patty was my first baby and I was so unsure of myself. I'd constantly cry and say to my husband, "But do you think she knows me? Do you think she loves me?" Charlie Brown, he was my big 'un. Born at a whopping 10 lb 3 oz, my husband and the doctor saw him being born and their eyes turned into saucers. Seeing the looks on their faces, I yelled, "WHAT? WHAT? Is he missing his ears? What's wrong???" To which they just responded, "uh, no. Just keep pushing." They were both just shocked at seeing such a huge baby. And Linus, poor poor Linus. I had a really hard time bonding with him. He was sick a lot as a baby, and he cried a lot too. He had reflux, jaundice, thrush, failure to thrive, and RSV, all before he was 4 months old. I had trouble nursing him and gave up at 6 weeks, so of course I was convinced he was going to grow up to be significantly less intelligent than my other two children. (Correction, I had trouble nursing him while living 10 hours away from my family and also caring for a recently potty trained 3-year-old and an 18-month old in diapers. Plus making dinners. Plus laundry. Plus the occasional shower. Sleep? fah-get-abott-it)

Details. Ah, those precious details. "Mama, what was my first word? When did I start to walk? What was my favorite outfit? How old was I when I got that toy?" The questions linger with no answer. Sometimes I will make up an answer that seems plausible to satisfy their curiosity. It is just too painful to admit, "Um, well, I was kinda going through this thing called postpartum depression, so I don't remember much from those years." I never really suffered from it, but I certainly was not myself. But even after I had gotten my hormones back on track, I felt like the Jill of all trades, master of none.

I felt ill-prepared for all my grown-up responsibilities. Caring for 3 children, keeping a clean house, making time for my marriage, making time for myself, paying the bills, volunteering at church, etc. Looking at other moms only made me feel worse. The reality of their lives didn't matter. They might have been drowning in their own issues at home. The perception I had of these moms was that I needed to do it all at least as well as they were doing it. I had to have my house tidy enough for guests to stop by unannounced. I had to grow a garden with vegetables that I would later grind up for fresh baby food. I had to take my kids to the library regularly (and return the books on time). I had to participate in the ladies circle at church and attend regular meetings. I had to prepare nutritious and filling meals for my husband and somehow get my children to clean their plates too.

So, the details got forgotten. They got left behind. Or, just maybe, I didn't even know there were details to be kept in my heart. I jumped into motherhood with two feet and barreled forward. My first 3 children were born in 37 months. I had read every mothering book I could get my hands on. It helped if I could finish a few pages at a time while on the potty or during their nap time, since I didn't have much spare time for reading. But I asked other moms about their secret weapons of child-rearing. I closely observed families playing at the park. I researched parenting web sites. But, how does a book or website or human advice teach a person how to absorb your children? How can someone be taught to make something inherently important? I don't know if you can.

Having my 4th child, Baby Sally, taught me how to be a mom. I think that before, I was basically a day-care provider. Keep 'em clean, keep 'em fed, keep 'em safe. The rest was just too much for me to put into my head. Frankly, I think I would have gone into overload. I did what I needed to do at the time to keep myself sane. But, the cost is that I missed all the details.

Now that I know what I missed, I am trying twice as hard to remember the details. I cherish my children a little bit more, I think. I snuggle them more often. I never mind when the baby wakes up early from a nap. I try to be more patient when they spill milk or track mud into the house. I feel like, now that I have a better handle on this motherhood gig, I have freed up space in my head and my heart to remember the details. I know how many teeth all my kids have lost. I take their pictures all the time. I know what they want for their birthdays. I remember all the special nicknames I have for them ("Picklehead", "Special Boyfriend", "Special Prince" and "Princess" respectively for Peppermint Patty, Charlie Brown, Linus, and Baby Sally). I know what games they like to play - and I sometimes play those games with them.

Sometimes details aren't that important, because it's the big picture that matters. But sometimes, details are the only way we can see the big picture.


Texan Mama Peppermint Patty Charlie Brown Linus Sally

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Uninspired

I wish I had something really interesting to write tonight, but I'm feeling in a bit of a funk. I have decided to stop taking my Prozac because the last time I got the prescription filled, there were two very LARGE and BOLD stickers on the bottle, which read:

Do not take this medication if you are pregnant or breastfeeding. Consult your doctor.
and
Do not take this medication in your third trimester of pregnancy.

Even though it was my OB who prescribed my meds, I decided that this was probably a good time to take control of my own health. I had already decided to stop taking the meds before the baby was born, so that I could breastfeed. Plus, I was on a pretty low dose anyway. But, since quitting the Prozac, I cried for the first time the other day. The only way I can describe the feeling is... foreign. And, I've found myself snapping at my kids more. Feeling like I'm not able to handle the stress. But, I've figured out that I just need to get a handle on it. I need to make some behavioral changes in myself. I'm not saying that I can will myself into feeling better, but to be honest I wasn't exactly suicidal to begin with. I began taking Prozac as a coping mechanism. Now I just need to find a different coping mechanism to replace the Prozac.

So now I am beginning to remember how I felt before I started taking Prozac. My husband has been walking around in a sour mood all night long. And, I question myself, "Did I do something to piss him off?" and "Should I try to reach out to him, or should I just stay out of his way?" and "When he snaps at me, I need to remember that he's just in a bad mood and not to take it personally" and "Why in the hell won't he just talk to me? If he's mad at me, don't I have the right to know what I did so we can work it out? And if he's not mad at me, shouldn't I be the one he wants to turn to?" It was so nice when I was on the Prozac to not worry about this shit, and I didn't even realize I wasn't worrying. I just didn't. Now, I worry, and I worry about worrying.

I am also so unmotivated. I hate paying bills, so I put them off. I'm not a delinquent or anything. I know basically when every bill is due, but when the time comes to pay it I am scrambling to find the bill and sometimes I have one hour to pay the bill before it's due, or I'm already one day late and I have to beg the company to take off my late fees. I always pay my bills in full every month, but I hate the constant record keeping. On that subject, I usually keep really meticulous records of our checking account in MS Money. But, I haven't entered anything in that account for about 4 months. The longer it goes, the more I dread doing it. But I'll have to get on it very soon, because once the baby comes I won't have ANY time. Then, before I know it, it will be tax season and Texan Papa will be saying, "now, how much mortgage interest did we pay this year?"

If you've made it this far, you deserve a reward. I'm even bored by this post. You can bet I won't be picking this one for any Flashback Friday a year from now.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

The RETURN of Stuff I Don't Get

Ahh, there are so many things in life I don't get. The list just keeps getting longer and longer. Why do I have so many questions? Maybe every time I hear an answer, I form a new question in my mind. Who knows?

So, here's the first thing I don't get: garage sales
When I go to a garage sale, why oh WHY do people put all their crap out and then mark NONE of it? Is this really what they consider a good way to make a sale? To force people to ask, "Excuse me, how much is this used foot bath?" or "How much is this bag of seashells?" or "What will you take for this giant box of Christmas lights? And do they even work?"

This might just be a Texas thing. Every other place I've lived, it is the accepted practice that you mark all items with neon stickers or a piece of masking tape with the price written on it in Sharpie Marker. I mean, who really comes to a garage sale because they prefer second-hand stuff over new stuff? Personally, I do it because I want to find a good deal. And how can I do that if NOTHING IS MARKED????

I get that sometimes a garage sale is a last-minute venture, and getting those old t-shirts and Christmas tchotchkes out for sale at the crack of dawn is important. But, while the sale is going on, how hard would it be to walk around and stick some stickers on the things you don't want to just dump in the trash can???

And, while we're on the subject of garage sales (as I am having one with my friend this weekend), why in the world do people always try to get stuff for cheaper than it's marked, no matter HOW CHEAP it's already marked. Got a practically brand-new coffee maker marked for $5? Sure, offer me $3. Because, you know, I enjoy storing all my shit for 6 months, and setting it all out on a table, and giving up an entire Saturday to sit in the questionable weather, and then getting as little money as I can for it. I mean, I've already tried to price things low enough for exactly this reason, to avoid the haggling, but whatever.

Okay, onto the second thing I don't get: TP'ing.
Yes, I understand the concept of TP'ing. That ritual was in practice long before I ever hit puberty. But when I was a kid, TP'ing someone's house was an act of defiance. Usually it involved sneaking out of a friend's house during a sleepover party, stealing toilet paper from a gas station's restroom, and moving quietly in the very dark night to avoid getting caught. This prank was usually pulled on someone who you didn't like, or (more likely) someone rumored to like the same guy YOU liked, even though he'd never given either one of you the time of day.

But, nowadays, it seems that TP'ing is just considered a rite of passage (and on a separate note, do you think it's "rite" (like ritual) or "right" (like justified claim)?), and so many parents want to witness/allow/encourage that rite of passage. I DON'T GET THAT!

I read this question on a mom site that I subscribe to:
I have a 14 year old son who is dying to T.P. (toilet paper) a friends house. He's asked me for permission. As a mom, I'm torn. I was allowed to do this when I was a teenager. He's asking for permission instead of sneaking around or out. Do I let him have some innocent fun and appreciate he asked first or tell him "no" as my husband's point of few is that it's vandalism. Although he feels that way, he really doesn't care either way. Any thoughts would really be appreciated.

I was shocked at some of the responses. Yes, I'd say, it's certainly something I did as a child. But, I also did things like drank beer before the age of 21 and shoplifted a lipstick or two. I was even so bold as to take my parent's car out at the age of 15 (with no learner's permit). But neither did I tell my parents about these acts nor did they approve them. If they HAD known, I am not sure I would have reached adulthood. Just kidding. But anyway, I'd agree with people who say TP'ing is harmless. It's a pain in the butt to clean up, but it is harmless. BUT it's just one small step away from egging someone's house or car (VERY destructive) or putting shaving cream on their windows (can be destructive), or knocking over their mailbox (definitely destructive).

Around here, the kids will TP someone's house, then go back the next day to help clean it up. That REALLY makes me ask the question, What. The. Hell? You have got to be kidding me. Isn't that the whole point of TP'ing? That the person who gets TP'ed has to clean it up, and it's a pain the butt? Why would you purposefully TP someone's house, then CLEAN IT UP YOURSELF??? WHERE'S THE FUN IN THAT?????

Am I just too old to understand?

(If you want to read the original question and all 140 responses, go here.)

As a funny side note, I have to tell you about an experience I had earlier this week. As my kids were standing down at the corner, waiting for the bus to come, another kid (I'll call him Bobby 'cuz you all know how much I love King Of The Hill) asks me, "Have you ever been ding-dong-ditched?" To which I respond, "Oh yeah, that happens all the time. It's kind of annoying because sometimes the baby is sleeping and it wakes her up." So Bobby says, "Yeah, one time my sister ding-dong-ditched you. She said that you came out of your front door with a flashlight and said, 'I know where you are!'" I just had to laugh... I couldn't remember doing that but it didn't surprise me that I had.

I guess I'm officially the meany old lady on the block. Wear the badge with pride, I say.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Flashback Friday - What Is American?

WOO HOO! Giddy'ap y'all. It's FLASHBACK FRIDAY!!!

1581884212_57276dd550_o Flashback Friday

Here's a post from last summer, when I'd JUST started blogging. When I re-read it, I was like, "HMMMM.... deep thoughts...." And now that we have a different dude in the White House, it gives me even more pause to think about America.

Now, go get yer post that's an oldie but a goodie, and come back here to link up with Mr. Linky!

Go on! Git!



Tuesday, July 1, 2008

What does "AMERICAN" mean?

Now that I am getting addicted to blogging like a too-old Hollywood child star getting hooked on meth, I am visiting lots of blog sites. I don't even know if that's what they're called, since I'm getting hooked so early and I am still a blog novice. Anyway, I visit lots of blogs. I read what people write. It makes me laugh. Sometimes it makes me think about myself. Mostly though, it just makes me realize how different I am from some people and how amazingly similar I am to others. This may seem like a no-brainer. But it never fails to amaze me how easy it is to find a friend online, but I have so much trouble creating friendships with people in real life. You should know that I was voted MOST OUTGOING in my senior class, which basically translates into "Most likely to do outrageous behavior in order to get attention". I sure hope that those who know me now would not remember me as "The annoying gal from the party who wouldn't shut up." But what constitutes as annoying? The answers are as different as people are different. Does having an opinion contrary to yours make me annoying? Again, I am so surprised when I visit websites what other people consider to be funny. Or exciting. Or even just appropriate.

One site I like, because of the author's wit and writing ability, is Crunchy Chicken. She lives in Seattle and is a certifiable tree-hugger. I question lots of what she says and if we lived on the same street I can't say I'd be her favorite person to hang out with. Especially after she saw all my plastic bags on the curb filled with baby diapers and non-recyclable trash. But she is very funny and she is really honest about herself and her views.

Another blog I subscribe to is KEEP BELIEVING, written by my best high-school gal-pal. She's a lot like me. Almost my twin ... my shorter, cuter, funnier, more fit twin. She also is honest about her life and the ups and downs. She's a serious Christian, like me, and not afraid to share her views. If I lived on her street, I can guarantee we would basically live at each other's houses because my sons are almost identical to her sons in personality and age. Plus I could raid her beer fridge and she'd be the perfect hostess.

One other blog I read is The Story Of My World. Carrie loves to talk all about her adventures in homeschooling. I am a certified high-school teacher and I always wondered if I should try to homeschool my children. I saw and heard about all those moms who homeschooled their kids and the result was happy children, protected from the evils of the world, learning way above their grade level and being accepted for early admittance to Yale. Okay, maybe not that last one. But I always thought, maybe those moms just love their kids a little bit more that they can stand to be around them 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Not me, no how. I love that my kids have to learn to listen to other adults besides me and my husband. I enjoy watching them participate in a school musical. I hang up their art projects on the refrigerator that I know I would never have been creative enough to teach them. I am not cutting myself down here; I am merely recognizing my own shortcomings. I know I am good at lots of things, better than some folks at one or two. But when it comes to teaching my own children, I will leave that to the professionals. It took me a long time to get past the whole "I don't love my kids enough to be around them constantly" thing. Now I understand that what I'm giving them is not time away from me but rather time with friends, time with other loving people, time to learn how to be citizens in the world at large.

Now, it is close to the 4th of July, so I have been thinking about America. I mean, what does it really mean to be "AMERICAN"? Is an American defined as a person who fits the stereotype that other countries have of us? By that I mean: an overweight person driving a big gas-guzzling car, eating a Big Mac, having road rage, and when he/she gets home there is so much extra food for dinner that the overflow is simply thrown away. OR is an American defined as the new wave of our country: an Eco-Friendly pacifist who only rides a bike or walks (or drives the french-fry car), buys everything organic and sternly rejects the idea of organized religion in favor of free thought and worldwide tolerance and acceptance.

I have to be honest. Right now I do not like America. If I could move to another country with my family I would do it. Unfortunately I have too many anchors here in the United States to keep me from going - some good and some bad. My extended family is all here, my friends are here, my children have just started school, we've just bought a house, we don't know any other languages, etc. But living in America is chipping away at my heart, little by little. What happened to the America of years ago? Words like PRIDE, HONOR, SERVING YOUR COUNTRY, OBEY, and CITIZEN are becoming words to be mocked. The very thing that our country was founded on - freedom - is the thing that is going to tear us apart. Everyone is free to think whatever he or she wants, do whatever, be whomever, say whatever, and then some. If today I can burn an American Flag and hide behind freedom of speech, what is next? My opinion is that if you hate America so much, THEN MOVE SOMEWHERE ELSE AND HATE US IN A COUNTRY THAT DOESN'T SUPPORT YOU. The same people who burn flags are the ones who will collect social security when they are 70 and you can bet that they cashed that economic stimulus check last spring. I just can't help but hate those people who hate America.

But right there is exactly what I'm talking about: Do I hate them because they hate America, or do I hate them because they're different from me. Am I intolerant? Deep down, do I just want to live in a society where everyone thinks the same way I do? After all, that's anti-American, isn't it? I mean, wanting to exist in a world where freedom is quashed. I guess there is a boundary somewhere, like... you can have free thought about how much to pay for something, but not free thought about whether you will pay for it or not. I guess what really irks me is the people who claim to be free-thinkers, but really just want everyone to think like they do. The new Go Green movement reeks of antiestablishmentalism (is that a word?) but really it's just a movement toward a new establishment with its own set of rules and boundaries. Buy organic. Grow your own food but don't use pesticides or chemical fertilizers. Don't use air conditioning because of the leaks into the atmosphere. Buy a hybrid or alternate fuel car. Pay more for all these things to further support the movement. If you don't you're an enemy of the earth, destroying it for future generations. (insert growl here) BAD HUMAN!!!

So, is the blog world representative of America? I guess it is. For every interest and every niche there will surely be a blog that will feed that intellect. And before long I'm sure there will be blogs with questionable content (unless there are already - I'm just not aware yet). The internet is the new forum for free speech so undoubtedly those blogs will go uncensored and continue to promote the ideas of the masses, no matter how healthy or unhealthy they may be. God help us all. For now the best I can do is to just carefully choose my content and pray that I don't get too worked up the next time I hear some crazy inbreed spouting off at the mouth.

One last note: Here is an example of poor judgement when considering free speech. Last fall (2007) I went to a children's museum with my 3 kids while I was pregnant with my 4th. The kid-to-adult ratio there was about 4 to 1. My older two, Peppermint Patty and Charlie Brown, can read pretty well by this time. One adult male, aged about 30, looked in his closet that evening and chose to wear a t-shirt that read "MAN WHORE". Now, of course, that idiot had the right of free speech to wear that t-shirt. He wasn't committing a hate crime. He wasn't endorsing violence. But what kind of person wears that shirt to a CHILDREN'S MUSEUM???? Very subtly I steered my children into another room away from the offending t-shirt and didn't have to answer the question, "Mommy, what does 'Man Whore' mean?"

God Bless the USA

Thursday, September 17, 2009

In A Moment

Hey everybody, Don't forget to come back tomorrow to participate in Flashback Friday! Just find an old post that you'd like to resurrect and repost it tomorrow. Get my fancy-schmancy button over there in my sidebar and post it on your site along with your recycled post. Then come back here and link up with Mr. Linky! WHEE!

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If you give a MOM a moment, she will
sign a permission slip
put a load of laundry into the washer
kiss a boo-boo
write a grocery list
brush her teeth
fill two pockets with stray Lego blocks
turn off all the lights
defrost meat for dinner

If you give a kid a moment, he/she will
squirt diaper cream all over the desk, and themselves
dump Kool-Aid on the carpet
eat a booger
learn how to unlock the front door and discover the street
give their bologna to the dog
put lipstick on their face (boys)
try to pee standing up (girls)

If you give a dad a moment, he will
take a nap

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This post inspired by Mamakat's Writing Workshop over at Mama's Losin' It

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Just Say No To Mommy Guilt

I ran across this really funny cartoon in Sunday's Parade Magazine:

I know I am reprinting this cartoon without permission. Sorry, David Sipress. Sorry Parade magazine. If I ever make once cent off this blog I'll be sure to cut you a royalties check.

Anyway, I laughed out loud when I saw it. It was kind-of a sad little laugh, one that says, "Ah, so funny. But also so true."

To all the moms out there, how many times have you been accosted with unsolicited advice from know-it-all strangers about your mothering techniques? Me - too many times to count. I can still remember the first time it happened. I was at church with my 7-month old daughter. My first child. It was MAY. And, being the abusive type that I am, I decided to let her come to church without any socks or shoes. Well, you'd think I had brought her out in 30 degree temperatures in nothing but a diaper. All the ladies at church were all, "Oh my goodness! Where are her socks and shoes? She's going to get so cold! Babies should always wear socks and shoes!" Then they'd grab her tiny feet and rub them against their hands, like they were trying to warm them up. FOR GOD'S SAKE PEOPLE. IT WAS LIKE 85 DEGREES OUTSIDE!!! Not to mention that I had her in a pumpkin carrier with a blanket.

So, actually, that probably wasn't the very first time I got unwanted advice about how to be a better mother. I know my mom talked to me about giving Peppermint Patty formula, when all the "How To Be a Good Mother" books insist that I give her only breastmilk. The nurse at the hospital gave my baby a pacifier, much to my horrification, without asking me first. Because, you know, all the La Leche League people tell you that this will cause the baby to have nipple confusion.

Do I really need to go on? Anyone who is a mother knows that every new decision about parenting is agonizing. Once we've been down the path a few times and know what kind of terrain to expect, it's a bit easier. But the first time we have to make a decision about our kids, one that we're SURE will impact them forever, it's simply heart-wrenching.

This is why I get so very Very EXTREMELY frustrated with advertisers. Advertising, at its very core, is designed to manipulate consumers into believing that their product is the best. Or the best value. Or the most advanced in its class. Whatever. And, as an intelligent adult, I would say that I do a pretty good job deciding for myself if *I* really need the most high-tech dishwasher or the very best instant potatoes in its class. But, when it comes to making purchase decisions for our children, my brain just goes to mush.

I mean, is it even possible to put a price on how good is "good enough" for our children? Ultimately, don't we all want the absolute best products for our children? And, who decides what is the absolute best? I'd say that advertisers have a really good position in the market to convince mothers what they need to buy for their children in order to be the very best mommies.

I'm not going to say that all mothers are that insecure, that they need to be TOLD they're a good mother in order for them to believe it's true. But, honestly? How many mothers can really say that they get full satisfaction by being spit up on and by comforting a screaming child for 6 hours a day? Add to that a kid who hates every meal you make (unless it's toasting a Pop-Tart) and turns up his nose at the new shoes you just bought him. If Junior can't say, "Mom, you rock at this mothering gig!" then maybe the company who tells us, "You are providing the absolute best product for your child" will convince us that we should be up for mother of the year.

Oh, and by the way, the product that guarantees us a spot as "Mother of the Year" has a price. And it ain't cheap.

I have never felt like it was a competition with my fellow mothers around me. Well, maybe at the beginning I felt that way. But over time, I could care less if other mommies said that their kids were perfectly smart or mannerly or gifted. Usually they were just puffed up anyway. But I (still) can never get past the competition I have with myself. Am I doing a good enough job? Am I doing all I can to give my kids the very best? Could I be doing more? If I choose to do less, is that the most selfish choice of all, even if it means a mentally healthier me?

And, the strangest thing about all of this is that I can think of no other group of people that are more fierce than moms. Got a problem with the 2nd grade teacher at school? Did you get bad service at a store in town? Did a doctor keep you in the waiting room for too long? Trust me, you don't want to cross them (us). It only takes a few phone calls to start the grapevine buzzing, and before you know it, you are dancing a jig just to keep us happy.

But, tell us that our child could be killed in a car accident because we're driving a vehicle that DOES NOT have side-curtain airbags, and suddenly we're lying in bed awake at night, just waiting for the impending doom of the following day. Okay, maybe I'm the only one lying in bed awake at night, but you get my point. Do I love my child a little less because I don't hand-grind the baby food, instead opting to buy Gerber in the jars? It is an indication of my lack of concern for their well-being that my children get sugared cereal more often than getting plain Cheerios? And, speaking of sugar, every time I go to the dentist I think that *I* am more nervous than they are about how many cavities they get. It's like a little report card on "How well has your mommy been making you brush your teeth?"

Perfect example: last year my son Charlie Brown got a dental checkup, when he was 7 years old. The dentist told us that we should probably consult an orthodontist. "For what?" I asked. He told us, "For braces for his baby teeth." I was floored. I asked the dentist if that would guarantee he wouldn't need braces on his adult teeth. The dentist said, no, but he would probably need them for less time. I wrestled with that decision for weeks. YES it would probably be BEST for him to get braces in 2nd grade, if it meant better teeth in the future. Was it NECESSARY? No. Could we AFFORD it? Probably, but it would be tough. Could I TRUST what this dentist was saying? I didn't know. He didn't actually tell us to get the braces, but he told us to consult an orthodontist. Now, how many doctors are actually going to turn away a patient? I mean, putting braces on a kid's teeth means money earned for themselves, right? But I felt so weak. I felt at the mercy of people who claimed to know more than me. I thought that if I didn't follow the suggestions of "smarter" people, it would be tantamount to abuse or neglect.

I think we (mommies) should RISE UP! And QUIT FEELING GUILTY! AND QUIT ALLOWING OTHER PEOPLE TO MAKE US FEEL GUILTY! AND QUIT MAKING EACH OTHER FEEL GUILTY! So what if your carseat is Britax and mine is Graco? So what if your child eats organic and my child eats McDonalds? So what if your child wears Ralph Lauren and my child wears Garanimals?

I'm okay. You're okay. We're all just fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy some extra pillows and duct tape so I can make some minor adjustments to the interior sides of my minivan. It's the only way I'll get any sleep tonight.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Lord (And Fellow Bloggers) Help Me!

I have been known to give a bit of free advice. Sometimes I've been called clever or even brilliant. That just makes me blush. Plus, I can't really accept that I'm brilliant so much as maybe just lucky. I guess that this mothering gig is a honed skill, one that I've been honing for a while now. My tools: other moms who know a thing or two, a select group of parenting books, and lots lots LOTS of prayer.

So, I'm coming to you, seasoned mothers. Heck, I'd like to open it up to mothers, fathers, grandparents, teachers, and anyone who has ever met a child. That's good for me. I need your help before I pull out what remaining hair I have left.

My children love to tattle on one another. And I think if I have to listen to one more person say, "MOOOOMMMMM, so-and-so dumped out the trash can" or "so-and-so won't get off my blanket" or "The baby won't do what I'm telling her to do" I may poke myself in the eye with a butter knife.

I have told my kids to handle it on their own. I have told them to try to solve it by themselves. I have tried to help them solve it. I have told them to just go away. I have worn my MP3 player to simply ignore it. But nothing works. Unfortunately, Texan Papa does not share my loathing of the tattling. This probably comes from him not being around most of the time. He works 2 nights a week and the entire weekend. So, his exposure to tattling is limited. Plus, he wants our kids to feel that they can tell us anything at any time. I think this is from his fear that if our kids are ever abused, they might be afraid to tell us for fear that we'll get mad at them for tattling. I see his point of view but I think there must be a constructive way to teach our kids the difference between telling on someone because they want to be the authority on bad behavior, and telling on someone to keep them safe. I'm still having some trouble with the gray-area tattling: telling on someone because they are being naughty, but if I find out I'll be happier to know sooner rather than later (like if my older child tattles that her baby sister is coloring on the wall with a crayon.)

There must be some happy middle ground! Please, Lord, tell me it is so!

GIVE ME SOME ADVICE INTERNETZ PEOPLE!!!!!

Sunday, September 13, 2009

10 Things You Might Hate About My Blog

I have been using Entrecard* for a while to check out new blogs and also get my blog out there in the blogosphere. I ran across a cool site called "1o Things I Hate About Your Site". You might think it is an opportunity for somebody to just bash another person's blog or website, but I don't think it is. I believe it's a chance for an objective eye to look at a blog and give an honest opinion about the layout, readability, accessibility of links, use of color, attractiveness, etc.

Sometimes, after visiting a site that forces me to search for the posts after sifting through a zillion ads, or it takes 3 minutes to load because of some goofy video, I want to write a comment about it. But I never do, because I'm a big wuss. And, for all I know, some people think my site is annoying in one way or another.

So, I've asked the author of "1o Things" to review my blog. I hope it doesn't hurt too much!

And, go ahead... if you have a comment about how I can improve my site, let me have it. I think (I hope) I can take it!

*Entrecard is a community where people display a widget on their sidebar, allowing other Entrecard users to click on the widget, indicating that they have visited an Entrecard site. The widget displays another website from the Entrecard community. If you're interested, check it out. It's an easy and free way to network with other bloggers and website owners.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Mean Girls (and Boys)

The part of school which has always scared me the most is not the threat of getting bad grades. It's not the scary teachers or the complex math problems. It has always been people who are mean.

And, not much has changed after 25 years. Only now, I'm scared of people being mean to my kids.

We just finished our third week of school. Our kids are adjusting just fine, but I don't know how I'm doing. I am a little sad about all the rules, no doubt as a reaction to people in the community who freak out about kids' public safety. So, I can't come up to school at recess, I can't be in the classroom to watch my child except 20 minutes once every two weeks, and when I come up for lunch I can't eat anything off my child's lunch tray.

Those rules are frustrating, but I understand why they are in place and I admit that it's better to be too cautious than too permissive. An ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure, right?

But, one adjustment I can't get past is how some kids are so mean to each other. I know that not everyone is nice in this world, and everything is not sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. But, for goodness sakes, why can't a kid's childhood school time be immune from nasty comments, at least from their peers?

My younger son, Linus, was having a really hard time adjusting to the new school. I told him, why don't you invite a boy from your class to come over to play at our house? So, the next day, he asked Brad* if he'd like to come over to our house to play. Brad responded, "Why would I want to do that?" And yesterday, I had to pick up my older son Charlie Brown early because he was feeling sick. He went back to his classroom to get something he forgot and bumped into two kids (one who is a friend and one who he doesn't know) in the hall. He said to one, "Guess what? I am going home." The friend said, "Why?" so Charlie Brown said, "I'm sick." and the other kid - the one he doesn't know - said, "Then why are you talking to us? Geez. Get lost!"

I know that kids aren't inherently mean; they learn mean behavior from people who are mean to them, or by watching other people be mean to each other. I'm sure these meanie kids have parents or siblings who use unfriendly language to each other and to them. That fact alone makes me so very sad. But, just like they learn it from home, they also probably learn it from other kids in their neighborhood or class. Which is why I am SO NERVOUS about my kids being infected by these schoolmates of theirs. Texan Papa and I have worked really hard all these years to teach our kids that they should be kind to one another and never talk in a way that they wouldn't want to be spoken to. Is it really so much to expect the school to teach the same principles? I know they won't base their behavioral expectations on Christian ethics but I think the Golden Rule has kinda transcended religion and become part of all mankind's view of common human decency.

I would love to see our public school start a campaign about "Bee-ing Nice" maybe with a Bee as a mascot or something. Maybe recognize one student each week who is especially helpful or courteous and put their picture on a bulletin board in the hall, saying "Something to Buzz About". While I'm sure our public school doesn't openly condone rude behavior, I don't really think they are emphasizing the importance of kindness. It's in the little things: saying "Yes?" instead of "What?" when someone is getting their attention; remembering to say "Thank You"; offering to help instead of waiting to be asked. When I suggested this, Texan Papa just rolled his eyes and said, "When our kids hear someone being mean to them, just tell our kids to say, 'Please don't talk to me like that.' That's enough for them."

See? Women are all about the relationships. Men are all about not talking. I am so onto him.

*Brad is not this kid's real name.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Flashback Friday is Back, Y'All!!!

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Hey everybody! Today is Friday so you know what that means... it's FLASHBACK FRIDAY!!!

You don't even have to come up with something new and spiffy for the last day of the work week. Just dust off that post you wrote a long time ago that never got the attention it deserved. Go ahead and search through your archives and polish it up real purdy-like. Then come back here and grab the button for your post (see it over there on the left? Just put the html code wherever you want the picture to appear! Easy peasy lemon squeezy). And don't forget to leave your mark down below with Mr. Linky!

Thanks for playing!!

Thursday, September 10, 2009

What Does Marriage Mean To You?

This post is inspired by MamaKat's Writing Workshop.

Age 20: Marriage is a goal that I must achieve. Marriage is all about me finding someone perfect. He must be average build, not too tall or too short, have good breath and good teeth and a good family. Preferably with blond hair.

Age 25: Marriage is about meeting someone who has the same goals in life that I do. I will marry someone who loves me and respects me and who understands the responsibilities of being a husband.

Age 27: I have married someone with a mind of his own. Dammit.

Age 30: I want to be married to someone who agrees with me more. I want to be married to someone who is more quick to forgive me my screw-ups ('cause I make a bunch of them). I want to be married to someone who makes me feel comfortable.

Age 32: I wish I were married to my best friend's husband. He has a regular 9-5 job and they have a date night once a month. Plus he's hot.

Age 34: I am so thankful I am married to a man who still finds me desirable after the stretchmarks from 4 pregnancies and lots of moles and he's even smelled my farts. And, as much as I hate to admit it, when we don't agree it causes me to stretch myself. He makes me think.

Age 36: I am so glad I'm still married. So many of my friends have been divorced or are on the brink of divorce. I'm so blessed that my husband is willing to make our marriage work no matter what it takes. And, I have come to recognize that he really DOES respect me, in his own unique way.

Age 37: I have realized that marriage is not about finding your perfect match. Marriage is not about projecting the image of a perfect couple or perfect family. Marriage is not about growing ourselves personally. Sometimes marriage is about picking your battles. Marriage is not about romantic evenings or in-laws or money. Marriage is about honor. Encouragement. Respect. Keeping your mouth shut sometimes. And speaking up sometimes. It's about trusting that the other person will not think you're weird if you reveal a secret about yourself. It's about giving the other person space but also being their safety net. Marriage is not about one person. Marriage is about giving more of yourself than you expect to get in return - honestly, not with resentful feelings.

And, for me, marriage is about faith. Faith that sometimes I need to trust someone else. Faith that God knew what He was doing when He put me together with my husband. Faith that whatever problems may come my way in my marriage, I can handle them somehow - by solving the problem, or waiting until the problem passes, or by asking for help - because no problem is so big that I can't handle it with trust in God and the help of my husband.

I know, not everyone is the religious type, but I feel pretty strongly that I could not have found my special guy on my own. God's hand was in it. Definitely.
Texan Mama and Texan Papa

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Growing Pains

Every time I enter a new phase of motherhood I find a new heart-wrenching choice to make. And, no matter how important and possibly life-altering the decision seems to be, I always look back and think, "What in the world was I sweating over THAT for?"

First it's medicated or natural delivery. Then it's sleeping-in at the hospital or sending the baby to the nursery. Then it's breastfeeding or bottle feeding or some of each. Pacifier or no pacifier. Cloth diapers or disposables. Beech-Nut baby food or make your own. And at what age should I start potty training my little angel???

Before you know it, it's time for little Johnny to go to preschool. Suddenly, trying to decide if you should decorate the nursery with airplanes or soccer balls seems so trivial. I mean, what school will be the starting point for my baby's no-doubt-bound-for-Harvard future? Exactly which institution will have the right teaching philosophy, teacher-to-student ratio, ethnically diverse population, and discipline style to fit our family? And, when it comes to a quality educational experience, can you put a dollar value on that?

I began this mental flip-flop right along with the best of them. I sent my first-born off to a preschool that my husband and I had researched, toured, and put our name on a waiting list. We were willing to keep our daughter out of preschool altogether if her name did not make it to the top of that list, but such a fate was not to be. She went off to preschool on Tuesdays and Thursdays for 2 hours a day to begin her educational journey. And do you want to know what happened? Well, nothing too remarkable, really. She made a macaroni necklace. She brought a flower for show-and-tell. She learned how to sing "Little Bunny Foo Foo". I learned that maybe, just possibly, I had some expectations for the school and for my daughter that may have been a wee bit too high.

Kindergarten came and we agonized over where to send her for the next phase of her academic development. We decided on a parochial day school with small class size. And she... did fine. She didn't jump ahead a grade level and she didn't fall behind her peers. She did just fine, and continued to do fine for the next 3 years. Then, we moved.

When we chose our new house, we looked at schools and actually bought a house because of where we expected our kids to be attending school the following year. We toured the school and considered ourselves experts at navigating the school waters, now that we had two in school and a third was to start kindergarten that fall. We listened to the principal and read reviews online. Our decision was made. And now, one year later, we've pulled out our kids and put them in the public school. There wasn't anything horribly awful about that school, and our kids certainly didn't suffer, but we got to the point that we realized we had pretty high expectations for the school and those expectations just weren't being met. Plus we were spending quite a bit of money for tuition. And, while a good education should be worth every penny, exactly what price do you put on a mediocre education?

We considered all our options: I could go back to work and earn enough to send our kids to another, more expensive private school. We could pull all the kids out of school altogether and I could homeschool them. We could leave them in the school they were at and continue to pay tuition, but lower our standards and expectations. Or we could try the public school. We don't have anything against public school, but we had no experience with public school so we had no idea what to expect. And, being a very religious family, we were cautious about releasing our children from the protective parochial bubble they'd been inside until now, carefully protected and sheltered. None of the options seemed good. Some seemed more plausible than others. But, which ever solution we chose didn't really seem to solve anything. Our kids were going to be at a disadvantage one way or another.

But, the end result of our most recent mental wrestling match has been a lot of growing pains, both for us and for our kids. We've learned how to deal with disappointment. We've made a conscious choice to lean on each other and support one another. And we've looked back on things like, "Remember when we fretted about weaning the baby from the bottle? That seems so silly now." My mom always said, "When they're little, they have little problems. When they get big, they have big problems." Which scares me to think about the growing pains I have to look forward to.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Separate, But Equal

There are so many days that I longingly wonder what it would be like to have an only child...

The problem is, I can't figure out which of my children I'd want to have for an only child. They are all so special and all such stinkers too.

But, I do envy every parent who never has to deal with the endless competition, the constant comparisons, the relentless reminders of "I haven't had my turn yet!" and "He got to do it last time!" and "These two pieces aren't equal! IT'S NOT FAIR!!!"

A few years ago, I thought I had come up with a genius solution to this problem. It has worked pretty well for a while. I can't remember if I've told this before, so I'll just tell y'all again. I give each of my older kids a special day. Peppermint Patty has Monday and Thursday; Charlie Brown has Tuesday and Friday; Linus has Wednesday and Saturday. (Sunday is MY day and what I say goes and no one gets any time off except me. And if you're a mom, you know that's code for, "I don't get any time off, but I'm going to make sure everybody knows it and feels guilty about it.") When it's their "special day", they get 30 minutes of computer time. They get to sit in the middle row of the minivan. They get to pick the TV show after school. They get to be excused from washing/drying dishes after dinner. They also get to be the first one in the shower. If we go somewhere or do something, they get to be the one to pick it (or, at least, pick from the choices I offer). This has helped with me trying to remember whose turn it is, or who gets to go first, or how to be fair. This way, everyone knows that it's fair because they know they get a turn. They know it's all equal.

But for goodness sakes, I am so sick of it all. They can find a way to fight about even the most trivial of situations. "You've been sitting on the couch for 13 minutes and I only got to sit there for 11 minutes! MOM, can you make him let me sit on the couch for 2 minutes???''

Lord, please keep the aneurysm at bay, at least until my husband gets home from work. Thank you. Amen.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

What Freedom Means To Me

I don't want to imply that caring for my kids is like being in a jail. Actually, I think that having more kids has helped me appreciate how much I love kids. But I am a real person, a real human, a real adult. I don't wake up in the morning and say, "Good morning children! I would love to make you three separate breakfasts. And help you comb your hair. And clean up the pee on the floor next to the toilet. And have a conference with your teacher. And spend 90 minutes making a meal that you turn up your noses at, then dash away from the table in about 14 minutes flat. That is my idea of paradise!!!"

Today my husband left to visit his parents for a few days. He took Baby Sally with him, so while the kids are in school Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday I will have my days FREE!!! Here are some thoughts I had about what I might be doing or not doing this week:

I might:
take an extra nap or two or three
make some more stamped cards for my Church craft fair
go to a movie by myself, and share my extra-buttery popcorn with no one
finally balance my checkbook after 5 months of neglect
get some things together for the big consignment sale
organize my photos on my computer
install and figure out how to use my webcam

I am going to try my hardest not to:
sit on the couch and watch t.v.
keep checking my e-mail
cleaning things that are already clean or don't need to be cleaned
shop aimlessly and spend a bunch of extra money
stay up late at night
miss my husband and my baby

Wish me luck!

Flashback Friday: Doin' It Texan Mama Style!

Hey all you lazy-butts out there.

How do you feel when Friday rolls around? Let me guess... You've lost focus. It's been a hard week. You're not looking for a slam-dunk of a post. You just basically want to finish out the week with some grace and style.

Well, I can't promise you any grace OR style. But I can promise you a chance to shine!

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Thanks to Scary Mommy, I will officially be taking over the Flashback Friday segment! WOO HOO!!!! So now you can forget all about coming up with something original. Just sit on your laurels and find that post that you always loved writing but it never really got the attention it deserved.

THIS FRIDAY (9/11) will be my first Flashback Friday!!! Do you wanna play? 'Cause you're invited! And, while you're at it, grab my button for your post so other people can play too!

So, don't forget to come back on Friday and link to your post with Mr. Linky!

C'mon! Join the fun! All the cool kids are doin' it!!

Friday, September 4, 2009

ENOUGH ALREADY!!!

Okay, you two. Go to your separate corners. Enough fighting.

And by "you two", I mean Donkey and Elephant.

I am so freakin tired of listening to my husband spout off about Obama and how he's going to drag America into the ground, how he's practically the Anti-Christ. Every day Texan Papa has a new rant (that he undoubtedly got from Rush Limbaugh or Ann Coulter or someone equally as wacked out) about the declining state of our nation, all because of the fault of our President.

Now, just so you're clear in understanding me, I am a Republican. For the most part. I don't really care about politics as much as I care about specific issues. I don't want Social Security to run out before I get old. I don't want Nationalized health care. I appreciated (and have used) the WIC program but I think the food stamp program is abused. I think that college tuition costs have risen so astronomically that it's insane to think that we are going to be able to produce a generation of people who have graduated college AND can control the debt that is now on their shoulders. I also think that in this, our capitalist nation, we should not forget that hard work and intuition is rewarded. People who just do mediocre are not punished. Not being able to drive a car is not a punishment. Only being able to afford catastrophic health insurance is not a punishment. And, I think that the government should toss out the idea of giving people "free" health care (and by "free" I mean taxing the working Americans for it and people who just don't want to work at McDonalds get to use it) and instead give a pile of money to ALL companies (even McDonalds) for anyone who will work for them, and continue to use private insurance. Wouldn't this make more people motivated to get a job, if they knew they'd get health insurance no matter what?

Okay, I'm sure I'm going to get a shitstorm of negative comments for all my ideas. But, like I said, I'm not a huge fan of politics but rather just issues. And Obama is on the opposite side of the fence concerning most of the issues that are of importance to me. But anyway...

Why does everyone have such a hard time just simply disagreeing with issues and leaving the people out of it? I don't think Obama is such a bad guy. Actually, I am pretty convinced that he does care for our country and wants to make it better. His methods are not the methods I would choose, but I don't doubt for one moment his sincerity to make our country a better place for all Americans.

For example, the whole Obama address that will happen next week in schools across America. I don't know yet if my kids will see it or not because I haven't heard if their school is going to broadcast it or not. But, if they do see it, I say, WHO CARES? I have a feeling that the speech will basically involve a bunch of, "Stay in school" and "Don't do drugs" and "Respect each other". I'm hoping that Obama is not going to use his time with young impressionable children to discuss abortion or the war in Iraq or national health care. But if he does, WHO CARES? Actually, it would create some great talking points with my kids about Obama and what he believes in and, in contrast, what our family believes in. Also a good talking point would be how to respect the office of President of the United States while at the same time respectfully disagreeing with him. It would be a GREAT opportunity for them to see that an adult, especially a person in a powerful position, can tell us what is best for us, but it is up to us to decide if we agree or disagree, and it doesn't always mean we should do what they want us to do.

My husband Some staunch Republicans may say that Obama is just a wolf in sheep's clothing, and his "Nice Guy" act is the method he uses to weasel his way into the American public trusting him, so he can act more brazenly and aggressively to change our government to one of socialist reform. Well, whatever. I just want us all to quit fighting and hold hands singing Kum Ba Yah.

Is that so hard?

Thursday, September 3, 2009

The First Day of Dry Sheets

I have been battling off-and-on with one of my children to stop wetting the bed at night. Because I know this is not a naughty behavior, I have refrained from getting angry with them. (At this point I am going to use incorrect grammar and say "them" or "they" because I don't want to single this child out. I just feel it's more respectful if I can protect their privacy. So forgive the incorrect pronouns, please.) I have certainly gotten frustrated and exhausted, but I have repeated over and over to this child and to myself, "You can't control yourself while you're sleeping. I know you're not doing this on purpose. I know you want to have dry nights as much as I want you to!"

This child has been potty-trained for many years. They have a few problems during the day, like not wanting to stop playing to pee and then getting a little bit of "overflow" on their underpants before they can make it to the potty. But, there's no misunderstanding of what the "I have to go" feeling is. And when asked to just go, on command, this child can always do it.

Last year, I bought a night-time bed alarm. The instructions that came with it were very helpful. They explained that if a child does not have GOOD daytime control of their bladder, then nighttime control will not happen either. It went on to say that kids who pee in a big hurry, or make "pit stops" as they call them, never fully empty their bladder. Therefore, the child's bladder is in a constant state of being tensed and holding in urine. This becomes a normal feeling for the child and they don't know what it would feel like to have a relaxed, empty bladder. So, when bedtime comes and the child goes to sleep, the child's bladder is finally fully relaxed and the urine which is still in the bladder comes out. The alarm company explains techniques the parents can try to get their child to improve their daytime potty habits. We worked on this from last fall until about April of this year.

Now, I'd been working on dry days for a while so I have been trying since the spring time to get this child to have dry nights. (I say I because my husband's support of this process was mostly in a supervisory role, or one of encouragement. When it came to actual washing of the "pee sheets" or scrubbing a urine-smelling mattress, he was nowhere to be found.) I limited their liquids, I cut off all drinks after dinner, and I made sure they went potty before bedtime. But still, consistently, this child will wet the bed every night.

For a while, my husband and I would get the kid up in the middle of the night to pee. Usually that helped, but eventually it was even worse... we'd be staying up late just to get the child up to go potty, then the child would STILL wet the bed.

In April I decided it was time to begin putting the nighttime bed alarm to use.
Basically, the parent clips the sensor to the child's underwear directly in the spot where the child will pee (so, different spots for a girl or a boy). The sensor is connected to a wire that leads to the alarm, which is connected (via safety pin or magnet-clip) to the child's pajamas, very close to their head - so they can hear and feel the alarm when it goes off. When the child wets the sensor, it vibrates and makes an alarm sound similar to but not quite as loud as an alarm clock. The idea is that over time, this device will trigger in the child's sleeping subconscious at the time when they are about to pee, and the child will wake before they start to pee. The child needs to learn how to wake themselves up at night when they feel the sensation to pee. The literature explains that from beginning to end, with consistent use, the process can take as long as 12 weeks.

So, we filled up an air mattress in our bedroom and armed ourselves with plenty of extra sheets and underwear and Clorox disinfecting spray. Starting in April, and the whole month of May, we would go to sleep at night, only to be awakened by the bed alarm. We would help our child wake up, go to the bathroom, and try to pee. Sometimes they would, but usually they had already eliminated everything on the sheets. We'd clean the child up and put on new sheets. This seemed to be going well - the child would not wet as much when they did wet and the child had an occasional dry night, but then in June we went to St. Louis for a long family vacation and I didn't want to deal with the bed alarm while on vacation. Then we came back in July and it was summer and we were on a different schedule every single day. Summer is not a great time to do anything that requires consistency. So, I just let it go. By this point, the nighttime wetting was happening about 60% of the time, which WAS an improvement.

It was my intention to get back into using the bed alarm once school started. But school just started last week and I wanted to give all my kids time to adjust to the new environment. Then, last night, the strangest thing happened. I was sleeping on the couch (because apparently this pregnancy has blessed me with the gift of breathing like a freight train while I sleep. It keeps my husband awake, so we take turns sleeping in other locations) and my kid comes to me in the middle of the night and wakes me up, and asks if they can sleep with me on the couch. So I say, "okay but go pee first." and the kids says, "I already did." I got up and looked and sure enough, this child had woken themselves up, gotten to the toilet, gone pee, and kept dry underwear.

This is such a huge breakthrough. I don't expect it to happen every day. As a matter of fact, I'm going to look at this as more of a fluke than a new pattern. That way I won't be disappointed if this kid keeps wetting the bed. But I can't tell you how excited I am that this may be the first step to my child gaining a little bit more dignity. This kid wants so badly to be dry at night and it breaks my heart to not be able to help them.

So, while I'm not counting my chickens before they hatch, I certainly am keeping a little glimmer of hope alive in my heart. Goodness knows my washing machine could use the break.

This post inspired by the writers workshop from MamaKat at Mama's Losin' It.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Share Your Opinions - Video Camera or Not?

The setting: Mother's Day, 1999. St. Louis. Cramped Apartment. One slightly pregnant woman and one very calm daddy.

My husband left the house for 4 hours. I was crazy with being scared, then angry, then steaming mad! Where in the hell was he? He said he'd be back in about an hour!!!

Texan Papa was out buying me a video camera to capture all the moments of our little Peanut's birth and no-doubt momentous life.

The video camera we got was a Hi-8 VHS camcorder. It's the kind that has a teeny tape inside it, then you transfer the video to a VHS tape using cables and a VCR. The camcorder has been our main mode of recording family events for about the first 8 years of our family life. Then, once I got a digital camera, I started recording shorter movies on the video setting of the camera. Now that I've got a rockin' camera, as well as a much larger SD card, I can record up to an hour of video on my still camera.

So, it's kinda a no-brainer that I should get rid of my old camcorder. It makes a loud humming noise when I record video. It only transfers to VHS (which might as well be an 8-track tape at this point, right?) But, since I started recording movies to the digital camera(s), I have never transferred them to a DVD. They just sit on my hard drive. I know I should learn how to get them onto DVD, but it just seems so painful to try to figure out how to do it. Do I need a DVD-R or a DVD+R? And what is the difference? And why is there a difference?

I know, I could always go get one of these.
They're pretty affordable and they'd have instructions with them and everything! And, best of all, it's PINK!! But, if my still camera already does video recording, wouldn't I just be wasting a few hundred bucks buying a digital camcorder specifically for movies?

What do you think? Do you have any experience in this area? Please let me know. I know I can't trust those charlatans at Best Buy.