Forever Parenting

Participation Parenting

Mon, 02 May 2011 17:46:45 +0000

Picture this . . . a Mom and sons learning Tae Kwon Do together. What are the benefits of participating with your kids and who is in charge during class time you may ask. Here’s how it benefits the relationship with my sons:

After the boys started taking Tae Kwon Do in April of 2010, my interest grew as I sat and watched. They were taking the “Little Dragons” class together twice a week. My motivation for signing them up was to give them the opportunity to learn something together, but my main reason was to help aid my middle son, who suffers from anxiety, the opportunity to participate in a sport with the comfort of his brothers beside him. I knew in my heart he wouldn’t sign up for anything until we built confidence within him.

The training hall where the boys were taking Tae Kwon Do is run by a family in which the kids of the family achieved black belt status as well as Masters (the highest black belt level). The parents run the business and the kids ages 12 and up volunteer to teach the classes. Other than the “Little Dragons” class they also had a 90 minute class Monday thru Friday every evening. As the dragons class would come to a close I would notice the 90 minute class getting ready, and members of the class included all ages. There were some Moms in there! Hum.

Thankfully in October of 2010 the training hall offered a Tae Kwon Do Light class that was only 60 minutes long and the timing was perfect, because the boys were ready to move up and leave the dragons class behind. So I signed up too and we began learning together.

During class the black belt instructor is in charge and I’m a student just like my sons, but I will admit there are times I give them “the eye” if they’re goofing off.

Since we are learning together it gives us something to practice together, talk about, have the same friends, and move up in the belts at the same pace. We are equal and it gives the boys an opportunity to help Mom if I get behind or don’t understand a kick, punch, or block and they do. They love that part!

To me this sport, that we can learn as a family, is priceless and we’re creating so many memories as well as adding another dimension to our relationships. How priceless is that?

by City Chic On A Farm

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The Power In A Name

Tue, 19 Apr 2011 17:01:18 +0000

Job and Lizze

My whole life I wanted to be a mother. I cared for my one baby doll as if it were a child. My desire for mothering was intense. After the formalities of getting a college education and a husband were precluded I set my sights on the biggest longing of my heart… a child.

After years of infertility, my husband and I struggled with how we would grow our family. The choices of more infertility treatments and adoption were both viable and expensive. It was during this time that the question was posed to me, “Do you want to be a mother, or do you want to be pregnant?”

That line brought so much clarity to our decision. We wanted to be parents. The pregnancy was not the end goal. I am a goal oriented, task driven individual. Adoption is a hands-off process. There is nothing you can do to plan or help the process along. At anytime each adoption can end -even after you have the baby in your home.

For those reasons our friends and family were supportive, yet guarded in their excitement and support. When Job arrived our baby showers were planned for after the 30 risky days had passed. Our child had my childhood bassinet, a stroller / car seat combo and a diaper bag.

The one thing in our control was choosing our child’s name. I have shared how we chose our children’s names here.

Tanya Crevier

Last week we saw Tanya Crevier perform at an Upwards Basketball Awards ceremony for Lizzie. Tanya is a spunky 5’3” dynamo with a contagious energy and spirit. As she wowed the audience with basketball tricks, Tanya shared her story of overcoming huge obstacles with perseverance and hard work.

Tanya ultimately played professional basketball for the Women’s Basketball League (WBL) for three years. As Tanya told her story she shared that she had looked up the meaning of her name. She found that it was a Russian name, short for Tatiana. Tatiana was the name of a king and a saint. Tanya drew on the heritage of that name as she “faced the giants” in the basketball courts.

Girly Early

I don’t know when I started calling Lizzie, girly early. But it stuck. It rhymes. It’s light and fun. For years Lizzie’s Asperger’s confused normal love and affection for her. She would want deep pressure bear hugs but resisted light touches. She wanted to hold mom’s hand always, but not get kisses.

Affection was always on her terms. She did not want direct eye contact. She would shun praise. When we said, “I love you” she would bristle and say, “No I love you’s.” It was so hard. This child I longed for, prayed for and would do anything for, would not let me in.

I think that was when I started calling her girly early. Asperser’s children tend to like rhymes and repetition. She has never shunned the name. It is my way of saying, “I love you, Lizzie” and she takes it.

How about you? Do you have a special name story to share?

by Warrior Mama

Lisa is a Cincinnati mom who has struggled the last 11 years to give her kids the best education, food and treatments money can buy. Raising special needs kids is taxing emotionally, relationally, financially and physically. Her dream is to break down the walls isolating special needs families and providing them with information to help them achieve their goals. Lisa blogs at Warrior Mama.

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Changing Tables, Diapers, and the World (Part 2 of 3)

Tue, 12 Apr 2011 14:36:03 +0000

As a new family, outings are going to be inevitable. I would imagine that outings are an opportunity to do something different for a change. Of course, the initial outing one takes with a newborn is different just on its own. In my previous article, the normalcy of going to a retail store was novel in of itself. My introduction to the lack of access to changing tables at a busy, national retail chain seemed surprising. Although the family restroom was closed, the lack of access in the men’s room was additionally difficult. The following day proved to have even more interesting and new revelations about what it would mean to be an active father of a newborn.

Our second day going out with our brand new, fresh-from-the-package daughter was for a specific and celebratory event. A co-worker of my wife was celebrating their newborn at a baby naming. The trip to my wife’s work was already charged with anticipation. Namely, we were concerned about my wife, a nursing mother, visiting her work during maternity leave and her co-workers respecting her “non” work mentality. At any rate, we were going to support another new family in our community, and were happy to go out. The fact that our outing was for an event, as opposed to going to the grocery store, was a bit different than our previous experience.

Prior to our departure, we planned intricately for the day. We had our diaper bag and back-up supply of clothes. We felt as prepared as anyone could possibly be, for new parents that had very little clue as to what we were doing. In fact, I spent some time dressing my daughter. I picked a cute white outfit that would fit the climate. I insisted in dressing her in something other than the obligatory onesie, as I felt the occasion warranted something other than pajamas. My wife and I proudly packed our daughter up, and off we went.

Our daughter slept the entire ride to the event, which was about a thirty minute drive. It was a beautiful day, sunny, a bit cool; but, overall entirely pleasant. We arrived a bit late, but at the same time as another couple with an infant. So, we felt comfortable knowing that when you have a baby, it’s okay to be late. It was even better that there were companions to walk in with, as if it were planned. We walked in to the room. The family of honor was reciting family notes to the group, family members that had traveled from afar were on the edge of their seats. Co-workers were equally engaged with the ceremonial aspects of a baby naming. Without warning, our daughter let one go so large that my wife and I swore she lifted herself out of her car seat. My wife aptly took her to change her.

After about ten minutes, there was no sign of my wife and daughter. I went off to search them out. I found them in a room, my wife on the floor with my baby. My baby’s clothes were spread all around. She was laying, giggling mind you, naked, on the portable changing matt. She had given a “blow out” as my wife refers to them. The kind of poop that somehow seeps out of the rim of the baby’s diaper and actually goes up the back. With white clothes, this is apparently a bad idea, and they had to be removed. I jumped in to get some paper towels, and do what I could to assist my wife with the cleanup. Since this was not a typical office, rather an educational institution, the lack of a changing area wasn’t surprising. Furthermore, the having to juggle this situation was more comical as it appeared our baby had a few things to think about her mother potentially going back to work. Lastly, Murphy’s Law always seems to play into these kinds of things, and will likely play into parenthood for the rest of our lives.

Cleaned and redressed in our back up onesie, we ventured back to the party. No one knew the difference and it was a very pleasant time. My wife and I simply shrugged our shoulders and realized that “blow outs” happen, and we were thankful we were both there to help out with such a mess. However, this is at a very controlled environment. In fact, soon after we cleaned our daughter up, she needed to be filled again. So, my wife retreated to her office, which had been unseen by her for several months, and fed our baby. It was obvious; the baby is going to be a baby wherever the baby is!

Once and for all we are in the car. We still had a large part of the day ahead of us. So, we decided to venture down to the 3^rd Street Promenade. A cavalcade of entertainment, retail stores, restaurants and people of all types. It seemed like the appropriate place to walk around and enjoy the beautiful day. Also, there was a new mall there we had not visited, and figured it would be another adventure.

Overall, the day was great. We met a friend for coffee, walked the street, saw several young women with guitars and dance troupes. Eventually, we made our way down to the new, outside mall at the end of the 3^rd Street Promenade. It was obviously a high end mall. This mall was intended for the elite of Santa Monica, and for those who can afford to pay retail on their clothes. This was not the kind of retail store we had visited the day before; in fact, it missed the target completely in comparison. Nevertheless, it was fun to walk around and look at the interesting things they had to offer.

Now, with all this being said, the eventual need to relieve one’s self is going to arise. We all have to at one point or another. Yet, it wasn’t until I became a father that I was so very aware of the inequality in this area between women and men. Yes, I was familiar with the differences in facilities; and, yes, I was familiar with the occasional women’s lounge (or so I had heard). On the other hand, I was not so aware of the striking differences of facilities for babies. Don’t all babies need the same facilities? A changing table, diaper and wet towel seemed to be at least the minimum needs for a baby. In fact, in the corner of my eye I noticed a designated area for babies to be changed in the men’s room. This was a big deal for me, especially after my disappointing experience at the store the day before.

Upon my exit from the men’s room, my wife left me in charge of the baby while she attended to her own needs. The baby did not need a change, and was napping in the stroller; so, no need to bother her. When my wife returned she looked at me and said, “so, did the changing table in men’s room have changing pads and diapers available?” I squinted with disgusted inquisitiveness and said, “no!” I wanted her to clarify what she meant. She went on to explain that they had all these things available for the changing station, just sitting there for the use of mothers changing their babies’ diaper. I was shocked, again another case where the differences were very apparent. However, the most striking difference was to come up.

We continued to walk around the mall. Eventually, we came to the mecca of retail and high end clothing. Personally, I had never purchased anything there, but my mother was always enthralled with this place. At times when I was a teenager I would sit and listen to the piano players while my mother shopped. My mother, who lives on the east coast, obviously does not get to see her grandchild that often. So, we took a picture of the baby and me in front of the sign. It was cute, and was approved very much by my mother. When we tried to put the baby back in the car seat, she began to fidget. My wife and I figured she needed a diaper change; after all it couldn’t be worse than earlier that day. We entered into the department store, blinded by the bright lights and price tags. We found the restroom area on that floor very close to the entrance. There was a family room, but was in use by men, as there was no men’s room. The men’s room was a floor or two down. Since, again, the family restroom was occupied, we could not use it. So, my wife grabbed the baby and went into the women’s lounge. I patiently waited outside and contemplated the true value of silk and designer clothing. Several minutes later my wife emerged with our child and ready to place her in her seat. My wife exclaimed that it was the largest women’s lounge she had ever seen. She went on to describe that there was a long area for changing babies, several at a time if necessary. Couches and hand towels that made ours at home look like roadside donations after a rainstorm. She described this lounge as if it were a secret hide-a-way from the ridiculous prices on the racks. Again, I found myself struck with a bit of changing table jealousy. If the women have that, did the men have a sports bar in theirs. Moreover, if they did have a sports bar, it’s not likely they would have beer nuts next to the changing tables. I am not even sure they would have a changing table!

I try to think of myself as someone who is pragmatic. I definitely do not see myself as chauvinistic, or one who plays heavily into stereotypes. Although, I do recognize that stereotypes exist for the reason that things fit easily into the stereotypes. Then again, I did not understand why something that was so natural, necessary and equilateral as changing a baby’s diaper needed to be stereotyped as only the mother’s responsibility. I mean, don’t the retailers want fathers to shop for their wives, daughters or mothers in these areas of the department store. Shouldn’t they make it as inviting for them to come in and shop? Oh, and wait, perhaps take care of their infant in an environment that is welcoming and luxurious. The reality is, as I mentioned previously, as men I don’t think we are taught to care about these things. What’s more, the idea of “changing table” jealousy is in its own right ridiculous. Yet, this was another experience that emphasized the differences between mothers and fathers, and their access to suitable tools to assist their babies in being clean.

Life might be unfair, marginalizing and downright unparalleled in discrimination, but I thought we had culturally moved beyond bathroom discrimination: At least, discrimination of babies and their parents. In no way would I make light of discrimination, but it seems that fathers are in fact being stereotyped. Mostly, fathers are being stereotyped as a group that does not change their babies’ diapers enough to warrant high end changing accommodations at high end locations. This, I feel is the heart of the matter. I am all for the luxuries women get in this area, they certainly earned it by carrying the child. I do feel, on the other hand, that men are not stepping up enough to make the change. If we were, the stores we visit would make sure we were equally as happy changing our baby’s diaper as their mothers. If anyone deserves it, it’s our baby. They have plenty of time to struggle in life, I don’t think getting a diaper changed should be the start of those struggles. Overall, shouldn’t it be the easiest for them. If they have to wait for a father to ingeniously come up with an alternative during a “blow out”, that baby is just going to cry out of discomfort. This in turn, of course, makes everyone else uncomfortable.

by Jon Abelson

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Creating a New Familiar

Tue, 05 Apr 2011 17:17:27 +0000

I was totally expecting to marry, continue to live in the burbs, and be a stay-at-home Mom. That’s what I pictured in my head as I grew up in the burbs of Cincinnati. It’s what I knew. It’s the way I thought everyone lived. NOT!

Little did I know I would marry a Country Boy at heart with the need to farm running through his veins and end up raising three boys on a farm in Indiana. If someone would have given me a glimps into my future and told me that was the outcome I would have laughed. Me on a farm! I don’t think so!

Well here I am. Ten years later and learning all about living on a farm and creating a new familiar. Thankfully I’m not to far from my hometown, but I’ll admit heading into the city is a treat now. Yep a trip into the city is a day trip, and I do everything I can to make it worth while and make my gas count. I usually even pack a cooler & snacks to save money.

Since farming isn’t something I’m familiar with hubby is taking the lead of teaching us about farming and country living. I have to admit it’s interesting to see how a farm is run, the assurance of knowing where the meat comes from that I feed the family, and the peacefulness of the sounds of nature. I wouldn’t trade this for the world!

Since I grew up in the burbs with a sister and now I’m living in the country with three sons I do what I can with the knowledge I have to be a good Mom. To me being a good Mom has nothing to do with location, and just because I’m not in the raising my kids in the area I grew up in doesn’t mean I can’t tap into that knowledge and experience of suburban living along the way. Heck who knows maybe one of the boys will end up living in the city when their grown and feel like a fish out of water. If so, I’ll be there to help!

Have you had to create a new familiar?

by City Chic On A Farm

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The Son Comes Up – Again.

Wed, 30 Mar 2011 14:09:39 +0000

If your child wants to move back home…

“Ask, will it have it’s advantages? Yes. Will they outweigh the disadvantages…?” (Quote from my spouse)
———————-

My husband and I became empty nesters around six months ago. We totally downsized our lives. Yes, we went from a 2500 sq ft., three story home, high taxes, higher prices to a one floor home under 975 sq ft. We were lucky in the recession/depression: we had enough money to pay off every credit card and put a down payment on the smaller home.

I had to stop working for a time. I had spinal fusion at the same time my son was moving away. I soon discovered that the joy of downsizing one’s life is priceless. I was grateful day after day after day for solitude, sanctuary, and a good cup of joe.

My son Eugene is all grown up. He is 21. He is about to receive his degree from in History. He also realizes how life has many responsibilities to it tied to the almighty dollar. He holds a part-time job, has a car payment, has an apartment… but we discovered not for long. Because of our shaky economy, my very independent son (or so I thought!) may have to move back home with mom and stepdad…yes, I welcome him with open arms, don’t I?

No, I don’t,

And that surprised me.

It was time for Eugene, the best thing that ever happened to me, to get out and stay out! He was 21 now. He had a full life.

We had a much, much smaller home. If we should have an argument – er, disagreement, how would we all just git along?

Eugene is about six months away from his degree in History. He needs to FINISH that degree, damnit it all! Could we not interrupt our newly formed delicate stressor-free balance just a little bit longer until he graduates…?…Then finds the right job…? Then a place of his own? And then? And then?

What about now? Why should we disrupt this balance we have now cultivated? After all, working on less stress in our down-sized, keep it simple lives may be the closest we ever get to retirement. Yes, we’ll have to work until we die, but what the hell, we have an independent living house to come home to! Sit-in shower, ramps, no stairs…it’s all good. Small. Quiet. I can watch “Matlock” on WGN America in peace…

But what about my son?

I was going over the pros and cons with my husband: Yes, I love Eugene! Oh, I love Atlas the Dog! I want Eug and the band to practice in the garage – but I would rather give him $1000.00 or darn close to it so we both keep our newly-found independence. And I’d find the cash: eBay – Craig’sList, hell, sell my engagement ring (did I SAY THAT? -but Tuition is paid for!)

So, if this is a declaration, fellow parents, what would you do?

by Abbe Buck

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I Want A Forever Family

Mon, 28 Mar 2011 07:16:33 +0000

When I hear the words Forever Parents it brings up warm feelings of family , love, and perseverance.

In May of 2002 Lizzie became part of our forever family. Many parents who have been blessed to have added children to their family through adoption celebrate the day their child officially takes their last name.

In our case it was our second adoption. Having adopted Job eighteen months earlier we were familiar with the adoption proceedings and formalities. But this adoption was different. After the judge declared that Lizzie’s adoption was finalized he asked us if we knew that her adoption story was shared around the country. Of course we had not.

The judge went on to explain that the day Lizzie was placed in our arms six months prior, the judge had also officiated over an adoption of a boy about to turn 18. He asked the boy the same question he asked Lizzie’s birth mom, “Why do you want to be adopted?” The judge went on to explain to the boy, about to become a man, that he was almost 18 and did not need to be adopted.

But the boy countered, “I want a forever family. I want these parents to be my parents forever.” Lizzie’s birth mom had made a similar comment that morning. “I want my daughter to have a mother and a father. I want her to forever be in a full family unit. I want for her what I cannot give her.”

The judge went on to share these stories of adoption in Washington, D.C. at a conference for State Supreme Court Justices. Unbeknownst to the judge, a close family friend of our was a state supreme court judge. She had been at that meeting and remembered hearing the story!

And that is our Forever Family story.

by Warrior Mama

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Attached At The Hip

Thu, 24 Mar 2011 02:00:40 +0000

“Can I just have a few more minutes… please?” My husband is having trouble waking up and jumping into Daddy mode. He got home just last night from a week-long business trip – the kind where you get to sleep alone in a nice hotel room and go out to dinner with friends after work. And then there’s the four-hour flight (also alone) round trip to read to your heart’s content, listen to music, or to sleep. Not that I’m jealous or anything!

I show some compassion and give him an hour, taking our two-year-old upstairs to play. Most weekends, we like to get up together to start the day because we don’t get to be together as a family very much during the week. I am aware that my husband and I could be alternating days when we sleep in, each caring for our daughter on different mornings for a couple hours. The reason this doesn’t work is because our daughter will not relinquish time with Mommy. I am apparently like air to her.

My husband works incredibly hard. He often works a 9 or 10-hour day at the office, comes home for dinner with us, and then works several more hours. What I am envious of is his ability to say “see ya” and head off to the gym or to work. I crave that solo time. He knows this and so this morning he tries to reciprocate. I crawl into bed to finish reading an article that I started last night and he takes our daughter into the next room.

This has definitely been getting much better, now that she likes more imaginative play and is gaining more independence, but mostly from 7am to 7pm, with a nap in between, our daughter is somehow connected to me. She has a hand on my knee while the other is busy with her crayons and coloring book. She twists my hair while we are reading a book. She wants to ride on my back as we walk from room to room.

My head sinks into the pillow and I am just starting to get absorbed in my reading when I hear little feet running back toward the bedroom. Did she just climb up onto our bed? Yep, that’s her shoulder in my neck. Sigh.

by Naomi Wittlin

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Naomi Wittlin is a stay at home mom, writer, photographer, and blogger (www.poeticaperture .com). She lives in Houston, TX with her husband and daughter.

The Stigma of Infertility

Tue, 22 Mar 2011 02:11:39 +0000

If someone you know is dealing with infertility, chances are you do not know it. The statistics state that 1 in 8 women are infertile and the overall statistic for infertility increases when you include male factor infertility. Infertility is a silent disease (and it is considered a disability under the Americans with Disabilities Act).

Unlike other medical conditions, infertility is considered a personal matter of which many couples do not discuss with family or friends. In addition, the debate about whether the desire to have a child is a “lifestyle” choice instead of a “major life activity” continues. Ask anyone who has experienced infertility and they will tell you that having a child is not a lifestyle choice.

In March, the Arizona affiliate of RESOLVE hosted their third annual Walk of Hope. The first year of the event we had approximately 300 attendees. The second year this number dropped by half. For the third annual walk we were hoping to see an increase over the second year or at least maintain 150 walkers, but our numbers dropped again. It came to my attention that many individuals did not attend because they, “did not want to be a poster child for infertility.”

I want to know why there is such a stigma attached to infertility. In a recent article I read about a couple who was sneaking fertility treatments so that their family would not know they were using a doctor to help them get pregnant. Why the secreacy? Why the shame? I don’t get it because I share my story, when appropriate. My daughters know that their parents could not get pregnant and so we went to a doctor. I’ve even described how th doctor removed my eggs and some basics of the embryo transfer. It is not a secret and as my girls get older they will realize how much we wanted to have children and how precious they are to us.

I am an infertility survivor and I recognize that not everyone who experiences this disease has a child. It is heartbreaking. I’ve heard the argument many times – infertility isn’t a valid disease because it doesn’t kill you. Yet it is a medical condition that deserves respect and awareness. But how can we convince the general public to support us in a positive manner if we are not willing to do the same? At one time breast cancer was a taboo topic and now everyone, even large corporations, support the cause by raising money and awareness.

If you were never touched by infertility in your own life, do you have any friends who have stuggled to add a child to their family? How did you judge them? How did you support them?

by Kelly Damron

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Changing Tables, Diapers, And The World (Part 1 of 3)

Wed, 09 Mar 2011 07:23:13 +0000

In raising children, being active parents, educators, and dealing with all the things that come with children, men seem to be missing. Yes, over the past twenty years or so, men have stepped up to the plate and men have contributed more to the raising of children then their parental predecessors. My father wouldn’t even change diapers (so I’m told), where as I seem to be elbow deep in the mess. However, it seems that it is still a mommy’s world when it comes to dealing with children; particularly babies. As a new father, I am perplexed by this observation. I am distressed by it, as I was under the impression that, as a community, we had become more egalitarian. It appears that this is not the case.

My first experience with this was after my family recently went for our first outing as a trio. Our new baby, just about eight weeks old, has been aptly sequestered in the confines of our house. Aside from going to the doctor, breast-feeding classes, and the grandparents’ house, she has only seen our kitchen, nursery, living room, and a bit of our neighborhood. Nevertheless, we ventured out for several jaunts on the weekend of her eighth week. To Target and lunch we went, to gatherings and the Third Street Promenade we schlepped, and finished with a President’s Day dining at a pizzeria up the street. In all cases, I found myself having to adjust to circumstances for my baby girl, simply because I was not a girl. The places we went, from casual to upscale, were not at entirely geared towards fathers, or even fathers helping mothers. It was about adapting to a world that was not adapted to me, a father.

Day 1: We finally emerged from our home, ready to face the outside world with our new, shiny, beautiful baby girl. We have truly been blessed as she has had no complications, no major problems, and overall, is the kind of baby parents dream to have (I will mention that I am abashedly biased). So, we ventured out to a deli close by. With the car seat’s movement, in and out of the car and into the restaurant, our little girl slept the entire time at the restaurant. She barely opened her eyes to see what was going on, and blissfully napped through our Turkey Pastrami. Perhaps, the exhausting work of growing at such a young age kept her down for the count. My wife and I reflected on how silly we were to wait so long to take her out to the world. We wondered if outings would be this easy (knowing full well that we were fooling ourselves).

As an attempt to be an involved father, the baby sat on my side. My wife, who is still on maternity leave, attends to the baby most of the time. Just to note, this imbalance of attention is mostly due to circumstances. Some of the circumstances are obvious: such as, no matter how hard I try, I simply can’t produce milk (at this point, we have not purchased a pump). Second, I do not have paternity leave, nor an abundance of days off to use, leaving my wife to spend her maternity leave with the baby alone. So, when I can, I try to help out with the baby. Nevertheless, when there are the two of us together, I try to get as involved as I am allowed too, both by nature and my wife.

In continuing our adventure, that was pleasantly normal, we ventured to Target. This part was fairly common place for us, like any other weekend retail trip. Naturally, we now had a passenger in our cart, but as she had done so far, she was a sleeping angel. The place was full of people, as you would expect on a weekend. After, what I think might have been an hour of putzing around and getting our knick knacks and groceries, the baby became fidgety. I took the baby to walk around and soothe her, as she seemed to settle down with the sway of the cart. Eventually, she was squirming enough for us to think she might need a change of diaper. OKAY! Our first public diaper change, and this was not a drill. This was truly exciting. My wife was shopping for something specific, and I was eager to attempt my fatherly duty for my baby’s alleged duty. I felt involved, engaged and an important part of the parental team. So, I scooted on over to the restroom area; and, not a moment too soon as I also needed to use the facilities.

Immediately, upon arrival to the restroom area I was greeted with “caution” tape over the “Family Restroom.” A janitor cart outside the door, and crossed tape like it was a crime scene, hinted to it being a bit too long for the “Family” room than we could wait. Well, I’ll just use the diaper changing station in the men’s room. First, I have to take care of myself.

Stop! What do I do with the baby? I wasn’t going to place her next to me in her car seat, on the floor, next to the urinal. Not only did I gasp at the idea of “over spray” hitting my baby girl in the eye, I clearly did not want anyone else’s hitting her either. I quickly envisioned a fierce scolding from my wife, not to mention my mother, mother-in-law, and brother-in-law, for placing my baby so close to such a possible germ threat. No, it was clear that it was not a good idea. I really wanted to fulfill this obligation, not put the baby on to my wife, who had not been out shopping in almost two and half months. The obligation to relieve myself was also beckoning loudly. Only two stalls to choose from, one being for people with alternative needs (i.e. a wheelchair). I could place her in her car seat in the corner, away from everything; I could do what I needed. She has the benefit of a diaper, so a few moments longer wouldn’t cause a catastrophe.

When finished, I washed my hands, and turned to look for the changing table. I should have looked in the “Family” room or the ladies room, as there was nothing in the men’s room. Absolutely, nothing! Okay, I get it, why on earth would a man need to change the diaper of his eight week old when obviously the baby would be with the mother at every given opportunity? Silly, I know! So, I went out to some “recycling” bins that were flat, and figured I could at least check to see if my baby needed a new diaper. On further inspection, she didn’t need any immediate change. I figured her excitability was to the new and exciting sounds and sights around her, or she was hungry. So, quickly I went back to my wife, reported that no diaper change was needed and that she was hungry. Obviously, my role in assisting the baby was halted. So, we checked out, went home and the baby ate a hearty helping of fore and hind milk.

Interestingly enough, this was not a unique situation for the weekend. However, it was a glimpse into what challenges I would face as a new and involved father. I would also contend that as a man, I have been conditioned to not really care about such things, or to overlook the trivial nature of something small like this. Or, was it a small and trivial thing? My daughter is small, but by no means trivial. Though it is clear she could care less where her diaper is changed, just rather that it is changed. So, the discomfort is really mine. I wonder what hygienic rules apply to changing diapers in public? This truly presented a challenge. Challenging that it was, it was easily addressed by finding a corner to ultimately take care of my baby. What if the contents of her diaper or results of her need to relieve herself were more than what the diaper could handle? That might pose a greater need for privacy, or facilities to help in cleaning her up. Maybe I got off lucky for my first public diaper changing. Yet, what does the future hold, if not a lot of diapers? I am revisited by the dryer scene from “Mr. Mom.”

The weekend proved to show several circumstances where having the proper tools to take care of my baby would be helpful, but were not available. However, the weekend also proved that, as a man, I was limited to what extent I could help my wife. I felt stifled, a bit, as my desire to be a contributing partner was diminished by lack of access to adequate places to change my baby’s diaper. I also was in new territory. One that only a few men I know might be able to relate. I know for certain my father would not be able to offer advice, nor my father-in-law; and, even from that point on, the people are numbered. It’s not to say that other men have not had to face these same issues. It is to say that not enough men have had to face these issues to make any change. Further, it might be a situation where maybe men are not taking enough of an active role. I will continue to consider this as I go through the next few days. Nevertheless, regardless of the reason, the facts still remain: it’s a good idea to help your wife and protect your baby from overspray.

by Jon Abelson

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Cycles Of Abuse Can Be Ended

Mon, 07 Mar 2011 12:59:27 +0000

A conversation with a friend of mine recently caused me to look back on my childhood and, once again, marvel at the blessings that I experienced. Both of my parents were in abusive situations growing up, ranging from moderate to severe treatment by their abusers. Statistically, it would be reasonable to expect that my siblings and I would have been treated similarly.

And yet? We weren’t. I was never beaten, or sexually assaulted, or verbally abused. I wasn’t neglected. My parents are still married. I view this as nothing less than miraculous.

Each of my parents consciously chose not to repeat the mistakes that had been committed in their own lives. No….that’s not right. This is better: each of my parents consciously chose not to repeat the evils that had been committed in their own lives. It can’t have been easy for them, and I am proud of what they accomplished.

Were things perfect and rosy? Heck no! They couldn’t have been with all that baggage on my parents’ shoulders. There were problems and broken relationships along the way. We will never be a “normal” family.

But who does manage to be “normal” anyway? Did you grow up in a home that was always happy? Mostly happy? I figure I grew up in a home full of humans who did the best they could with what they had. I can’t ask for more than that, especially when I look around and see so many others suffering in ways I can only shudder to imagine.

I’m living proof that victims of abuse can overcome the evil, defy the statistics, and end the cycle. Even though home life growing up was imperfect, it certainly didn’t rise to the level of abusive. I wonder if there are other people who had a similar experience. Do you know of someone who broke the cycle?

by AmyL

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Chapters Of Passions

Mon, 28 Feb 2011 23:01:29 +0000

I’ve always been aware that “change” is a part of life. Life changes and we can either roll with it or not. The gradual change is the different “chapters” in our lives, starting with childhood, young adult, adult, mature adult, and then there’s the elderly that has so much life experience to share. I have noticed my passions have changed with my chapters so far, and its cool to look back and revisit.

Obviously our childhood years are full of fun, learning, and creating memories. Our childhood and what we’re exposed to is the foundation for our lives. From what I can remember my passion in those years was having fun with those around me and I didn’t worry about the future or even miss the past. I lived in the moment, like most of us do as kids.

In my young adult years my passion was my relationship with those I worked with, with my boyfriend, with my close friends, and especially with family. It was again creating memories as well as deciding the path for my future. So at this point my passion was starting to build on that foundation that we call childhood, and starting the first steps on becoming the woman I wanted to be.

Now in the married adult with children years there are so many passions, and first and foremost is raising my sons and helping them create their foundation. Trying to be the best Mom, Wife, Sister, and Friend I can be, and in order to do that, I still need to be “Me.” So raising my sons is the most important right now, but I know that having my own interests and being a happy Mom is crucial to their happiness. With that said my personal passions for myself is connection with other women, and I’ve done that through selling Longaberger, creating a playgroup, and now blogging.

Yes, you could say that passions in this sense is priorities, but priorities to me means work. Passions are what interest you and they’re something you enjoy doing. I enjoyed my challenging childhood, building on my foundation in my young adult years, being a wife and raising my boys in my prime, and sooo looking forward to what life has to offer in the future. However my passion through all of that is my connections with others, and spending time with those I care about so deeply.

by City Chic On A Farm

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Teeth: A Necessary Evil

Thu, 24 Feb 2011 16:49:52 +0000

When I was a little girl, the frequent visits to the dentist didn’t bother me too much. The laughing gas was fun, at least at first. I didn’t truly appreciate the severity of a cavity or a filling. As I grew into an early teen, I started to dread the dentist and would forgo the laughing gas because it made me sick to my stomach. It wasn’t like I neglected my teeth; I didn’t. Some dentists speculate that there wasn’t enough fluoride in my water. Many of my friends have a lot of fillings too so there could be some truth there.

I obsess about my children’s teeth because I don’t want them to end up with a mouth full of fillings like mine. We brush 2 times per day – sometimes more. We floss their teeth and use kid’s mouthwash everyday. They still have their baby teeth so we truly do not know what their teeth will be like when the adult ones come in. I am praying they have their father’s teeth. Please, please, please!

Visiting the dentist is something I dread, yet I go religiously every 6 months for a cleaning. I cringe when the dentist comes to “check” my teeth. The tension in my body is probably equivalent to a good workout. In the past I have been very trusting of the dentist. If he said I needed to replace one of my old fillings, I scheduled an appointment. Today, I am less trusting. Experience has taught me that replacing old fillings leads to root canals and crowns. No more!

So last night when I was in excruciating pain thanks to a replaced filling I wanted to cry. It hurts so bad, even with ibuprofen, that it was painful to eat hot oatmeal for breakfast. Ugh. I called the dentist today for an appointment. Before they even see me they are predicting that I need a root canal. Seriously? Sometimes I just want to have all of my teeth pulled. It would be so much easier. However, I know this isn’t a viable option and studies say you live longer if you keep your real teeth.

I am at a loss for what else to do to keep my teeth healthy. Brushing, flossing, the water pik and fluoride treatments just don’t seem to be working. I am a believe in the power of positive thought, but how can I convince my teeth they need to be nice to me?

by Kelly Damron

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Forever Parenting Stands With Wisconsin Teachers

Stu Mark — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 22:07:36 +0000

Let’s face facts: The Governor of Wisconsin gave millions of dollars in tax breaks to the wealthy, and is now expecting teachers to pay for the resulting budget deficit by giving up their right to collective bargaining. Is this ok with you? ‘Cause it sure isn’t ok with me.

Teachers are underpaid, education is underfunded, and why? Because the largest block of people effected by this type of penny-pinching are children. Kids don’t have their own lobby. That’s why we all need to support the teachers’ unions, because at the end of the day, they’re looking to make things better for our kids. Sure, teachers may not be perfect all the time, but they’re not asking to be deified. They just want the opportunity to organize and collectively negotiate their salaries and benefits. Isn’t that the least we can do? They’re in service to their country, just like our beloved armed forces. But teachers don’t get near the same respect, and it’s high time each and every parent stepped forward and acknowledged this.

So what say you? As a parent, do you stand with the teachers of Wisconsin?

by Stu Mark

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Natalie Munroe, A Glimpse Into The Mind Of Our Teachers

Stu Mark — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 04:04:04 +0000

As you may or may not have heard, there’s a news story that’s burning up the parenting blogs at the moment. It seems that an English teacher from a Pennsylvania high school kept a blog, where she anonymously commented on a variety of subjects,which included her students. Eventually, just a short time ago, she was outed, and has since come forward and acknowledged that she, Natalie Munroe, is the teacher in question, and that the words from the blog entries are indeed all hers. Once the administration at her school, Central Bucks East High School, read her blog entries, they suspended her. While we may debate the appropriateness of her actions in writing about her students with such candor and such vitriol, the bigger picture here is the dramatically clear window into the mind of a teacher. We need to discuss the underlying issues that are addressed in her uncensored, unfiltered perspective. We need to examine it all, from teachers’ expectations to students’ level of effort to parental involvement. Will we take advantage of this blogger’s shaft of sunlight and use it to disinfect our system as best we can? One can only hope.

Below is a verbatim entry from Natalie Munroe’s blog. Read it with an open mind and see how it makes you feel. Remember, all comments are welcome and appreciated. This is how we move forward, together, through conversation.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

A Big Problem Today

Kids! I don’t know what’s wrong with these kids today!
Kids! Who can understand anything they say?
Kids! They are disobedient, disrespectful oafs.
Noisy, crazy, sloppy, lazy LOAFERS (and while we’re on the subject–)
Kids! You can talk and talk till your face is blue.
Kids! But they still do just what they want to do.
Why can’t they be like we were? (Perfect in every way!!!!)
What’s the matter with kids today?????

My students are out of control. They are rude, disengaged, lazy whiners. They curse, discuss drugs, talk back, argue for grades, complain about everything, fancy themselves entitled to whatever they desire, and are just generally annoying.

In the past week alone, I’ve written up 4 separate students–one for dropping the f-bomb in class, one for repeatedly saying “shittin’,” one for crafting a pencil topper made from paper clips into the shape of a man and woman having sex, and one for being disrespectful to me (Me: Stop tapping. Him: (ignores and keeps on tapping. Another student tells him to stop but he still doesn’t, indicating that if he didn’t stop when I told him to, he wouldn’t stop for this kid either. Another student then kicked the back of the first student’s chair. Me: “I DID tell you to stop that already!” Him: “Yeah, you were ignored.” Me: Do you want me to write you up?” Him: “Go ahead.” Me: “Done!”)

Then there’s the kid in the other class who wasn’t happy with the score he earned on his test. (Nevermind that I told kids what to study in preparation for this test, or that I offered to move the test to Wednesday instead of Tuesday to give them more time to study but they voted to keep it on Tuesday.) So this kid earned a 54% on the test, having lost 2 points for not following directions, 7.5 points for being unable to match the names of charactes and settings with the story names (which is the easiest section on the whole test if you’ve simply read the stories for lan’s sake!), another 10 or so on another section asking him to match definitions to terms… really, the kid just didn’t study enough.

The issue was, though, that his test grade brought his overall grade down significantly (because he had an A, he had farther to fall), from an A to a B. He approached me last Wednesday when I handed back the tests and wanted to know if we did second-chance learning. No, I told him. He wanted to know if he could do some extra credit. No, the English department doesn’t offer extra credit, I told him. On Thursday he approached me to find out how many more points are on the marking period because he wants to be able to pull his grade up by then. I told him the assignments I know I’ll be grading prior to that time. On Friday he emailed me and explained that he was unhappy with his score and again asked for extra credit or a chance to make up his test, citing that he must have been having a bad day and was very upset that his grade dropped so much. He then approached me the same day in class and wanted to discuss the email. I explained again that the test is done and he needs to move forward, just working as hard as he can before the marking period ends to recoup points, but that he could not do other work to make up the grade. On Monday there was an email waiting for me from his mom weighing in on the no extra credit/no retakes policy and intimating that the test was unfairly weighted as it brought her son’s grade down from an A to a B. I responded to that email sharing the information about where he lost points on his test (indicating that he should have studied harder), explaining how it’s unfair to kids prepared the first time around to have an opportunity to make up the points somehow, defending the weight of my test which was 67 points and was the culmination of 3 weeks worth of work, and giving her the heads-up that college courses often base their grades on 2 tests and a paper. Today this boy visited guidance during my class. I’m not positive that it was about this grade issue, but I suspect it may have been. I did not, however, receive any emails from guidance trying to get me to modify my stance, so perhaps it was simply a coincidence. Frankly, I really want the issue to drop because it’s rather annoying me that I’ve had to have the same conversation about this issue as many times as I have. What it comes down to is this: you did poorly on your test for whatever reason; you may end up with a B because of it; move on and try harder next marking period. It really isn’t the end of the world. Maybe the next time I announce a test and give insight into what should be studied, I will be taken more seriously.

Or not.

Yesterday in my honors class I had to deal with different attitude. One of the student desks was missing a chair because it broke. The maintenance dude didn’t replace it in time, so someone must’ve moved my front work-desk chair so she could sit. I realized that my chair was missing, so I told her she’d have to move to another desk when I needed to sit. Someone wanted to know why I didn’t just drag my big teacher-desk chair over and use that. I tried to ignore him, but he pressed on, so I snapped that the chair doesn’t fit under the front desk, that I’m not going to drag it back and forth even if it did, and that he should stop worrying about it. Later in the block the maintenance guy brought a new chair, which I brought back to the girl and traded out for my chair. She said, “Wait–are you seriously switching the chairs? What’s the difference?” I snapped that my name was on my chair, but as I got back to the front of the room, the rude boy who questioned my not moving my other chair said, “Did you just switch the chairs!? Aren’t they, like, the exact same chair?” I said, “The other chair has my name on it and is MY chair, and frankly, I’m tired of your attitude because none of this concerns you and you need to stop talking.” Today, the same kid asked why we were doing a Beowulf activity if we’re reading The Canterbury Tales. I had to explain that we’re working on a translation activity that sets the stage for both units. Jackass. Later, in my basic class, I had to argue with a kid who didn’t see the purpose in copying definitions from the glossary onto a page. He wanted to know why I couldn’t just give them the notes because, apparently, other teachers write notes for them and leave a few blanks and the students only have to fill those in. I told him that I think he can handle copying the definitions without fill-in-the-blank type notes. He said he didn’t learn this way. I explained how, in reading the definitions and copying them, he is taking in the information. By then writing the definitions, he is putting out some information. The process exposes him to the words and their meanings a couple of times and increases the likelihood of retention. He continued to complain.

These are the types of students I deal with on a day to day basis. Something must be done about their disrespect and attitude problems. We should do away with the attitudes of the students (and if we can’t, we should do away with the students who have attitudes.)

Better to have a pet— you know where you stand with a pet.

Posted by Natalie M at 6:47 PM
Labels: bad students, bye bye birdie, school

The above is a verbatim blog entry from Natalie Munroe, and not the opinions of our blog, Forever Parenting. We do feel that this situation is indeed an excellent opportunity to discuss the big picture. What’s your take on the situation?

Raw Chocolate

Thu, 27 Jan 2011 09:01:28 +0000

Sometimes when things sound too good to be true, they are. Our family decided to take a trip up to Sedona, AZ to celebrate the new year. Each year the Los Abrigados resort hosts an event called Sedona’s Red Rock Fantasy, a holiday lights display. We were looking to get out of town and still enjoy the spirit of the holidays. We took our girls last year and they had a great time.

While our daughters where having a great time destroying the hotel beds by jumping back and forth between the two, I picked up the local magazine which had a featured article on chocolate. Being a terrible chocolate junkie, I was curious as to who had the best chocolate in town. Opting to try something different I focused on the two bakeries that offered raw chocolate. I had heard of good-for-you (and raw) chocolate, specifically Chava Chocolate, and was curious about it.

According to the article raw chocolate is full of antioxidants. Awesome! Antioxidants are great for the skin and have so many other health benefits. And raw chocolate does not have caffeine. Caffeine is introduced to chocolate when it is heated. Me and caffeine are not the best of friends so chocolate without caffeine would be heaven (or so I thought). I started contemplating how I could get my husband to take a drive to get some of this chocolate.

Without much of a fuss he agreed to check out the chocolate shop. The flavors were interesting (which should have been a huge red flag). We picked out about 10 pieces of chocolate. The total was $22; each piece of chocolate (the size of a bite size candy bar like the ones you get for Halloween) were $1.99 each! As we left the store my husband looked at me and said, “That better be some good chocolate.”

It’s not. The chocolate tastes horrible. My dreams of antioxidants and caffeine free chocolate were crushed with one bite of the raw chocolate. That is not to say that all raw chocolate is bad. I’m sure some of it does taste okay or even good. But not the stuff we bought. Oh well. I’m working on finishing the bag as I promised my husband I would. Next time I will ask for a sample before I buy too much of a good (or bad) thing. What have you purchased recently that you thought would be wonderful and it wasn’t?

by Kelly Damron

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Teaching Appreciation

Wed, 26 Jan 2011 09:06:23 +0000

One of the life skills we all want to teach our kids is none other than “appreciation.” We start with drilling “thank you” into their heads as soon as they can start talking, we remind them on a regular basis how fortunate and blessed they are with the things they have, and in the end, we hope we’ve raised a respectful and appreciative person when the rearing years are over.

Before we had kids, hubby and I did it to each other without even knowing it… appreciation for the other, that is. I lived on my own for 7 years before we got married, and his was 8 months (better than nothing). We did our own laundry, worked full time, and took turns cooking.

After all those years, now came the time for roles to change after our first son was born. I became a stay-at-home Mom and my appreciation comes when he gets up for work to support the family. I know what that’s like since I worked for 11 years before our son was born. I totally appreciate his hard work.

The laundry, however, is another story. I should do his laundry since it’s really part of my wifely duty, but I’ve chosen not to. Due to that decision, he does appreciate it more when I do pitch in and help him. Bingo!!

For some reason laundry is the center of this post, and I didn’t mean for it to be. Oh well.

Now my boys are 5, 7, & 9. All old enough to fold and put their clothes away as far as I’m concerned. So the past year I’ve washed and dried their laundry and occasionally when they got home from school there was a pile on the floor to sort, fold, and put away. Needless to say they were none to happy about it, but did it anyway.

For the first time after a year I took the time to wash, dry, sort, and fold their laundry. Each had a basket full of folded clothes to put away when they got home. I was caught off guard by their reaction, which was . . “Thanks Mom!!” The “thanks Mom” came from realizing how much work it is and that I did a majority of it for them. Hum I taught a lesson in appreciation and didn’t even plan it!

I wonder what other tricks I can come up with and get the same reaction, as well as a sigh that I did a good job as a Mom.

by City Chic On A Farm

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Balancing Media Is Possible

Mon, 24 Jan 2011 11:18:29 +0000

Saturday night, Hubby and I invited the older boys to stay up with us and watch the movie “Iron Man.” When it came out, we didn’t choose to let them watch it; they’ve been campaigning to see it for quite some time. There is the issue of the younger boys though. They’re most definitely not ready for the, ummmmm, romance near the beginning. Some of the violence is more than we are comfortable with for them as well.

It’s been a bit of a sore point with the older kids. They want to be able to see some of the “cooler” movies without being slowed down by their younger siblings. We want to shield all of them from the rougher stuff, and most definitely feel the need to restrict what the younger boys see. At the same time, we don’t want resentment to build and cause the older boys to take frustration out on the others.

What they don’t see, of course, is the whole picture. When they were little, we watched all the kids’ shows: Barney, Blue’s Clues, and Dora the Explorer were all the rage. By the time the younger ones were old enough to care, the big guys had moved on to other entertainment. They compromised with Barney for a while, but many shows were deemed uncool and therefore unwatchable. The younger boys, interested in being just like the big kids, didn’t complain.

So they’ve all been accustomed to watching the same television shows all this time. If we go out for a family movie it has to be appropriate for all viewers. This is as it should be, and I don’t apologize for that.

So doing something different was a little concerning. Hubby handled it by being very sweet but definite in advance. He spoke to the older boys separately, letting them when we’d be watching the movie. He emphasized the need for them to stay calm about the whole thing. In return the boys were admirable and while they did talk about the upcoming treat in front of their brothers, they didn’t appear to rub salt into any wounds.

Hubby also talked to the younger boys and explained that this movie wasn’t geared for them. He gave them the option of staying up past their bedtime as long as they played nicely in their room. They were very sweet about the whole thing. Plus they’re going to be able to have a special movie sometime soon. The trick will be to choose something the older ones won’t mind missing.

I suggested Care Bears and then Barbie before they figured out I was teasing. At least, they think I was. I do believe I’ll rent something really pink and girly just to get the laugh. A mom’s gotta have fun too, right?

by AmyL

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Involved In Your Child’s Schooling? Let’s Lower The Bar

Wed, 19 Jan 2011 15:57:27 +0000

While listening to the radio after dropping the kids off at school a few weeks back, I heard a group of city and school officials for the major metropolitan area in which I live talking about parents involvement in their children’s education. They all unanimously said that the biggest factor in the success of children in school was parental involvement.

I immediately perked up and listened. I have tried to be involved with my children’s schooling since they were babies in the on-sight daycare center here at work. I joined every volunteer group the daycare had, and have sat on the board of directors (it’s a not-for-profit facility and the board handles the books) for almost as many years as my children have been enrolled.

Now that my son (and next year my daughter) are off to elementary school, I have tried to volunteer my time there as well. I am in my second year of serving on the Principal’s Advisory Council, made of up parents from each of the grades, and I have been offering my help to the computer teacher as she tries to come up with a plan for upgrading the school’s computers without breaking the budget.

Every night, I sit down with my children and go through their homework. I check every paper as they do them, and review all of the papers that come home. We read a book at night before lights out and kiss goodnight.

Just about every minute I spend with them is involved, either directly or indirectly, with helping them learn.

But you know what? The panel of officials on the radio that day set the bar of parent involvement a little lower than that. To them, they were hoping that parents would get involved by making sure their children went to school; making sure they’d eaten breakfast; packing them a lunch. If the parent would actually spend time with their child doing homework, that was a bonus, and none of them even mentioned reading at bedtime.

My point is, being involved doesn’t mean overachieving, it just means spending time, how ever much time you have. These education experts said that just having a parent who cared whether or not they were in school helped motivate these kids to be there and to learn.

So, never underestimate how very much your attention can help, but also, don’t get discouraged if you can’t be room-mom, or lunch-dad, or if you work full-time and can’t spend the time during the day at your child’s school, though you might like to. Each and every minute you spend, being involved and interested in what your children do, matters. Each and every minute.

by Rocket Science Mom

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How Holidays Change

Whitney Hoffman — Thu, 13 Jan 2011 19:06:39 +0000

This holiday season felt different than most. I felt busier. The kids are older, and their wants are fewer but sometimes larger- for example, we capitulated on cell phones this year. There were less bikes and toys under the tree- we’ve largely outgrown Toys R’ Us and instead the gifts came by mail from places like Think Geek and Abercrombie and Fitch. We also have one set of grandparents here who are starting down the trail of declining health, making this Christmas one of those you fear may be the last of its kind.

Instead of being woken up at the crack of dawn by shiny faces full of so much excitement they seem to be ready to explode, the kids gradually got up, got the dog and joined us for a big family pile in bed before heading off to wash and change. We waited on relatives, and kids were patient. Dinner prep was done, and all was on hold. A light snow had just begun to fall, and life was well and quiet.

This was such a different Christmas for us. Not better or worse than any other, just different. The family is growing up and changing. It’s clear that the Grandparents may not be around forever, making each moment important and memorable. The pace is slower, but less chaotic, and less exhausting than the pressure and expectation set with other holidays past.

I like it, but I also kind of miss the eager shining faces and the energy you just wanted to capture and bottle. I’m secretly looking forward to grandkids and those early mornings again with faces just exploding with excitement. I don’t want to be those old people who say – we’ll get there when we get there- I want to be the person who’s secretly waiting for the kids to get up and egg them on in their excitement.

Finding that unbridled joy becomes a bit more difficult as we get older-all of us, even the kids, are a bit less easy to please. But that passion for the newness of it all- not just the gifts, but the fun and abandon- that’s what I need more of, and I know this year, I’m going to try to find more of that in our lives- beyond the holidays, beyond the birthdays- just in every day life.

We need that fun and energy and joy, and we need it without an excuse or reason.

Where will you find it? I’ll let you know where we find it over the next year.

by Whitney Hoffman

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The Meaning Of A Child’s Affection

Wed, 12 Jan 2011 15:18:58 +0000

From my experience, all children love their parents unconditionally, but liking them is a whole other story. Granted most children go through the normal behavior stages, where their parents are their world, to not wanting anything to do with them, and then coming back around after the teenage years. A child’s affection of which I speak is something much deeper than that, it’s feedback to how you’re doing as a parent.

Now that I’m a parent I second guess my parenting skills just like any other parent, because my guidance is their foundation. The way I parent and love them has a huge impact on the rest of their lives.

Usually we look outward to family or friends for a reality check to see how we’re doing, by watching their parenting and compare it to how we’re doing, and sometimes we get positive or negative feedback in one form or another too. Either way, our goal is to see if we’re doing right by our kids. Did you ever think, though, that the feedback is right under your nose, literally?

Just like AmyL said in her post, “Kids will tell you how you’re doing as a parent.” That really hit home for me. I get random hugs from my boys that melt my heart, but I never thought that it was more than just an “I Love You Mom’ until now. Now that I think about it, it’s also feedback to how I love, respect, and parent them too. Wow!

Growing up with a Mom who tore me down constantly, I always loved her, but didn’t really like her. I never felt the need or want to give her a hug to show her affection, which is so sad. That speaks volumes to the job I thought she was doing from my young heart.

So with this new insight I’m going to look at my son’s affection with much more meaning, because that’s so much more than an “I Love You Mom,” it’s a “Way to Go Mom” too!

by City Chic On A Farm

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I’m Ready to Learn how to Text

Mon, 10 Jan 2011 09:41:25 +0000

I think my older boys (age 12) have wanted a cell phone for 5 years already. Most of their friends carry phones, and I hear about that fact often. I’m happy to provide a phone when they need one, but I’ve resisted all these years because of expense, the fact that it’s not a need, and a bit of concern over all those reports that the radiation from cell phones may be harmful especially to younger humans.

It’s not like the boys talk on the regular phone. I think they’ve called a friend to chat all of one time in their lives. They occasionally talk to grandparents, and they’ll answer when I call if I’m out. But that’s about it. Why should we add two (and eventually 4) more phones to the bill? I’ve been very content with keeping the bill as low as possible, and have thus far stuck with a simple phone that could take and receive calls. I’ve sent a text message or two, but only because I absolutely had to. Because we don’t have a text option on the cell phone plan-see above note about me wanting to keep things simple and cheap-we have to pay quite a bit per text.

Now that the older boys are playing on sports teams that travel and practice further from home, Hubby and I agreed that providing a phone was a good plan. I found one on sale and gave it to them for Christmas. The Mercenary also took advantage of holiday deals to buy himself an ipod, and quickly got himself a Skype account and taught himself how to thumb type.

At Hubby’s insistence I upgraded to a smartphone last month. It has already been proven useful in several cases; whether it was communicating easily on the road or digging up information online or keeping up with various notifications, I’m enjoying the phone. I still hadn’t texted though.

Then last week I was driving home when my phone chirped. Surprised, I found that my boy had sent a text message from his ipod. I stopped to read the message. It was long, cheerful, and he’d taken the time to type it all out for me. How cool was that?? It may be silly that a little message warmed my heart so much, but that’s okay. Having your kid take the time to think about you and send a little cheery note is a big deal.

I want more. I told Hubby that we have to add text messaging to our cell phone plan. He was pretty surprised to hear that from me of all people. Don’t tell my boys, but I’ll happily pay money to communicate with them so easily.

Now I’m going to have to figure out how to send texts on my phone. 6UXA8SFT3RWT

by AmyL

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The Voice of Reason

Thu, 06 Jan 2011 21:54:49 +0000

For most of my life I have been one of those people who says what they mean. Sometimes I considered what other people would think or say and sometimes I did not. It was no secret if I did not like you because I was comfortable letting you know that I didn’t. The truth was you didn’t like me either so why pretend? What is interesting about my demeanor is that I was/am a very kind, open and loving person. I just didn’t like to pretend everything was good when it clearly was not. Unfortunately, an “open” policy is not the best or easiest way to get through life.

After my girls were born I started working on making my internal person become more in line with my exterior shell. I no longer say it like I really want too (oh I do in my head), but instead I make calculated decision about what I say, when I say it and to whom. The “new” me is due to many hours in counseling and the help of some amazing books in addition due to maturity thanks to growing older. I have had to process some ugly things from my past and getting rid of those skeletons has really helped mellow me out.

With my husband I tend to be the voice of reason. I’ll offer him some advice and he’ll be quiet. He will often admit that my perspective or advice is sound, but that he will choose not to follow it. The other night I told him he had a choice, you can do this or you can do that. He admitted that he knew he had a choice. I’m making progress on him, but don’t let him know that. The other day he actually repeated something I said to his father. It was all I could do not to point out that it was the same advice I had given him, nah, better to let him think he came up with them all on his own.

Right now I do not feel like the voice of reason because I am very upset about something and I ranted to my husband; something I have not done in months. He laughed when I noted that I know better than to rant and to let the matter upset me. Yet, he is upset about the same thing too so he thinks my rant is on point and totally funny.

I have an idealistic expectation to always be the voice of reason. I feel like I should not let anything bother me. As we all know, that would be unrealistic because we are all way too emotionally to reason through everything. Truly for the past 6 -12 months have been able to process and let go of issues that might have otherwise upset me. So I ask myself, why does this issue bother me so much? Why can’t I just let it go? We’ll the truth is, I can. I just have to choose to do so.

We all have a choice. I wish other people could see they have choices too. Not everyone wants to accept or embrace the choices in front of them. Staying in victim mode or continuing the conflict does not give you real power, only perceived power. If only they knew the real power is in the choice to let go, they would be so much happier. And I feel better now too since I have made the decision to move on and not let this issue bother me any more.

by Kelly Damron

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Earn Trust By Never Doing Anything For Your Children

Mon, 03 Jan 2011 13:26:01 +0000

If you’ve already been through the toddler stages with one or more children, then you’re quite familiar with the “All By Myself!!!” obsession tendency of that age. The one thing they want in life is to be able to complete whatever challenge lays before them, and they want to do it independently.

That urge for independence doesn’t just pass away; rather it’s a driving (and necessary) force all throughout life. As parents, we often find that it’s easier to do a task ourselves than to spend time teaching the children how to do it. After all, they’ll learn when they’re older, right?

The problem is, when we take over something and do it ourselves instead of letting the children do it, we’re robbing them of an opportunity for growth. It doesn’t take children long to figure out that asking an adult for help can quickly turn into a lost opportunity, so they stop asking. Then when the parent notices their kid having trouble and steps in to help the child may actually resist. From there it’s very easy to get into a power struggle and ultimately damage the parent-child relationship. Do this long enough and you’ll see a pretty substantial break in the relationship. Not good.

For me personally, efficiency is a big deal, and stopping to wait for a boy to figure out how to open a jar or complete some other task is difficult (verging on frustrating). But I owe it to my children to be a better person, so I’ve been training myself to handle this challenge differently. First, I put my hands behind my back. (This is very important.) Then I ask if they want to learn a trick that would make the job easier, or do they want to keep working alone. It’s even more important to respect their answer to this question. If they say no, I keep my hands where they are and shut. up.

If I’m given the go-ahead to show the trick, I am then allowed to pick up whatever tool they’re using and I always say, “I’m just going to show you, I’m NOT going to actually do this.” Then I demonstrate the task, hand back the tools, and put my hands behind my back again. Once they complete the task, I offer praise. My current favorite phrase is “Good work, man!!”

Last week the younger boys and I were making cookies. Getting the sugar measured out accurately was giving them fits, so I asked permission (with my hands behind my back) to show them a trick. When they said yes, I got out a wide bowl and set the measuring cup in it. Then I showed them how to fill the cup with a large spoon and how to level off the cup by scraping across the mounded sugar with a butter knife. After that, I explained that we could dump any spilled sugar back into the main container without touching it. Then I put all the sugar back, set the tools in place for them and let them actually measure the sugar out themselves. If I had measured the sugar into the bowl for them and assumed they could do the job “next time” I would have lost a lot of trust.

By repeating this strategy over and over and over, I’m seeing them trust me to give them strategies and suggestions without overpowering them or robbing them of any opportunities. I’m seeing them give me more opportunities to teach, and we’re all growing closer as result.

by AmyL

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Walking On Eggshells

Wed, 29 Dec 2010 14:20:58 +0000

I’ve come to the realization lately that when I’m “walking on eggshells” around someone it’s my indication that they are depressed and there’s a chemical imbalance going on. However, with my sensitive personality I internalize the bad behavior that comes my way thinking that I deserve it.

I grew up with a Mom who was struggling with many things in her heart and mind. Unfortunately she took that pain out on me, since my Dad would hide at work to avoid it. So “walking on eggshells” is something I grew up with, and when you’re treated badly by a parent the child takes it to heart.

I spent 7 years supporting myself prior to getting married and in that time received counseling, and worked on my self esteem/confidence/worth. With not only the help of counseling, but also chatting with family members, I learned that I didn’t deserve the anger that was thrown my way and it’s wasn’t my fault.

Now years later I have found myself in the same situation where my feet are sore from eggshells once again. One would think the counseling I received would better prepare me for my future if a loved one around me is struggling with a chemical imbalance, but it didn’t until now.

Recently that loved one had an anxiety attack, went to the ER, and is now on anxiety medication and my world is at peace again, I’m comfortable, and less stressed. I’m oh so thankful that the person was willing to get help and realize there was an imbalance.

I know realize when the eggshells are all over my floors again means that someone around me is struggling and I need to step up and help them. I hope someone would do the same if I’m depressed, because I know oh to well how it could effect my boys and they deserve nothing than 100% from me and if I’m depressed then they are cheated.

Please take the time to read Nan’s post “Owning Our Depression,” and take her advice. After reading it inspired me to write this one.

by City Chic On A Farm

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Kids Will Tell You How You’re Doing as a Parent

Mon, 27 Dec 2010 15:46:29 +0000

The Mercenary hugged me today. In fact, he’s done it twice in the past few days.

I don’t mean the expected hugs like the ones we get at bedtime. He actually walked over to me and put his arms around my shoulders and hung on me for a few minutes. When I reached around and squeezed his middle, he squeezed me back. How cool is that??

He’s 12, by the way.

He hasn’t been volunteering hugs much lately. Even the bedtime hugs have been rather perfunctory.

I’ve been working super hard lately at being more positive, especially with the boys. The concept is simple really: listen to chatter and respond, praise successes, and handle problems with an calm exterior.

If it’s just a case of correcting a mistake or even dealing with actual disobedience, maintaining my desired parental behavior is pretty easy. When things get heated between the boys and arguments swell up and tempers flare faster than I can get anyone’s attention, then it’s a lot harder to not get frustrated.

The realization that it’s easier to switch from a correcting tone to a praising one with the dog than the boys was a sobering moment. In my defense, I can talk to the dog the way I would with a two-year-old child. If I did that with the boys they’d be offended. And yes, I know this after performing an experiment to find out, purely for scientific research; no humor was involved

Both Hubby and I have been trying to show the boys that we’re treating them with the respect we want to see in return. As the older ones move closer and closer to adulthood I think they’re starting to see how much we truly do enjoy them. It’s nice to feel like we’re on the right track for now.

by AmyL

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A New Pet

Thu, 23 Dec 2010 09:15:54 +0000

My daughters are begging for a new pet. Specifically they want a kitten. My husband does not. We promised them we would get a pet when they turned six. They have been six for two months and my husband has somehow been able to drag his feet and we have yet to get a pet.

I was about my girls’ age when we got a kitten. We had a dog, but he was my brother’s pet (at least until he graduated and moved). The cat, Zeke, was mine. Based on my experience, I think that six is a decent age for a pet. I was able to take care of the cat and treat it nicely.

Last week we read a book about a boy who wanted to get a puppy but his sister wanted a cat. The family was having a meeting to vote on the new pet. The parents both voted for a cat so the boy was conspiring how to convince his dad to change his mind. But fate placed a box of kittens outside the grocery store and his sister got the cat she wanted. The sister was a little too young for the cat as she would squeeze it too hard. My girls and I talked a lot about how to hold and treat a kitten or puppy.

I told my husband that he needs to get on board as it is time for our girls to experience what it is like to have a pet. I decided to wait until after the holidays because a kitten and a Christmas tree are not a good combination. I recommended that we hold a vote. My husband stated his should count for four votes. Sorry Charlie.

My hubby and I talked about how much work a dog would be. He thinks that I should be responsible for walking the dog and getting the girls ready and to school every day. Ah no. It would be great if my husband would accept that his children want a pet and come to terms with the fact that it is a cat. If not, come January it is possible he may find a kitten running around our house one day when he comes home from work.

by Kelly Damron

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Overspending

Thu, 16 Dec 2010 15:10:24 +0000

This is my favorite time of year. I love the decorations, the lights and the holiday spirit. This year I am feeling a little guilty I have carried on the tradition of the Santa “lie.” In some regards I have been preparing my children by using the term “legend” whenever I speak of Santa or the magic of Christmas. For example, legend has it that Santa and his elves live in the North Pole. Or legend has it that the Elf on the Shelf (TM) only flies at night when no one can see him. Hopefully we still have a few years left of them believing in the magic of the season.

For some reasons this year I have found myself shopping more than ever. I have found some amazing deals. I am sure I have purchased more than enough stuff that my family isn’t going to want, although it is super cute. Many of them are not going to be excited about the book they are ALL getting as a gift from me. I’m sure there will be some rolling of the eyes or the “she is crazy” conversation behind my back. But is all good, they need this book!

I tend to spend a lot of money on my mom for Christmas. Some years I am better at managing the gift-giving than others. This year is not one of them. She is getting some really great stuff, some of which she really needs. There are a few items on her list that I didn’t get and I am tempted to run out to buy them, but as of right now I am controlling the urge. I have done a fair amount of shopping for my in-laws too. This year I did the shopping on behalf of my husband as he doesn’t have the time so I was able to push a few of my ideas.

It is so expensive to mail stuff so I am going to limit my mailing of goodies this year. Which means some of my friends will, hopefully, be disappointed they are not getting fudge or magic cookie bars. Gotta cut back somewhere. Smile.

What about you? Are you spending more this year or less than you did last year?

by Kelly Damron

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Networking For The Family

Wed, 15 Dec 2010 15:00:59 +0000

In our quest to find a home to raise our family, while I was in my last term of pregnancy, we found the perfect place, where my husband could farm and I could enjoy a nearby lake in the summer with our kids. Once we moved in, I knew my challenge of being a good Mom, parent, and Wife was upon me.

While my husband was off at work, I took care of my son as well as the household chores, but I also knew I needed to get to know people in the community. I knew the more people that knew us, the more eyes we would have on our kids to keep them safe. I began this quest by attending the local library where Storytime was held, enrolling my son in preschool for two years, and volunteering at the preschool.

Since my husband and I chose to have our kids educated by the public school system, we think it’s very important to be involved as much as possible, which is also a way to achieve our goal of keeping or kids safe. Thankfully, our county is small, and the class sizes are a fifth of what mine was in a suburban school system. We felt comfortable.

Our family was complete by the time my oldest son finished his two years of preschool, and he was off to Kindergarten. Now it was time to plug in and get to know the people he was spending his day with, as well as begin the Storytime & Preschool years with the other two.

By getting to know the teacher on both a professional and personal level, I believe it helped her understand the environment our son came from and how best to teach him, and it allowed me to learn her teaching style as well as her expectations of her students. In order to do this I volunteered once a week, and that time not only allowed me to get to know the teacher, but also spend time with my son’s classmates.

Time with each child allowed me to get to know them and their personalities. In my eyes, the benefits of those connections allows me insight if my son happens to struggle with one of them, or even bond with one of them. Furthermore, I truly believe that if his classmates know me, he is less likely to be bullied. Make sense?

The connections with the teachers has also been very beneficial when my second son started school as well. Thankfully, he’s gotten the same teachers in Kindergarten and 1st grade just like is brother, and for that I’m not only thankful, but also, already knowing the teachers is very beneficial.

By spending the time volunteering, the other staff in the school know who I am and who my boys are as well. When I call in for any reason, the secretaries know who I am and know the classes my boys are in without reminders. The Principal calls my boys by name, and when I’ve had a specific request, she’s more than accommodating, due to my volunteering. Oh, and we can’t forget the special teachers, such as Music, Art, Librarian, and Gym, or even the Janitors, Cafeteria Ladies, Nurses, etc. Knowing all these people is important too!

Obviously, school isn’t the only place to connect with others in the community. There’s also Boy Scouts (for us), 4H (due to living in a farm community), as well as many, many sports. Getting to know the coaches and chatting with the parents at practices & games is key.

I guess you would call this networking that benefits the health and safety of the family. Whatever it’s called, it’s working for us so far and the connections we’ve made are nothing but a blessing.

by City Chic On A Farm

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Keeping The Santa Myth Alive

Tue, 14 Dec 2010 14:47:54 +0000

I absolutely love the Christmas Holiday. The magic always gets me. And yes, I lied to my kids and told them that Santa was totally real… Until they came to me, one by one, and made it clear that they were too old for that nonsense.
“Okay,” I would sigh, “But don’t spoil it for the little ones, alright?”

It brought tears to my eyes to hear my eldest whisper to my youngest, “Of COURSE Santa is real!” But youngest children are too wise for that, and learn early on that any information your big brother gives you is likely to be seriously flawed.

They probably kept the Santa Myth going for as long as they did just to humour their parents: Sean and I would be creeping about with heavily disguised packages; large boxes would appear on the tops of cupboards; we’d cry, “Don’t go in there! Um, Dad’s… Gluing something, and the, you know, smell… isn’t good for kids!”

The three boys would go off, sighing, “Oh, let them have their fun… They’re so sweet at Christmas time, aren’t they?” They would look on fondly as their ninja-parents walked nonchalantly by with a bicycle-shaped bin bag.

It will probably mean years of therapy later on, with an earnest doctor explaining to me that my lying to the children has damaged their fragile sense of reality.

But it was worth it!

by Nan Sheppard

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Sometimes I Wonder How They'll Make It To Adulthood

Mon, 13 Dec 2010 13:10:28 +0000

Boys. They’re going to be the death of me yet. Or maybe themselves. I don’t know.

We have a concrete retaining wall that juts out from the back of the house, directly underneath the sliding glass door that still doesn’t lead out to a deck. (Maybe next year it will.) Since the wall is exposed, it’s a prime stunt spot for the boys. One side of it has earth up to nearly the top, but on the other side there’s a 3 or 4 foot drop depending on where you are along the wall.

I suppose if I were a boy, jumping off a wall would be attractive to me too.

But I’m not a boy.

I’m a mom, and I happen to be a mom who suffered a massive knee injury 9 months ago. So the reality of what a split second accident can do to your life is still pretty fresh. My anxiety might have something to do with the brace I’m still using to try and rehab the knee. But every time I see them jumping near that wall I just shudder.

If you have boys, then you’re familiar with what happens whenever they start performing stunts. As soon as the trick is perfected, they come up with a twist. And not just any twist. It has to be harder and more impressive than what they did first. The one-upmanship continues from there, and it doesn’t take long for creativity and bravado to turn into sheer foolishness. Ever watched America’s Funniest Home Videos? I’ve not done a formal study but I bet the vast majority of males who make it on that show got there by one-upping themselves right into disaster.

We’ve made it twelve and a half years into this parenting gig without many trips to the hospital (except for me. go figure), but the increasing intensity of their tricks has me thinking that won’t hold forever. This summer the big battle was getting the boys to wear helmets. Something that’s been required all their lives is suddenly up for negotiation? I don’t think so.

My appreciation for the mothers of all the stuntmen in the world deepens daily.

by AmyL

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Feeling All Christmas-y

Whitney Hoffman — Thu, 09 Dec 2010 18:32:19 +0000

Today, I felt a little Scrooge-y. I let my husband take the kids to go get our Christmas tree, while I stayed home and took care of work. I was looking at the holidays as a series of chores, not as a time of joy and reflection. My 12 year old came home, wearing a Santa’s hat and literally almost too excited to contain himself at the idea of putting up decorations and chewing on a candy cane. His enthusiasm was contagious.

He had a friend come over, and all together, we put up the lights and ornaments. Each ornament brought back memories of the ones we’ve gotten as gifts; ones the kids have made as art projects over the years, ones that have marked special trips we’ve done, one from one of my husband’s patients… These ornaments tell a story of our lives and of our life as a family. The ornaments remind us of our friends, former neighbors, and even our dog who passed away a few years ago. They serve as memories, and as markers of time passing.

One ornament we’ve had for years was of an alligator playing a sax. It turns out this friend in a sax player, and loves alligators, so giving this boy an ornament to take home seemed like the perfect thing to do. It made me feel all Christmasy inside, sharing our lives with someone else and making the process of decorating a real journey down memory lane.

I guess I’m being reminded of what the holidays are really all about: sharing, and spending time with those we care about. It’s about doing something for others, just because, not just out of obligation. That’s what I love about the holidays, and this year, I needed a kid to remind me of what was most important.

The holidays are looking up for me again- something to be savored rather than endured.

How do you find your holiday spirit?

by Whitney Hoffman

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Acts of Kindness

Thu, 09 Dec 2010 09:33:44 +0000

This past week I was told that I was really paying it forward for a couple of acts of kindness. A few acts so simple, yet they left an impression with a friend of mine. What I did was nothing extraordinary and truly they were so easy that I didn’t think anything of them after they occurred.

So what did I do? I offered to help a little girl wash her hands while her mom was busy changing her sibling’s diaper. The poor mom kept peaking around the corner as there was a wall between the changing station and the sinks. As a mom of twins I had sympathy for the woman as she was trying to keep track of one kid while dealing with the other. Oh how I can relate! Then I helped another woman find her daughter who was moving through a line that wound through rooms. It was pure luck that I recalled seeing them together and so it was simple to help the mom when I noticed she was frantically looking for her child. And last, I picked up a box of tissues that had fallen for a woman in a motorized wheelchair.

These little acts were so simple. Why I am comfortable offering assistance to someone I don’t even know? I assume other people do it too or don’t they? I truly don’t know. I don’t go around looking for ways to help others, they just occur. I don’t think that I am “in” other peoples business – such that I am watching them or analyzing their situations. It just happens.

When we stopped at a rest stop on the way home from our trip to Disneyland, there was a homeless couple sitting near the bathrooms. As I approached the bathroom I considered going back to the car for money or some food. However, I didn’t.

According to Wikipedia, “The expression “pay it forward” is used to describe the concept of asking that a good turn be repaid by having it done to others instead.” Acts of kindness do not make me a better person. However, they do make me feel good about myself. Consider a simple act you can do this holiday season to make someone’s day a little brighter.

by Kelly Damron

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Elizabeth Edwards: The Parent I Want To Be

Wed, 08 Dec 2010 17:22:27 +0000

It was with heavy heart that I heard the news two days ago that Elizabeth Edwards was losing her battle with Cancer. The news links all said she had months, maybe weeks to live. I knew that they wouldn’t be reporting it if it were that long. Our media doesn’t have that sort of patience. I knew that if they were reporting it, Elizabeth had days.

I was right.

Yesterday, one of the women I have grown to look up to left us. She is no longer in pain. There will be no more chemo, no more medications or doctors visits or days where her body just felt lousy. But there are also children who miss their mother and will miss her for the rest of their lives. My prayers of strength of heart and soul go out to them.

When I read of Elizabeth’s breast cancer, it struck a chord with me. I waited a while to have my children, and there is always a fear in the back of my mind, that I will not be around for all of those big moments: graduation from college, marriage, grandchildren. My own father died young and wasn’t around for some of my big moments. He saw me graduate college and graduate school, but left this world before my wedding and the birth of my children. It would break my heart to leave my children under any circumstances, and I watched with awe as Elizabeth Edwards seemed to handle her cancer with grace, dignity and hope. She faced death, and she helped her children to face it to. She was strong, but that is almost not a strong enough word for the fortitude she demonstrated as a parent.

I want to be an amazing parent. To not just make sure my kids eat enough, but to help shape and guide them to become the absolute best they can be. To love them unconditionally and instill in them the sense of self I already have of them. Every day I set my own personal bar high. As an outsider looking in, I believe that Elizabeth did too, and she reached that bar every day and in every way she lived loving her children.

As time fills in the wounds of missing their mother, her children will always know in their hearts that she loved them more than anything else. I hope that they will also know, they were blessed with sharing the world with a wonderful human being.

We all were.

Rest in peace Elizabeth. You showed many people how to live. For that I am personally very grateful.

by Rocket Science Mom

Photo graciously provided through the Fair Use Doctrine, some rights reserved

Christmas – Getting To Play With Toys All Over Again

Tue, 07 Dec 2010 13:29:12 +0000

One of the best things about having my babies was getting to play with TOYS all over again! I spent many a happy morning, building block towers so that my sons could knock them over again; creating towns with train tracks, fields and herds of domestic dinosaurs. In December we would build a crèche using toy animals. By Christmas Eve night, the crèche had become O Sprawling Metropolis of Bethlehem with many villages, fields and animals galore.

“Umm, maybe not the dinosaurs,” I would say. “But MUMMY, Baby Jesus loves ALL the animals.”

“Oh! I see…”

So much for my tasteful nativity scene!

Creative play is important. We know this. Given a heap of blocks and a few wooden or plastic animals, kids will make an imaginary world come to life. Add a cardboard box or two for hours of entertainment. You can join in the fun, if you’re feeling extra-creative!

Wood vs. Plastic:

Wooden toys far surpass plastic for sheer toughness. Our wooden toys withstood heavy use… The plastic toys ended up in the bin. Environmentally and financially, wooden toys get an A+.

Don’t Get Carried Away…

It’s tempting to buy everything in the store! But really, less is more. Investing in a few good quality toys will sound like very good sense if you happen to step on a broken piece of cheap plastic toy in the night. A recent poll found that children only play with five percent of their toys… Think of all that money spent on stuff that will lurk at the bottom of the toybox, unused. Usually, the latest flashy toy will be played with once and the ones that have been around for generations will entertain your kids for years to come. Good quality toys are recyclable too: Our wooden blocks and train tracks have been handed down to happy little cousins, even after being bashed, crashed and loved to death by my three boys!

Our All Time Favourites:

Wooden Blocks

Dress-up clothes

Sets of animals and people, farms and buildings

Matchbox and Hot Wheels Cars

Cardboard boxes, glue, crayons and bits of paper

Musical and percussion instruments

Bath toys

Lego

Books

Board games

A Teddy Bear!

by Nan Sheppard

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Use Catch Phrases And Calm To Manage Tough Moments

Mon, 06 Dec 2010 13:56:53 +0000

One of the most important facets of the Love and Logic technique is empathizing with children when they get into difficulty. I will openly admit that this has been difficult for me to pull off, because I too quickly end up sounding sarcastic or insincere. That pretty much ruins what I’m trying to accomplish and over the years I’ve given up in frustration more often than succeeding.

The good people at Love and Logic suggest saying something like, “Bummer!” or “Oh dear.” Find a phrase that works well with your own personality and use it all the time. This for some reason was hard to do, and I’ve tried a few different ideas out over the years but nothing has really fit. “Bummer” or “Oh dear” just aren’t quite a perfect fit for us.

Tonight though, I think I hit on what will work for both me and the kids. It’ll run something along the lines of “Oh man! That looks really difficult.” or perhaps “Dude! That’s a tough one.”

There’s more to the equation than just using the right words though. I think that not being angry is a big part of the success that Love and Logic parents enjoy. For me personally, getting to that point? Not so easy. And while I’ve attained a degree of calm in my life for now, there’s no guarantee that I won’t relapse into an angry fit here and there. (I just keep trying; and letting go of things that annoy.)

It’s not completely clear why I’m handling things with more calm than in the past. Perhaps I’m finally growing up. Well. Sort of. I hope to continue to be annoying in my children’s eyes young at heart for many years to come.

I bought an iPod last year and it has been quite popular with the children. I also bought a case for it, because keeping my possessions in mint condition is a value. Not so for the boys. They’ve been taking it out of the case and it is now scratched. On top of that, it’s common to find the battery run down or they put it where I can’t find it.

I sadly told them that they can’t borrow my ipod anymore, because it’s not being treated well enough. This morning I was pretty surprised to see my case in The Mercenary’s hand, walking into church. He’d taken it to cover the iPod he bought (with his own money) last week. Talk about a double standard! i made a big deal of teasing him over the whole thing, but I wasn’t really angry. Getting upset isn’t going to take the scratch out, and hopefully he sees my side of things.

Or at least he will someday when he buys his own car and I ride in it eating a really crumbly snack and leave my drink and coat and papers in the seat. Heh.

Innnnn the meantime, I plan to keep saying “Dude!” or “Oh Man!!” and cultivate more empathy.

by AmyL

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Gratitude

Thu, 02 Dec 2010 14:47:58 +0000

This time of year we all do a good job of remembering what we are grateful for. It is nice to hear people talk about what is important to them and what they appreciate. For the past two weeks my daughters have been working on projects for school to reinforce the idea that this time of year is about gratitude. The first project was a turkey cutout where they were to draw or paste pictures of what they are grateful for. Copy cat wrote one word, “Nana.” While Pack Rat drew a picture of our family.

In Pack Rat’s class they used the computer to create a collage of items they are thankful for. She added people for each person in our family, horses, veggies, fruit and toys. Not a bad collection. We had a brief discussion about the more simple things in life, such as running water, electricity, etc. Copy Cat informed me that a long time ago people didn’t have electricity then proceeded to ask me if I had lights in my room when I was a little girl.

This Thanksgiving I was grateful for so many things. The simple things in life, such as water, grocery stores, restaurants, and a clean home. I am also thankful for a job that I like and a husband that supports me so that I can stay home during the day and work out of the home a couple of nights per week. I am grateful that I have matured and evolved as a person so much so that I have a positive relationship with my in-laws and a new adult-child relationship with my mother.

It doesn’t have to be Thanksgiving or Christmas for me to be thankful for my life. My children are a true blessing and very few days go by that I don’t look at them and give thanks. I cannot imagine what my life would have been without my children. They bring me so much joy. This holiday season, more than every, I am thankful for the title – Mom.

by Kelly Damron

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Never Stop Networking

Wed, 01 Dec 2010 16:10:36 +0000

I’ve learned many lessons from my Mom and many of which are ones she wasn’t trying to teach me. This lesson that I’m about to share is about stay-at-home Moms and how important it is to stay plugged into the working world during those child rearing years.

My Mom got her teaching degree after getting married and before starting a family in the late 60s & early 70s. My parents made the decision for my Mom to stay at home and raise my sister and I, and, thankfully, Dad’s salary and the economy allowed it to happen.

My Mom stayed home from 1973 to 1994, and in that time, the working world had changed immensely. We went from typewriters to word-processing typewriters to computers. I could go on and on with all the changes, but the point is: within 21 years of being out of the workforce, my Mom would have had a steep road ahead to get integrated back into the system. Thankfully, due to her financial savviness, as well as some mental and physical problems, she didn’t need to rejoin the workforce, but what if she did?

As I’ve shared before, I’m a Stay-at-home Mom as well, but I’ve learned from my Mom’s situation that I need to stay plugged into the working world. In order to do this, I learned there were many direct selling companies that allowed me to make my own hours, work from home, and stay connected to the working world. I’m sure you’re aware of many of these companies such as: Longaberger, Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple, Thirty-One, and the list goes on. Back in my Mom’s day it was Tupperware & Avon, and thanks to them, other companies have followed suit.

I ended up choosing Longaberger, which is an awesome company to sell for, I must say. I’m a part of a branch of women whom I previously worked with in my working years, and many others that I’ve been blessed to meet. Also, by sharing the products with other women via Home Shows at customers’ houses, or Open Houses at my own, I’ve been blessed to meet many, many women as well.

Staying connected isn’t the only asset that Longaberger gave me. It was also the back end of the business, with orders, learning their Consultant website, and managing office work. All this allowed me to stay connected with the technology in general, and I forgot to mention make a little money too!

I will admit other than my Longaberger business, I also manage the office work and bookkeeping for our farm & hubby’s concrete business, and now my love of blogging. All of these have helped me stay connected, kept me networking, and kept me up to date on the internet world of social media. These are all things I can add to my resume if and when the time would arise to re-enter the working world.

So I suggest to any Mom that has decide to stay home with their children, which is a wonderful thing, to please stay connected to the working world, because you never know when you may need to re-enter, and when you do, you’ll be prepared.

by City Chic On A Farm

Photo graciously provided by James Vaughan, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved

Lifestyle and Environmental Clues May Help Our Children with Autism

Stu Mark — Tue, 30 Nov 2010 22:39:59 +0000

The following is an Autism survey that we at GNMParents support and urge you to pass along. It was created by Mischelle Miller-Raftery, PhD, who explains her research below:

Autism has reached epidemic proportions, yet even with the increase in research, no one has come up with the proverbial “smoking gun.” Research may never be able to pin down the exact causes. What we can hope for is that research will give us clues as to what is contributing to autism and what is triggering the genetic malfunction causing autism. For example, researchers at the UC Davis have found preliminary results that certain flea and tick shampoos used by mothers during pregnancy has a statistically significant rate of the diagnosis of autism in their children—more research is needed.

In the past there was a battle between a pure genetic malfunction verses a pure environment exposure being the cause. Most researchers now believe that it is a combination of these two factors that cause autism. Of course, genetics will likely be shown to play a significant role in many cases of autism. But, genetic mapping is a slow process and may take years or even decades to complete. Therefore, we must begin to look towards the environment. What in our world is triggering the autism gene, or combination of genes, to become active? This is the primary question researchers are posing now.

Why is it so difficult to determine a cause? Every child is unique with a different genetic make up as well as different environmental exposures. What causes autism in one child, may do nothing in another child. However, with good research we will be able to determine these environmental causes and begin to eliminate then from our house, our environment, and our world. Your help is needed…

I have developed a survey for mothers of children who have been diagnosed with autistic spectrum disorder (Asperger’s Syndrome, autism, and pervasive developmental disorder-not otherwise specified). This survey asks general questions about the mother’s environment and lifestyle choices during pregnancy. The mother will be asked to fill in each question for the time period during their pregnancy with the child who was diagnosed with autism.

The premise of this study is to look for trends between environmental exposures and autism. Specifically, this study explores multiple exposure combinations which might have occurred during your pregnancy. The goal of this study is to explore the possible environmental influences on autism.

To qualify for the study, the participant must meet the following criteria.

• Your child must have been diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder including Asperger’s Syndrone,
autism, and pervasive developmental disorder- not otherwise specified.
• Your baby must have been considered full-term (born after 37 weeks).
• Your child must have no other developmental diagnosis.
• Controlled group – Have a child over the age of three with no known illness diagnosis.

Your participation in this study should take about 25 minutes. To begin now, please click the link: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/3YBPGBT

For additional information about the study, please contact me at mm@mischellemiller.com

Thank you,
Mischelle Miller-Raftery, PhD
California Southern University, 2009

Graph Paper Pictures

Mon, 22 Nov 2010 10:08:27 +0000

The younger boys celebrated their 8th birthday this weekend, and each received his very own Etch-A-Sketch toy. They got up this morning and boy did the creativity abound! I think they spent two hours making pictures together before they even wanted breakfast. Captain Earthquake brought his over to show me an abstraction that he’d made where all the edges looked like cubes. We laughed over some possible descriptions. I thought it looked like buildings reflected on a river or a maze while he said it was a road leading into a city or perhaps a Robloxian.

It occurred to me that doing a drawing on graph paper and coloring in the sections with different colors would be really fun. So we dug out the colored pencils and graph paper and went crazy. It was fun! After a few minutes of coloring in random blocks, we started drawing pictures. The rule was that you had to stick to the lines of the graph paper (we eventually broke that rule too, when the mood struck).

If you have some graph paper and a half-hour, try this with your kids. Let them decide on the rules (and let them change the rules if they want – half the fun is hearing your parent say “Do it however YOU want”). We enjoyed some time together and I got to talk about some drawing techniques without being threatening or sounding like I was correcting their efforts. Each boy did something different and all of us had something to be proud of when we were done.

The picture above is the one I did. The boys laughed at the scale of my pink flower, then they decided that it should be a TV flower because it was square. When I attempted a bird in the tree, the Captain informed me that I had drawn a penguin. So I announced that my penguin knew how to jump into trees. After we abandoned the “draw on the lines” rule, the hammock and table were added. I coulda done a much better bird if the rules had allowed curves. But that challenge made the whole thing so much more fun. I’m glad we drew together.

by AmyL

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Encouraging Individuality

Thu, 18 Nov 2010 09:07:56 +0000

My twin daughters are very different. Their differences are really starting to show as they gain independence by being in their individual classrooms. They are making their own friends and starting to make their own decisions. Copy Cat has started to stand up for what she wants, a fact that Pack Rat is finally adjusting to.

Pack Rat is generally better than Copy Cat at most everything. For example, she runs faster, she reads better, and her handstands are close to perfect. This past weekend, though, I saw Copy Cat run down the soccer field and almost catch the girl with the ball. She seems to be faster than we originally thought.

For the past few weeks both of my girls have told us they were going to score a goal during the soccer game. This past weekend Copy Cat finally scored a goal. Deep down inside I was thrilled for Copy Cat. She was so excited and proud of herself. I did feel sad for Pack Rat as I know she was jealous and upset that she didn’t score a goal too.

Then after the soccer game Copy Cat attended a birthday party without Pack Rat. They both understood that Copy Cat was the one invited and that one day the tables will turn. Pack Rat did extremely well and wasn’t fussy or upset about not being able to attend the party. Copy Cat told me she had a good time at the party without her sister.

A mom of twins at my daughters’ school has been talking to me about my decision to separate my children in the classroom as she has decided to kept her twins together. She was amazed that I didn’t ask the mom of the birthday boy if I could bring my other daughter. As I watched my girls this past weekend, I am certain that I have made some good decisions about encouraging their individually. Hopefully they’ll agree as they grow into young women.

by Kelly Damron

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Are We Too Busy?

Mon, 15 Nov 2010 16:12:52 +0000

When the older boys were just toddlers we were friends with a family that had three pre-teen children. The one message we heard from them constantly revolved around how busy they were keeping up with the kids’ schedules.

They quickly became the anti-example for our family. Hubby and I looked at each other and nodded sagely that we’d NEVER allow life to get so busy that it was constantly stressful. What they were doing, running from one activity to the next, was just crazy.

Now we have pre-teen children. And now we are awfully busy with sports and Scouting and church and 4H and volunteering, all on top of school requirements. Oh, and piano. They’re all learning to play the piano.

So are we too busy? We strive for balance. Keeping boys occupied tends to keep them out of trouble, but we don’t want to be overwhelming. Right now the younger boys have evening commitments once or twice a week, while the older boys have two or three evening commitments weekly. It is working out that the adults have something to do 4 nights a week to make it to all the boy stuff, and frequently activities overlap so we’re having to do some interesting juggling to make it all work.

Because they’re homeschooled, the boys usually have time every afternoon to play. In addition they usually take a healthy recess at lunch time and go outside to jump around and blow off some energy. Piano is done during the schoolday. 4H is only once a month.

This is the first year that we’ve encouraged the boys to branch out and choose the sport or activity they want. Up until now, keeping up with different choices was more than Hubby and I could mentally manage. Now, it doesn’t seem too hard. Tiring. Occasionally confusing. But not too hard.

Have we turned into the anti-example for someone else? It’s interesting how much I want to support the boys in their pursuits. Going to a practice or a game when I could be at home getting my own todo list done doesn’t seem nearly as much of an imposition as it did when our friends were describing it. I know that while the days seem long, the years are going to be short. We only get to do this once.

Keeping life balanced is a huge value around here, and I hope that we look back someday and think, “Yea, that worked out well.”

by AmyL

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How We Communicate

Thu, 11 Nov 2010 09:26:55 +0000

Last week my husband and I were talking about possible vacation options for next summer. He mentioned that his parents wanted to rent RVs and travel for one week. I had plans to fly to Colorado to spend a week with my parents. We talked about how we could make both of these trips work.

In lieu of an RV trek, I mentioned the idea of a Disney cruise. I asked my husband to discuss this with his parents as they had mentioned it in the past. While watching TV I asked, “So, did you talk to your parents about a Disney cruise.” Dave’s response, “Yes.” End of conversation.

I laughed and acknowledged that I asked him a yes or no question. Sometimes I feel like this is how many of our conversations go. Just like this recent conversation I wait and seek more information, but I get a yes or no answer. Every now and then I mention to Dave that it would be nice if we would have more real conversations. He thinks our conversations are fine.

I read the book Men are from Mars Women are from Venus by John Gray, Ph.D. years and year ago. I remember laughing out loud when reading the sample conversations between men and women. Knowing that we communicate differently doesn’t always make it easier. The book Loving What Is by Byron Katie has helped me develop amazing patience and awareness about my actions as well as my expectations of others. Yet, I still get frustrated by our mismatched communications.

After 13 year you would think that I would be better about getting information from my husband. In part, he is used to people asking him information and he answers accordingly. I do not ask enough questions, I guess, and instead hope for him to share more details. I know this doesn’t work, so I don’t know why I still do it. But at the same time, I don’t want to be intrusive or make him feel like I do not trust him.

What are some tips you have for communicating with the opposite sex?

by Kelly Damron

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Breastfeeding: Little Known Facts!

Tue, 09 Nov 2010 09:32:52 +0000

Breastfeeding lowers your risk of Breast Cancer. For women with an immediate relative who had breast cancer, those who breast fed had a 59 percent lower risk of premenopausal breast cancer.

It’s Slimming! Nursing causes the uterus to contract and return to its original size. You can feel a cramping sensation the first few times you breastfeed, and you’ll know it’s your uterus doing sit-ups! Breastfeeding also burns calories!

Breastfed baby poop doesn’t smell as stinky, seriously.

Think about the night feeds: On the one hand, getting up out of a warm bed, mixing a bottle while your baby bawls, waking the entire family. On the other, the roll-over-and-pop-in-a-boob method. With a little practice, you can feed baby in your sleep!

Many women don’t get their period for AGES when breastfeeding. Bonus!

Breastmilk has NEVER been recalled by its manufacturers because of Ammonia Contamination, Beetle Larvae Bits, Melamine or Perchlorate.

Studies indicate that formula-fed infants have a higher risk of SIDS.

Feed with ease when travelling. Planning a trip to foreign parts? With breastfeeding, you never have to worry about tainted water supplies, electricity cuts, and long waits at airports. And, it’s already packed!

by Nan Sheppard

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I'm Adding "Hmm" to My Vocabulary

Mon, 08 Nov 2010 09:10:18 +0000

I’ve long been fond of the Love and Logic approach to parenting, mainly because of its focus on putting responsibility on children instead of the parents. By that I mean that children get to learn naturally from their mistakes at a young age. One of the keys to success in this approach is for the parent to not get into power struggles or long arguments with children. In other words, the saying “less is more” applies here.

I happen to be pretty good with words, but this often translates into my saying waaaaay too much instead of letting the boys figure things out on their own. I’m working on it.

I’ve got a long way to go.

One of the key rules of the method is to have a catch word or phrase that you use when situations go awry. When your child gets himself into difficulty, you say something like “Bummer” or “Oh dear” or whatever works for you. I’ve tried different words over the years but nothing really fit me without sounding a little insincere. Lately though, the word “Hmm” delivered with a cheerful yet detached tone has been working.

I knew it was a good fit when it popped out of my mouth this afternoon naturally. Last week for some reason the older boys were ALL OVER the younger ones with bossiness. A friend of mine who is pretty darn wise suggested that if the older boys correct the younger boys while I’m in charge (if they’re officially babysitting, then that’s a different story), that then there will be no further consequences for younger ones. I can just say, “Hm. Well, I guess you already took care of that.” and wander away.

I tried out a modified version of that today. I had just asked TechnoBoy to stop playing on the computer and go outside to play when he said, “Well Captain Earthquake and The Manager have to go too” in a rather snippy tone. So I said, “Hmm. You just earned them an extra 5 minutes of screen time. Parenting is my job.”

That was kind of fun. (insert evil laugh here) Hopefully I get to do that again.

by AmyL

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What Other People Think

Thu, 04 Nov 2010 09:15:00 +0000

Self-confidence is something that sometimes eludes me. Over the years I have worked on being nice to myself and taking pride in those things that I do/did well. The negative self-talk is still there, but so much less than it used to be. It is an ongoing effort on my part to watch my words. In my last post I talked about how my kids think I am perfect…if they only knew what was going on inside my own mind they would be shocked.

I have always been one to care what other people thought of me. It is always hurtful to hear when someone doesn’t like you or something you did. When I was younger I was often labeled as “unfriendly” or “snotty” but in reality I was extremely shy. My daughters are very shy too and I hope that they will be given the shy label instead of the unpleasant ones. As we get older we learn to cope with these labels easier and not so personally. And as parents we can help our children though some of the awkwardness of their relationships.

Recently I offered one of my daughter’s friend’s mothers (did you follow that?) a play date to help her daughter build friendships (her daughter is extremely shy). She mentioned she had a play date with a friend from Pack Rat’s class but didn’t really seem interested in getting together with us. Okay. I was a little bummed because I like the mom and hoped we could get to know each other too. I’ve been debating about offering again in hopes she’ll be interested. But I haven’t done so because, well, I don’t want her to say no. Silly? Yes.

To some extent I think I have been labeled by some of the other moms. And while they are all nice to me, I am not sure they think they can relate to me. I am one of those moms who drops her kids off at school basically ready to start my day – yes, I’m dressed in cute clothes and most of the time my hair is done. What they don’t know is there are two main reasons I do so, first it allows me to start working when I return home thereby maximizing the time I have when my kids are at school (which means I have quality time with my kids when they get home) and second, looking “good” in the morning (or out in public) helps me with my self-confidence issues. I read in an article that one of the best ways to stave off depression is to look your best everyday. It helps with self-confidence too.

Hopefully as the year progresses the moms of my daughters’ friends will see that I am a down-to-earth person and that hanging out with me is actually kind-of fun! And while I know that I will not become friends with all of the moms, I am looking forward to building some new friendships. Even as adults, friends are special people in our lives. I know that I love seeing my old friends and enjoy making new ones too. How about you?

by Kelly Damron

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What An Honor

Wed, 03 Nov 2010 09:14:54 +0000

I’m not a big religious person, I don’t attend church on a regular basis, but I can tell you that I BELIEVE and I have my own relationship with HIM. With that said this post is from the heart and comes from way down deep and shows my thankfulness of the gifts I’ve received.

After two years of marriage hubby and I decided to have kids. I remember the day the pregnancy test was positive, which brought many different emotions that included happy and scared-to-death. We were going to be parents! We were going to be bringing a child into this challenging world. God help us!

Our son was born 10 days after his due date and I was amazed at how quickly my Motherly instincts kicked in which included how tuned in I was to his needs even on the first day.

I heard through my pregnancy from many people to enjoy your kid(s) while they’re young and savor every moment because they grow up so quickly. I truly took that to heart, because I remember playing with him every chance I got, watched him sleep, and the list goes on. The love I felt for him was like no other and at times just wanted to put him back in (yes return to my pregnant state) and keep him safe for ever.

We have since had 2 more boys with a total of 3, and we are blessed.

A sense of honor came upon me after having our first son and has gotten stronger since having the other two. Yes, being a parent isn’t easy by any means, but being honored to be their Mom is humbling. HE thought enough of me to bless me with 3 handsome sons all with their own gifts, needs, and challenges.

HIS challenge for me has been exactly that, a challenge. I’m learning along the way by doing my best to raise each son by helping them find their gifts, making sure their needs are met, and working through the challenges each of them face. So far the big challenges have been lazy eye for my oldest, anxiety for my middle son, and a strong willed nature with my youngest. There have been many days where I question whether or not I can handle these blessings and why he chose me for these three souls. HE reminds me when I look back at each hurtle why we were blessed, and for that I am honored.

What an honor to be the Mom of three sons. Thank you Lord!

by City Chic On A Farm

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Balancing Chores

Mon, 01 Nov 2010 13:24:09 +0000

In my neverending quest to get this chore thing figured out, I tried a new plan this summer. A friend mentioned it. Each boy has a chart that shows his daily tasks and it’s his responsibility to do the work and have it checked and signed off on the chart. If they do that all week they get a bonus on their allowance. If not, allowance is reduced by about 35%.

When I’ve managed to print off the charts (we’ll get back to that part shortly), the whole system worked rather well. I couldn’t wrap my mind around how to assign things, so Hubby did that a few months ago. Overall, I liked the accountability and not having to nag, and it was great to have pre-defined tasks. Hubby set it up so that they were only spending maybe 10-15 minutes working. That part was nice too, because nobody could complain about being overworked and we could still a) have them help with large projects just because helping the family is good; and b) offer to pay for big tasks if we wanted to do so.

What didn’t work was printing off the silly charts every week, and then keeping track of chart location. Also the workload itself was a little skewed. The bathroom cleaning, for example, was split between pairs of boys. But each boy had the same task every time, unless one of the adults remembered to address the situation. I can’t remember that kind of detail!

So. I took the original sheets and spread them out and made a list of what chores were being assigned. Then I filled in a blank chart for each pair of boys, and I made it a two-week list instead of one. No more weekly printing, instead we only need two pages per month, on average. Now on Tuesdays the first week TechnoBoy has to carry the laundry down for me to wash while his twin has to vacuum the bedroom. During the second week, they switch. I was able to list two chores per day for each of the older boys. The younger ones vary from one to three tasks per day. There was no way to do any better because some jobs all four boys rotate through. I also added a bathroom cleaning (yay!) and had everything in Monday through Friday when I realized Hubby had assigned them Saturday chores. Double yay! Parent’s choice it is!

We’re trying out having the boys keep their chart with their desks. Chores are usually done right after school anyhow, so keeping it there seems to make sense. It was nice to not hunt for papers last week.

The last thing I did was to assign a team captain task to each boy once a week. We’re still figuring out exactly what the job means, but I think it will work. The idea is that there is good bossing and bad bossing, and we need to practice good bossing. So the captain has responsibilities to notice if a chore isn’t done and ask-nicely-for that person to do his job. More developments on that over time will be forthcoming.

by AmyL

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Photo graciously provided by David Reber’s Hammer Photography, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved

Perfect

Thu, 28 Oct 2010 12:36:59 +0000

Sometimes things do happen for a reason. Somewhere along the way I didn’t update my calendar for my daughter’s soccer game and instead volunteered to man a booth for a volunteer group. The event wasn’t well attended and I was sitting there thinking how I could be doing a zillion other things. Then a random conversation with the gentleman in the booth next to me made every minute I was there worth my time.

We were talking about his booth space and he mentioned that he was a psychology major. I laughed a little since he is now in sales. But as he explained his reasoning for choosing a business career it all made sense. Then he started asking me about my children. Since I knew he was a psych major I decided to ask for some advice. My daughter Copy Cat has some issues with self confidence. I don’t know where it stems from, but it is something that I am making a conscious effort to work on with her.

I told him how Copy Cat can read well, but she tends to hold back because she doesn’t want to be wrong. I also told him that her sister, Pack Rat, is good at everything and this is difficult for Copy Cat. So I make an effort to point out the things Copy Cat does well to help her see how she is different from her sister.

Danny asked me if my daughters had ever seen me make a mistake. Well probably not. He wondered if they had ever seen me try something new (because I have kind of forced them into 2 new activities twice in the past 6 months). No, not really. And when I told him that I tried belly dancing, “it was fun, but I wasn’t very good at it,” my negative words provided insight as to why my daughter may have negative self talk too.

Danny informed me that I was perfect, in my daughters’ eyes anyway. Tonight I was helping Copy Cat work on her Star of the Week poster for class next week. There is a section that asks, “When I grow up…” Copy Cat wrote that she wants to be a horseback rider and a mom. She looked at me as she said, “A mom.” I think Danny was right. My daughters, especially Copy Cat, think that I am perfect and to some extent she may want to be like me.

My goal over the next few months is to show and admit to my children when I make a mistake. To show them that I do not do everything just right. I started today by admitting that I overcooked their crepes. They didn’t seem to hear my admission. It’s a little thing, but I figured every little thing may one day add up and help Copy Cat to see that it is okay to make a mistake and to try something even if you cannot do it right the first time.

by Kelly Damron

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Photo graciously provided by BigKidsLoveToys – off more than on, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved

I Love Them. That Is All.

Wed, 27 Oct 2010 09:26:29 +0000

As I write this essay, my birthday has come to a close. My husband is playing a few minutes on a hand held videogame. My children are fast asleep. The cat is doing things that cats do late at night. The day was nothing extraordinary, which made it wonderful. It was probably the best day ever, because it was so simple and in that simplicity, so very perfect.

Tonight, I held my daughter’s hand as she drifted off to sleep. I could almost feel how quickly her childhood is passing by. She’s five years old already. I remember when she was born as though it were last week. My own mother probably feels the same about the 40 “something” years I’ve be around. Sitting there, beside my daughter’s bed, I made myself commit that moment to memory and tuck it away to remember on the day she turns 18 and moves off to college.

Long ago, when I would look forward to my future, I didn’t necessarily see children as a part of it. Thankfully, the universe knew me far better than I knew myself. I have been blessed and honored to share my life with two such wonderful human beings that I lack the words to even begin to describe how much they mean to me. They are not perfect (who is?), but they are my babies.

So, I come here to gush, but not about anything in particular. I gush just that they are. I love my son and I love my daughter; differently, equally. I am so very happy that the universe is so very wise.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

by Rocket Science Mom

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Owning Our Depression

Tue, 26 Oct 2010 19:01:53 +0000

The weather, our hormones, the way our lives change when we become mums and dads, financial woes, broken sleep, so many responsibilities, things not working out the way you had dreamed… There are many reasons for parents to feel overwhelmed, exhausted, or depressed.

The first step in dealing with depression is often simply admitting defeat: “I AM SO DEPRESSED!” We are used to carrying on as normal, saying “I’m fine thank you,” and not making changes for our health. Often we are so very busy, we feel that we cannot stop and give ourselves the time and love that we need. But a parent who is tired and unhappy is not the best parent, partner, or friend they can be.

“There is no doubt that depressed mothers can also have a big
negative impact on their babies’ brains.”
– Sue Gerhardt, psychotherapist

If making ourselves happier is going to help our kids to thrive, then bring it on I say!

Getting Better:

Old wives used to say “Fresh air and Exercise, that’s what you need!” and there is certainly something in that. Walking in the sunshine is proven to beat some types of depression, and exercise releases endorphins, which acts like a shot of happiness.

Talking to others about it can help, if you have a spouse, friend, mum, fellow volunteer, or doctor with whom you feel comfortable opening your heart. Other people can often see a practical solution to a problem when we are just too miserable to think clearly.

Cleaning! When my house gets too cluttered and chaotic, I get crabby. It’s time to put on the cleaning music, grab a bag, and go from room to room throwing stuff out. By the time I’ve got all of the dirty socks in the laundry bin and wiped everywhere with nice-smelling stuff, I definitely feel better. I’ve even had friends come over and fold laundry while I tidied around them, which is TRUE friendship. (Okay, so they couldn’t find a chair to sit on unless they moved the laundry heap… but it’s the actions that count!)

Vitamins and a healthy diet: Omega 3, B vitamins, and several others nutrients are found to aid recovery. Our modern lifestyles are stressful and much of the food we eat is not of the best quality. I know that when I feel blue, I don’t feel like cooking, and go for easy snacks.

Hydration: Drinking enough water is a simple way to detox and feel more energetic. Drink your eight glasses a day!

Meditation can be useful in learning to quiet the mind and deal with stress.

Helping others can be uplifting. Volunteering your skills with a local charity, for example, will win you many enthusiastic friends!

And If That Doesn’t Work…

We all have bad days, but ongoing depression can be your mind telling you that something has to change. Unresolved issues from our own childhood can affect the way we feel about ourselves as parents, and talking about it can help.

Ask your GP for advice: they can often help you by listening, and they may have excellent suggestions. Your doctor can refer you to a counsellor or psychologist if you need further assistance, and these specialists are a wonderful resource. The earlier you can deal with the issues that cause you stress, the faster you can get on with your life and be the best parent possible.

Depression can also be a symptom of a medical condition, such as some viral infections or hypothyroidism, and your GP may want to check that you aren’t suffering from any treatable condition. So do see your doctor if you can’t seem to beat the blues.

Remember, most kinds of depression are temporary: Post Natal Depression will lift, and those of us who get depressed when the weather is grey feel better in the Spring, so there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Getting help can make you feel better sooner, and might just prevent recurring blues. Take care of yourself, so that you can be the best for your family!

by Nan Sheppard

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Photo graciously provided by Denis Collette…!!!, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved