Admissions of a Phonophobe

Photo credit Sneerath H B

I started out really liking tech toys.  When I was two, my friend Iván had the coolest electric toy train set.  It looked like sooooo much fun, but he wouldn't share.  So guess what I wanted for my birthday?  Yes, all the keeping up with the Gomez' starts early.  By the time I was in first grade, I had my own computer (a TRS-80) and was delighted to be part of a special class that got to use computers in school (mostly, we just played Oregon Trail).  I loved to answer the phone, and was excited to find out that I could call my dad at work, even though I didn't know the number.  He was not quite so excited to get a phone bill with a large number of person to person calls.

Then, as I grew older, my enthusiasm waned.  I began to get really nervous talking on the phone.  I would pace and write myself a script, even when calling a friend.  I hated talking to someone I didn't know, and would avoid it any way possible.  Answering machines were the worst.  Knowing that I was being recorded was terrible pressure.  I would frantically rush through, trying to remember all the important pieces of information, and still generally leave out something important.  I felt so stupid.

As an adult, I had to do it through sheer necessity, but that didn't mean I had to like it.  I did, however, like having other people leave messages for me.  In the olden days back before caller ID, I was still a fan of screening calls.  My husband and others were perplexed at how I could be in a room and let the voice mail pick up.  I just didn't see a ringing phone as an imperative.

My husband loves tech toys.  He uses his phone all the time, is knowledgeable about all the latest computer info and developments.  Me?  If it works, I'm good.  I didn't even know how to create links in my blog posts until a few months ago, and only recently learned how to add pics.  We got our first cell phones a couple of years ago, and just got a plan where we could text a couple of months ago.  So it is safe to say that I am a little behind the times.

But, I am still changing, at least.  One of the biggest evolutions was a thorough dislike of phone messages.  I think it was because of the way my old cell phone was set up.  It took forever to listen to a message.  The maddeningly deliberate computerized voice would draw everything out so slooooooowwly.  Hello.  Accessing your voice message system (several beeps).  You have...2...new...messages.  First message.  Received...today...at seven...twenty-two...A.M.  Now, all of this build up would make it seem as if there were a critically important message waiting.  But no.

At least 19 out of 20 messages were from a delightful lady, who shall remain nameless, and primarily consisted of random info about people I don't know.  "Hi, just calling to see what you were up to.  I am on my way over to Wilma's house.  (I have absolutely no idea who Wilma is).   She fell down yesterday when she was removing her Christmas lights and really banged up her knee.  She can move it well, but is still in a lot of pain.  And on top of that, her blood pressure has been acting up, and she may have to see if she can switch medications... (Naturally, I am saddened to hear of Wilma's misfortunes, but not having any idea who she is makes it all seem rather... remote).  I think her son is coming to visit, too.  Or maybe it is tomorrow.  No, I am pretty sure she said this afternoon.  Anyway, after I check in on her, I am going to stop by the church and... (Usually, around this point, it cuts off).  I had wasted several minutes of my life only to learn that Wilma, whoever she is, is having a rough time, but will hopefully be cared for by her son, who is probably coming today, but possibly tomorrow. 

A small thing, I know, but nonetheless frustrating.  So, when my husband presented me with an ultra-cool new phone for my birthday, it wasn't just the apps that I appreciated.  Sure, I adore Pandora, and yes, I've become mildly addicted to Sudoku.  I love how easy it is to upload pics and being able to surf easily while one of the babies is nursing.  In fact, it has converted me into a huge tech-toy fan myself.  But one of my favorite features is that the voice mailbox was not enabled.  Lest I sound too callous, I call back as soon as possible if I have a missed call.  And if it were an emergency, they would have my husband's number, or they could text us.  It actually works out that I talk to them sooner, since I am not listening through interminable messages before returning the call.  The downside, of course, is that I may never discover who Wilma is. 

A Sip of Comfort

Continuing in the whole "write what you know" theme, today's post should be about sleep deprivation, because I am exhausted.  The baby seems to have picked up whatever bug the older ones got and was running a fever all night the last two nights.  As long as she was nursing, she was quiet, but if at any point during the night she lost her latch, she screamed.  I held her all night, snatching sleep in five minute increments here and there.  One or two nights like this isn't a big deal, but when they pile up on top of each other, I start getting loopy.  Despite that, though, I was deeply grateful, because I was doing something constructive to help us both feel better.

I hate it when my little ones get sick.  Even though I know their immune systems are strong and can use a little workout from time to time, even when I am reasonably sure that it isn't serious, even when it is short-lived, even though I have faith in the Creator of their precious little bodies,  I still hate it.  I hate for them to feel awful.  And I hate to feel helpless.  I want so much to do something, anything.  I want to be in control.  I hate feeling inadequate.

Last night, I thought for the zillionth time (more or less--too tired to count with any degree of accuracy ;)) how incredibly grateful I am that I can nurse my babies and comfort them.  Being aware that she was getting lots of antibodies and that she felt better because she was nursing was such a relief.  I've read enough about the problems with giving babies Tylenol, etc, that I don't even have any, and I've read enough about the benefits of fever to let it go most of the time.  Breastmilk has only positive side effects, there is never any fear of overdosing, and it doesn't require any special preparation or much effort (have you tried to force medicine into a tightly clamped mouth?).

As she slept nestled next to my breast, I could feel her temperature (and did you know that mothers' breasts automatically adjust to keep babies where they should be, getting warmer or cooler in response to them?  We are their own little climate control!).  I could feel her body relax against mine as she nursed.  I smelled the sweet scent of her head and breathed in peace.  We snuggled close and both began to feel better.  She dug her toes into my side, but I didn't mind a bit.

I've heard some ridiculous warnings against comfort-nursing, and even comforting in general.  Because, you know, they might learn to depend on us.  And think how dreadful it would be if a helpless baby depended on us!  Or how terrible for any person to look to the ones they love most for comfort when they were distressed.  Um, yeah.  Whatever.  I consider myself a healthily independent adult, and still appreciate having my loved ones respond to me. 

There is information at www.kellymom.com,  www.kathydettwyler.org , as well as other places on comfort nursing, but I don't really need it.  I am thankful that there is something I can do to comfort her, not just when she is sick, but any time she needs me.  This quote pretty much sums it up:

"You are not a pacifier; you are a Mom. You are the sun, the moon, the earth, you are liquid love, you are warmth, you are security, you are comfort in the very deepest aspect of the meaning of comfort.... but you are not a pacifier!" -- Paula Yount

A Sweet Thought

Photo by Tojosan

Thankfully, the puking plague seems to have been very short-lived.  By afternoon, the kids were feeling much better.  They began to get a little hungry.  Now, we pretty much allow the kidlets to eat what they want, aside from allergy issues.  However, I still give the obligatory parent speeches from time to time about healthy eating.  Apparently, Ariana (6) and Joel (4) have not only listened closely to my explanations about food, but added their own logical twist.

Ariana:  Mom, you know what we really need after all that vomiting?  We need probiotics to put some good bacteria back in our systems.  I think you need to take us out for frozen yogurt.

Joel:  Yes, and Mami? I want to get lots of candy on mine.  I know that the bad germs feed on the sugar in the candy, but that is my plan.  See, they will be so distracted while feeding on the sugar in the candy that the good guys can ambush them and beat them!

If they don't become nutritionists in the future, I think they both could have a career in negotiation.  :)

Yuck, yuck, yuck

Photo by Titanus

Before becoming a mother, I had no idea exactly how much exposure it entailed to bodily fluids.  I mean, I expected plenty of diaper changes, and knew that some degree of tummy upset was likely during childhood.  I just didn't realize that it would get on me.  Four kids later, I can't even guess at the number of times I have been peed on, pooped on and puked on (how is that for awful alliteration?).  I could also add generic spit up, leaking breastmilk, blood, sweat and tears, but that didn't fit with the alliteration. Forget mom-jeans--we should be wearing full haz-mat suits!

Anyway, the pukies hit our home last night, and I am too tired to come up with a thoughtful post right now, and since I am not sharing actual germs, wanted to share the misery follow the well-known advice to "write what you know".  However, between the older ones needing attention and care, and the little ones nursing non-stop (apparently trying to load up on antibodies--at least one was latched on all night long), my computer time is limited.  So, in the spirit of sharing, here are some older posts that seemed appropriate:

Eeewwww...gross!

Anything boys can do, girls can do better!

Even Murphy had Better Days

A birthday poop story

Potty Talk

Ay, mier...coles!

A Plea to My Fellow Parenting Advocates

"Each of us must come to care about everyone else's children. We must recognize that the welfare of our children is intimately linked to the welfare of all other people's children. After all, when one of our children needs life-saving surgery, someone else's child will perform it. If one of our children is harmed by violence, someone else's child will be responsible for the violent act. The good life for our own children can be secured only if a good life is also secured for all other people's children."
~ Lilian Katz

Being a parent means that I care more about everything.  It isn't just about things that affect me, or even anything that affects my children, but things that affect anyone's children.  We all have our hot button issues, of course.  For me, peaceful parenting and breastfeeding are two biggies.  However, I also care very much about circumcision, vaccination risks, car seat safety and several other topics that I don't blog about as much (which is one of the reasons for my Facebook page--to share more links!).  I am grateful to all the bloggers and writers who take time to advocate for children.  While you may choose to highlight different topics than I do, we are in this fight together to make the world a better place for our children.  Now I am pleading with my fellow advocates here in the US to consider a new topic that few are writing about:  the DREAM Act.

There are millions of undocumented children in the US who have been forced into a shadow life.  These are children who did not make the choice to come here, and often are not even aware of their undocumented status until they want to get a job or attend college.  Then their world comes crashing down.  They don't know any home other than the US (they can't even visit or else they wouldn't be able to come back to the US).  They often don't speak any language other than English.  They are ethical, hard-working, responsible kids who want to be productive citizens of the United States.

Once they graduate from high school, though, that becomes nearly impossible.  If they are caught, they will be deported.  Can you imagine the terror of being deported to a country you don't remember, that speaks a language you don't know, with no prospects?  So they are forced into hiding their status and praying that they never get caught.  But not getting caught means that they are also denied their potential.  They can't finish school or achieve their dreams.  Regardless of how moral and ethical you are, it is pretty tough to stay away from crime when your only other option is deportation.  Some lose hope and commit suicide.  Some are sucked into gangs and other criminal activity.  Most do their best to be good people and just stay under the radar any way they can.

I understand there are strong differences on both sides toward illegal immigration and how to fix our entire system.  I am not trying to get into that now.  The thing is, regardless of what you believe the consequences should be for the parents, these kids did not choose to come here illegally.  Denying them the chance to become legal citizens is immoral, unjust, cruel and just plain stupid.  It does nothing to help our country or the citizens of the US.  It actually hurts us all.  There is a lot of xenophobic vitriol spewed that is full of misinformation (just like with vaccines, circumcision and other topics).  This isn't an automatic amnesty bill--the requirements are rigorous, and all it does is give them a chance, not a guarantee. 

I don't care what your political views are in general.  This is just a human rights issue.  If you haven't yet become informed about the DREAM Act, please check out some of the links at the end of this post.  Despite the recent defeat, there are many DREAMers who are not giving up.  Read the stories.  Read the legislation.  You have made a difference already by speaking up for children who do not have a voice, or whose voice is too easily drowned out.  There are more children calling for hope, for a chance to reach their potential and give back to the country they love.  Will you please speak up for them, too?

Some of their stories

Fact sheets

DREAM Act Portal

More info

Photo from Pamhule on flickr

Beautiful Bodies

Image credit: bionicteaching on Flick

One of the things that I love about breastfeeding and birth is the message to our children that our bodies are, in short, amazing. There are so many subtle, ubiquitous messages in our society that our bodies are wrong--the wrong shape, the wrong size, the wrong color--and that they just don't work. I don't want my children to internalize those attitudes. There are a few things that I have consciously chosen to do to help fight that:

Awareness. The poison is everywhere. And it doesn't only target girls. I saw my four year old practicing muscle poses in the mirror. It was cute, and I didn't over-react or anything, but it reminded me that many boys also suffer from body-issues over size. I want to keep an eye out for any signs that these views are taking hold in any of my kids.

Watch my mouth. To this day, every single time I see my mother, she makes negative comments about her own appearance. So do most women, I think. I purposed in my heart when my first daughter was born that she wouldn't hear me running myself down about my body. I've been able to keep it pretty well, even when it is a struggle. Ironically, one of the hardest times to do that is if someone pays me a compliment! How crazy is that? My first response is always to negate whatever they say. I suspect that that is another example of gender-conditioning, and I know that Gothard is really big on always deflecting praise. It is incredibly difficult for me to accept it with a gracious "thank you", but I am trying to learn for my children's sake.

Control. Or rather, don't try to control things I am not supposed to. One thing that has come up with many people I know who have gone through eating disorders is that it was one of the few things that they were able to control in their lives. I want to allow my children freedom, especially over their own bodies, but in other areas, too. As babies, they breastfeed as much and as often as they want, so that they get used to following their bodies' cues on hunger and satiety. We have never forced food. Most of the time, they can eat whatever they want within the things we have in the house. We are designed to regulate our intake well, and if left alone, generally do so. Check out some of these posts by Authentic Parenting, Dare to Disciple, and Ask Dr. Sears.

Be an example. Along with modeling a healthy attitude toward my body by not complaining about it, I also try to eat moderately. Food allergies have helped tremendously in getting us used to cooking a lot and being aware of the ingredients in foods. On the other hand, there have also been plenty of times when I have excused junk if we actually find something safe for the kids to eat. Also, I have a big sweet tooth (or more accurately, several sweet teeth). It is hard to balance, sometimes. And I will just go ahead and admit that when it comes to exercise, I am a flat failure. I have lots of excuses, but that is what they are. However, we did get a wii fit for Christmas, so that might help. And we do lots and lots of outdoor stuff, walking and playing, etc. It is doubtful that things like sit-ups, though, will ever be in my repertoire.  Clearly, I need to put more effort into this step.

Talk about it. If they watch a Barbie movie, we talk about the lack of realism in Barbie's shape. We talk often about what real beauty is (inner and outer). We tell our children that they are beautiful, especially focusing on things like their eyes, as well as the beauty in their spirits and personalities.

I think these things will help. And I am sure that there is more I can do. One thing that troubles me some is that in our family, there are some people who joke frequently about weight. I've mentioned it once or twice, but it has been a habit of theirs for decades and isn't going to change. I am not ready to cut them out of our lives or anything extreme like that. There is no question that all the good things from the family relationships far outweigh that (no pun intended).

I also question media exposure and some of the toys we allow in the house, superheroes for one (despite enjoying the occasional movie, they aren't the least bit interested in Barbie dolls). Again, it seems that the enjoyment and imaginative play that they have is more important than trying to limit their access.

Our bodies are beautiful. I want my children to always do what they can to be healthy, but to never despise themselves or others for their uniqueness. I want to learn more and more about this topic, and to be more mindful of what I am teaching my children. Advice is always welcome! How do you teach your children that they are wonderfully made?

Confessions of a Non-Conformist

Like most kids, I desperately wanted to fit in when I was growing up. But for many reasons, I didn't. That became kind of a habit, and as an adult, although I still crave approval tremendously (one kind comment on my blog will have me smiling all day!), I have become much more comfortable with myself and going against the flow.

So I am going to make a confession. Please don't judge me too harshly. I have always been open about most of our parenting choices, even those that might provoke some controversy. But, I have never had a bad reaction to breastfeeding an older child in public. This, on the other hand, has garnered some passive-aggressive comments and dirty looks in the past. :deep breath: I let my children climb up the slide on playgrounds.

I shall add the hasty disclaimer that if someone is at the top, they always let that person come down first. Otherwise, they spend far more time going up the slide than coming down it. At the parks that have parallel slides, they race each other over and over to see who can get to the top first. Some parents strongly disapprove of this, I know. But I have yet to hear much of a reason for it. As long as other children are being respected and allowed to go down the slide, I can't find a reason to prohibit it other that "we just aren't supposed to do it that way."

When my sister and I were small, my mom's response to our incessant questions of why things had to be done a certain way was, "Because that's the way it is/was done." We found that nonsense, of course. Mere precedence was unsatisfying as a reason for me. It still is. Knowing that most people did/do things that way is comforting at times, but not reason enough to continue doing it that way.

Photo by Craneform

On some level, my mom must have felt the same way. When we were traveling through Europe, she pointed out several houses with lovely window boxes full of red and pink flowers. In a voice full of emotion, she explained that when she was in first grade, she had been coloring a picture and had been told by the teacher that it was ugly--that no one would put red and pink flowers next to each other because they didn't go together. More than 50 years later, she still felt the sting of that remark, and the exhilaration of being proven right.

I've heard several parents say that slides are not for climbing up--only for sitting down on. (Since I'm confessing here, I'll go ahead and admit that half the time, when our kids do come down the slide, they are on their tummies). I always monitor for safety, and they have always been great about that, too.

Why do I allow this? Well, it is more educational this way. Each time they climb up they are learning about physics, their center of gravity, balance, momentum and a host of other concepts. They are also learning that there is more than one way of doing things, and that while they should always respect others, they don't always have to imitate them. That is an incredibly valuable lesson. 50 years from now, I don't want them to regret not coloring according to someone else's vision of the picture. Finally, it is just plain fun! And really, fun is reason enough.

Believer's Behavior

I post a lot on spanking, gentle discipline and Christianity, because it is something I am passionate about. I know that not all of my readers are believers, and some of those who are are not against spanking. However, a recent post by Barefoot Betsy addresses one of the most neglected topics when it comes to Christians and spanking. Look beyond Proverbs. The Bible has a lot more to say on the topic. Dare to Disciple has outlined it better than I could, so please go check out this link: Believer's Behavior

Directions, a Map and a Compass

When we first began our parenting journey, we knew the destination we had in mind. We hoped to finish with healthy, happy adults, reaching their potential. We were offered a complex set of directions, a map and a compass, all from different sources.

At first the directions were reassuring. We knew this would be a long journey, and it was one we had never made before. The directions were quite detailed, and designed to make sure that we were always in full control of the vehicle. They promised no unnecessary delays--in fact, they were all about arriving as fast as possible: some of the steps promised that even infants would demonstrate adult-abilities (or beyond) of self-soothing, delaying gratification and many other life-skills. They also assured us of a quiet, convenient passenger. However, to reach our destination on time, we were required to drive a predetermined number of miles every day, regardless of the conditions of the road, the weather, the vehicle, our passenger, our bladders or anything else.

A couple of things made us question the directions. For one, they said that we must get gasoline only at certain times. What if our tank had a different capacity? Surely, if the low fuel light came on, we should pay attention, right? No, the directions were adamant. The car was trying to manipulate us. We must drive on, regardless of the fuel level. Well, that sounded pretty illogical. Another one of the directions, heavily underlined, was that we must never allow our companions to share driving time, even though they were they reason for the entire journey, and actually had licenses and credentials beyond ours. The directions even went as far as to hint that they might maliciously drive us in the opposite direction. That seemed a little unlikely, especially given what we knew of our companions and their goals, but the directions had it marked in red. They must remain firmly strapped in the backseat. Finally, we were never to stop or take any detours, again regardless of road conditions or even our own inclinations. As we read on, it didn't sound like a very fun trip, or even a safe one.

We were also offered a map and a compass. The directions weren't as specific. In fact, there were a few different routes highlighted. We were told that the best trip would involve shared driving time, to stop and refuel anytime we needed, to enjoy the attractions and rest areas of all the places we passed through. A few broken bridges were pointed out, and some delightful roadside attractions were marked. We were told to take our time, listen to our fellow passengers and properly maintain our vehicle. It promised that we would enjoy the trip. We were also given a heart-shaped compass. If at anytime the road was rough, or deviated, as long as we maintained a general course in the right direction, we would arrive at the right place.

The second option sounded like a much better fit for us, so we chose that. We haven't finished yet, but we are enjoying the journey. We have frequent stops for snacks and refueling. We visit all the cool attractions. We are careful to maintain our vehicle, and anytime the ride gets a little rough, we make sure that all the connections are in good repair. We share driving time, and try to agree on the route. If we don't agree, we double-check the compass to make sure we are going the right way. That was pretty hard for me at first. I wanted to hog all the driving time. I thought I could do it better and had more experience. Turns out, though, that if I just relax and allow my companions to drive, they steer it better than I do sometimes. I am still adjusting to their speeds. Some times I want to yell at them to go faster, and other times I want to screech to slow down. If I watch the signs though, they have always driven exactly at the speed limit. How do they know to do that? It is kind of funny, because even though we aren't driving the same rigid number of miles as the directions outlined, we are making good time and don't feel like we are behind. Maybe because this road is smoother?

Oh, and a funny thing. We talked to some people who have traveled this before, and found out that the ones who had made it to our destination hadn't fully followed the directions. If they started out with it, they wound up changing a little on the way. Someone said that the directions were mislabeled--that instead of going to our destination they were actually instructions for a race that involved going in circles on the same little track. I am not sure, but it would explain the emphasis on speed, the unwelcoming attitude toward passengers, lack of interest in roadside attractions and so on. However, I would still think they might need more than the prearranged schedule of pit stops.

Anyway, I am happy about where we are on the trip. I am pretty sure we are headed in the right direction, because I see markers for it pretty regularly. I have learned a lot on this journey, especially from the shared driving time. I have learned to have fun and not try to race through the trip. Most of all, I have learned to trust my compass and my companions. And it has been a great ride!

My Parenting Bookshelf--the Development Books

Honestly, I think that parental frustration could be reduced by at least 80% if more parents understood infant and child development. Especially if you have been exposed to the toxic blather about infant manipulation and other adversarial warnings, I would encourage you to spend some time reading. It really shows up the absurdity behind the writings of Ezzo and others who have no basis in reality.

I think we all want to be reassured that our child is on target. Even if it is a behavior that we don't like or enjoy, knowing that it is normal for that age helps us to put it into perspective. If we can understand why they are acting the way they do, it is much easier to ride out the tough times or to find better solutions.

The Science of Parenting by Margot Sunderlund. This just might be my new favorite. Current and detailed, it provides a wealth of information about infant development, including topics such as breastfeeding, sleep, crying, separation and more. Unlike a lot of books that are primarily the author's opinion, this one is a presentation of research and neuroscience. I love the brain scans! This is easily one of the best parenting books you could ever read.

The Baby Book by Sears. I love this book. It was the first source to encourage me to follow my instincts and parent the way my heart was telling me. It is such a complete book--development, attachment parenting info, medical advice, etc. Still one of my go-to books.

Your Baby and Child: Birth to Age Five by Penelope Leach. Excellent. I loved the fact that this one went all the way to age 5, and found that the info on cognitive development was very helpful. If the tone of the Sears books is a little too sugary for you, this book might appeal a little more.

Your One Year Old, Your Two Year Old, Your Three Year Old, etc. by Ames and Ilg. Having an entire book devoted to each year means a wealth of detail. These books have been tremendously helpful with explanations of typical behavior and development, equilibrium/disequilibrium, and more. While I had studied a lot in the 0-5 range, I had not seen nearly as much material for ages 6 and up. Your Six Year Old was the most scarily accurate of any book I have ever read. It definitely helped save my sanity. While I appreciate the development side tremendously, I strongly disagree with much of the discipline advice in this series, which is often simply to have someone else take care of the child. The valuable info far outweighs the rest, though.

There are several other books I have read, many dealing more with psychological and cognitive development of older kids, that I will try to come back and add. Some of what people assume is common sense when it comes to children is actually common nonsense because so many lack understanding of how and when children reach certain milestones and develop life skills. Just as in other areas, knowing truth sets us free--free to enjoy, to be at peace, to trust and to teach, to genuinely like our children more and to see each phase in perspective and get the most out of it.