The only thing we have to fear is spontaneously falling off a really high bridge to our bloody, violent deaths

There are many things in this world I am afraid of - Losing my family, a fire in my home, hairy French Canadian men in Speedos vacationing on Maine beaches - but only one stops me dead in my tracks and paralyzes me like no other.

Heights.

I hate them. Never liked them. Have always been afraid of them. I have no idea from which my fear stems, I just remember always feeling this way. Me + ground = good. Me + not on the ground = I’m going to die, You’re going to die, WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIIIIIEEEEEEE.


I was that kid in gym class who wouldn’t climb the rope or get up on the balance beam. I was the teen who would rather have chanced sneaking out the front door instead of going out the window (on a related note, I was grounded a lot), and I’m the person who always offers to hold the ladder so I don’t need to be the one who goes up it but then does so with one hand because the other is firmly over my eyes. And I will never, ever, get on a roller coaster. Not for all the tea in China. Not for a million dollars. Not for a chance to run my hands over Ryan Reynolds’ ab... Um, well, maybe that? No. No I can’t do it. Uh uh, no way. Ain’t gonna happen. Even if you promise me I can lick those magnificent muscles. Yeah.

Except.

Julia* has been bringing up places like Six Flags and Disney World. And when I say “Bringing Up”, I mean, “Maaaaawwwwmmmm, when are weeeee going to goooooo to Disney Wooorrrlllldddd?????” I blame school for this.

*shakes fist at public school but never for a second considers home schooling*

A number of her friends, mostly the ones with older siblings, have been going to these magical places and then bringing back tales of friendly over-sized rodents and OMG, like, super cool rides that go really really fast, Mom, and REALLY HIGH.

And of course, she wants to go too.

Mr. C and I have already decided that places like Disney World are strictly verboten until we can get some culture into our kids... and satisfy our own world travel needs, but mostly because we believe a trip to, say, Scotland or England or one of the other 25 countries of our dead ancestors would better serve our family than a trip to the happiest place on earth. That and we don’t feel like dropping thousands on a trip where the most fun our children will have will be at the hotel pool. Although, that will probably happen anyway, the ungrateful brats. What was I saying?

Right. Heights comma My Fear of Them.

This debilitating phobia has stopped me from climbing to the tops of *coughverysmallcough* mountains. From going all the way to the top of the Torre del Mangia in Siena, Italy and taking in that magnificent view. From walking across rope bridges at Rock City in Tennessee and taking in that magnificent view. Of Alabama. This fear gave me heart palpitations and had me nearly in tears during the entire 60 minutes wait at Space Mountain.

I was 14 freaking years old! That’s just sad, y’all.

I know my days are numbered. I know there will come a day when I’ll have to swallow my fear, and my heart, and get on a ferris wheel or some other instrument of torture with one of my kids and try to put on a brave face and pretend like I’m not about to throw up. I don’t know how I’m going to do it but it has to happen. Because no one wants to be that mom. You know, the one who screams like a girl on the flying teacups.

Who am I kidding? We both know that will be me.


* That would be Chicky I'm referring to. Just making sure you're keeping up.


---

*** Writing prompt courtesy of the lovely and talented Jozet who asked what my favorite amusement park rides were. This is my roundabout way of saying the snack bar.

IS GREEN PARENTING OBSESSIVE PARENTING

Is green parenting obsessive parenting in disguise? I hardly think so but there must be a virus of hate going around, because I've gotten some really snarky comments on a few of my posts that I made awhile back that indicated that I was being over protective and was obsessed with my daughter's illnesses and allergies. WTH?

I've heard instances where parents were attacked and criticized about the choices they made regarding breastfeeding in public, vaccinations, green living practices and yeah...even recycling! One has to believe that education is the answer to such biased thinking and ignorance but yet here we are in 2010 and getting bashed for believing the data that proves beyond a doubt that global warming is real, reports that there are islands of garbage floating in the ocean that exceed the size of some states and that the effects of the major environmental disaster in the Gulf of Mexico will take decades to overcome.

How anyone can find the time to bash the gay community and harass parents over trying to make a better world for their kids is mind boggling since there are so many bigger issues to get huffy about. Maybe haters are looking for easy targets and the big corporations are out of reach?

For the record:

I have had to wrestle with whether or not to vaccinate my daughters because, autism aside, they have severe egg allergies..so shoot me.

My husband and I co-sleep with our babies. Yes, it's hard to know when and how to stop co-sleeping but I wouldn't trade those nights snuggled with my infants in my arms knowing that they were safe and well for anything.

I breastfed each of my girls as long as I possibly could but there were times when I supplemented with store bought formula when I had to. It hurt at the time, but a mom does what she has to do.

I believe that organic foods are better for all of us and don't like plastic coming in contact with my food but when push came to shove I have been known to pop a frozen dinner in the microwave.

I have used both cloth and disposable diapers. I prefer organic cotton cloth diapering but there have been times when it was just easier to use disposables and I succumbed to temptation.

Do my choices make it sound like I'm an obsessed parent? When is green parenting obsessive parenting? When there is no flexibility and you sacrifice the peace and functionality of the family for the sake of sticking to a cause at all costs. That ain't me.

What's in a name? Well it has nothing to do with a rose, I can tell you that.

I've been a parent long enough to know that no matter what I do, no matter what I say, I will always, inevitably, mess up something.

Little gaffes will go unnoticed by everyone but me. Slightly larger ones will be noticed by my husband or a close friend. Big parenting fuck ups will have tongues wagging long enough to make me want to hide in my room with the covers over my head until the next scandal. Thankfully, I haven't made one of those mistakes yet but let's face it, it's only a matter of time. This is me we're talking about.

Then there are those parenting failures that no one considers mistakes but I know they are and there's nothing anything you can do to make me think differently. So there.

Case in point, I named my child the wrong name.

Back before we had Caroline* (AKA - CC.) I asked for help in naming my child. That's right, I asked the internet, complete strangers in some cases, to help me name my baby. And you did help and it was awesome. I not only got help narrowing down my search for the perfect baby name but you also shared stories with me about naming your own children and in some cases the story behind your name. And then we all sang kumbaya and ate some s'mores.

The list had all the names my husband and I considered worthy of our blessed spawn and methodically I worked through that list and crossed off one name after another for one reason or another until we came to an agreement about which we liked best, to be revisited once we could look upon the baby and give her a name that suited her best. I call it an agreement, Mr. C calls it taking into account his wishes for one specific name and then summarily squashing that idea and choosing one I liked better. Potato - potahto.

Finally (seriously), the magical day came when I pushed an 8 pound baby from my lady parts who really, really did not want to come out. There was much rejoicing and crying... maybe more crying than rejoicing - pretty sure she was holding on by her fingernails in there - and when the nurse, or maybe the doctor (fingernails, sharp ones), asked what my perfect cherub of a daughter was to be called, I said, "Caroline."

And then I wanted to kick myself in the kidneys because it wasn't right.

But it seemed too late to correct it. Everyone was calling her Caroline. They were cooing her name, "Sweet, sweet Caroline". My husband was, probably intelligently, keeping his mouth shut about the whole thing. We told our then two year old that her sister's name was Caroline. She called her "Baby Sister Carowine". It was such a perfect moment it would have made a bystander want to smack someone in the head, so overwhelming was the adorableness.

For the next couple of days I tried out the name on my perfect, beautiful, angry, squalling infant. For the next few weeks I tried out the name on my perfect, beautiful, angry, refused to sleep more than 45 minutes at a time infant. For the next few months I tried out the name on my perfect, beautiful, OMG CHILD WILL YOU PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY SLEEP FOR ONCE???

What was I saying?

Then when she was around four months old it hit me - The Perfect Name.

I can't believe it hadn't occurred to me before. The Name was a perfect combination of my Nana's name and Mr. C's Nana's name. It was a name that could easily transition from childhood into adulthood and could even be shortened into a cute nickname. Not to put too fine a point on it but it really was The Perfect Name.

And no, I'm not sharing it. I have a hard enough time not referring to my kid in private by the name. But don't think I don't think about it. A lot.

Not only did I goof on her name but I gave her a name that there is always a chance will be either spelled or pronounced incorrectly. After living with mine for as long as I have, I swore I would never do that to my kids. Now people refer to her as Carolyn. Oops, my bad.

In the grand scheme of things this really isn't bad. Let's call it a Whoopsie. One day she'll ask if she was ever going to be called something else and before telling her I'll remind her of that time I picked her up from school 30 minutes late in mismatched shoes with my hair not brushed and insisted on slowing down in front of that cute boy from school while yelling, "Yoohoo! Want a ride, sailor?"

It should soften the blow.

Introducing Murgatroyd Sparkles Sarsaparilla. It's so obvious, I don't know why it took me so long to think of it.

*After five years of blogging I think it's time to use their real names. They're both somewhere on this blog anyway.

Whoever said birthdays were all candles and party hats never dared enter my head

Today is my birthday. I'm 38 years old.

Let me start by saying, 38 is not old. I don't feel old, though my knees might think differently, and compared to the lifespan of the average American woman, I'm in the prime of my life. But I can't help but compare myself, and where I am in my life right now, to where my mother was at this age.

My mother was a child when she got married, she was barely nineteen and less than a month after her 20th birthday she had me. Which means, when my mother was my age, she had an 18 year old daughter entering college. Therefore, adding it all up and carrying the one, I am old enough to have a child in college. But fast forward twenty years and I have a daughter entering kindergarten. My mind, it is significantly boggled.

I don't know how to process this. It has less to do with the biological possibility of having a child old enough to be considered a legal adult and more to do with grappling with my feelings about my mom and the way she and my father raised me compared to how I'm raising my children.

My parents were so young and naive and without modern conveniences like the internet to help them with their parenting choices (there is some sarcasm in that last part). For better or worse, they relied heavily on their families, specifically their parents from a far more removed generation, to lend guidance and share wisdom.

I don't agree with most of what they did, but here I am today - the first of my family to attend and graduate college. I've never been arrested and have never mixed up in drugs or criminal activity. Whether it was nature or nurture, and regardless of the negative things which I really don't feel like getting into, something went right.

My husband and I have years and experiences my parents didn't have. We have the education and the income they only dreamed of. Time will tell if the outcome is any better but I know what I'll be wishing for when I blow out the candles on my cake.

Then I went home and listened to Cat's in the Cradle while eating an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's

She...



Can swim the length of a pool and back unassisted.

Can ride a two-wheel bike without training wheels.

Is learning to read and write at an amazingly fast pace.

Is constantly running, jumping, speeding around on her scooter, doing cartwheels.

Knows how to use a computer and an iPad.

Started Kindergarten last week.

Gets on a bus that takes her away from me every morning and to a place that encourages her to run and jump and learn and make friends.

Has friends I’ve never met.

Is growing up.

I...

Am not as ready as I thought I was.

My heart

Children have no idea of the power they hold over their parents.

It’s just as well. If they did, imagine the possibilities.

It would all be puppies and ponies and chocolate for dinner.

But procuring small, fuzzy animals aside, children, from day one, hold us in the palm of their hands never realizing at any moment they can, and do, crush us. Oftentimes several times a day.

A fever will have us up all night with worry. A tantrum can send us into a fit of our own. A hug and a kiss melts our heart. The very heart they hold in their tiny fists.

It takes a hard heart to not be melted by a child’s hands, a child’s tears, a skinned knee, a hopeful look. We write about it, in baby books, in blogs. We tell our friends and our family anecdotes. Share life’s small moments. Show them the latest pictures whether they want to see them or not. We have to.

And as they grow older their power changes. They become manipulative but they’re still our babies. Still unable to comprehend what they can do to us. They have the power to wound us. Cut us to the core. Demolish us with a word. Make us bleed with an action. We grapple with our feelings for them. Love, hate, resentment, need. How crazy that all those emotions and more can be evoked all at once and by one small person. How insane we can feel this way because of...

Love.

Love at its purest as well at its most complicated.

We created them. They can end us. Give, take. Push, pull.

Power without supremacy. Surrender without frailty. Nurturing. Giving. Love.

My heart is their heart. They can do with it what they will.

The Feral Woodland Monkey Child of Awesome

See this kid?



She’s awesome.

She’s almost always filthy, half naked, with her hair in her face, climbing something incredibly dangerous and sticking sharp things toward her face on purpose. While wearing a cowboy hat.

Like I said, she’s awesome.

I don’t know where she came from - probably from that whacked-out, crazy part of my family, which if I’m being honest is most of them so the odds were good I’d get at least one child who was just this side of cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs - but she’s mine and despite her penchant for scaling walls and laying on top of the wood stove while watching SpongeBob and eating stolen carbohydrates, I love her madly.

Because she’s made of awesome it makes up for all the sleepless nights/gray hairs/added trips to my therapist. Mostly.


Look at her. If you didn't know her you’d think from her diminutive size she’d be the quiet, retiring type. You’d think because she’s a female child she wouldn’t have the ability to make the other little boys her age run away in terror, crying real tears to their mothers. You’d think from the dresses and sparkly necklaces she wears she’d be a feminine, girly girl. But you’d be wrong. She's just herself - which is awesome.

She plays in the toilet, destroys books, sits on top of upright pianos, dumps the contents of full cereal boxes onto the floor and then sits next to the 90 pound dog to share the reward, uses both hands to eat her food even though she can, oh yes she can, use a fork and spoon. She’s not going to preschool for another year but her future teachers have been warned she’s coming. They are ready because they have seen her and I do believe they understand the awesome headed their way.

You have to love her, because she is awesome.

She’s not afraid to stand up for herself, hold her ground and protect what she believes to be hers. She will tell you about her day in great detail and you’d be lucky to understand five words - because frankly, they’d be awesome words - but she doesn’t care because darnit, she’s got something to say. She will hold your face to hers to make sure you’re listening intently. And you will, because her stories are... You know.

But at the end of the day when she’s exhausted from being awesome she’ll curl up on my chest like she did when she was even tinier and demand I sing Itsy Bitsy Spider while tickling the actions on her back.

And she sighs.

And she snuggles.

And I’ll do it some more.

Not because she asked but because being with her like that, quiet and still with that perfect little creature, even after she tried to ride the dog like a horse and dumped a bottle of soap all over the bathroom floor and drew in red crayon up the stairs and after a day when even her grandparents couldn’t take her and her antics for another minute... that time with my baby girl is awesome.

Because for a moment OMG SHE'S NOT MOVING. AWESOME!

HOW TO STOP SCREAMING AT YOUR KIDS

If you've started yelling, you need to know how to stop screaming at your kids. Yelling and screaming to get the kids' attention is a nasty habit that probably started one day when you were overwhelmed and too tired for positive parenting practices and then before long, it was your secret weapon aka nasty habit.

Believe me, I know what I'm talking about here. As the stress of taking care of a chronically ill child and then my husband started to take its toll...my voice started rising in lockstep. And it worked for a little while but then one day I realized I was turning into THAT mommy.

There was a mom like that in my neighborhood when I was a kid. It was the joke of the block. I can remember hearing this lady's loud, loud voice and the adults laughing and saying stuff like, "There goes Mrs. So and So on her evening rant". Why nobody actually tried to help is beyond me. The woman worked several jobs and had no husband, but if anyone did I was not aware of it.


Getting back to my own life, awhile back, I realized that my speaking voice when dealing with my older girls had risen to levels that probably could be heard next door. An echo that came back at me from across the valley tipped me off and a little voice whispered in my ear, "You need to learn how to stop screaming at your kids!"

Once I dedicated myself to keeping household's noise level to a low hum, I realized I didn't just need to lower my voice. I needed to take a look at where the yelling was coming from. It hit me that my nerves and emotions are shot from sheer overwork and exhaustion. The reason I have started to lose it with the children is because I am overworked and they have started to "take control" which is only natural since mommy appears to have lost hers. They have become powerful as a group in the face of my weakness.

I am going to have to turn the tide, regain control and win back my kids' respect and there is no time like the present. The loving family that I dreamed of and started out with is not going to slip through my fingers for one more minute. I am pledging to take control of my emotions and keep my cool.

Here are some ideas that I I'm putting to work today.

• 
  Stop feeling sorry for myself
  
• Take an attitude of gratitude
  
• Stay in the moment and don't drift into the past or future stressing about what could be or what might have been.
  
• Take a little time for myself so that I'm rested and better equipped to handle things
  
• Take a minute to calm myself before opening my mouth
  

I'm going to read some books on the subject of how to stop yelling at your kids and take the best tips to heart and chunk the rest. I am not going to be the village joke just because my life has not turned out just the way I planned it. My plan is to replace my stressed out chaotic reactions with calm reasoning.

Please pray for me and if you have any suggestions on how I can stay on track and start parenting my kids again rather than losing control and yelling at them I would love to hear from you.

MAKE YOUR CAR A NO PHONE ZONE

Texting while driving is dangerous and downright dumb! Please, make your car a no phone zone for the safety of both my family and yours. I've watched more vehicles swerving and running off the road since texting began than I ever saw driving home from concerts at 2am in the morning! Does that mean that cell phones have made clean and sober drivers more dangerous than those that are driving drunk or high?
We may never hear the results of that study, but don't we expect more out of people who are NOT under the influence?

I've been a fan of banning TALKING on cell phones while driving for years. I actually thought that not texting while operating a moving vehicle should have been a no-brainer. Unfortunately, busy people with busy lives are choosing a very dangerous way of staying in touch with their offices and their loved ones.

Joining the fight to give you inspiration and tell you why and how to make your car a no phone zone became very personal to me not so long ago. A friend, texting on his cell phone, ran his front tire off the edge of the road and over-corrected into the next lane of traffic. Some bull-shit text cost this talented young man his life. The world is a sadder place without his music and his uplifting love of life. All because some bored friend felt the need to say, "Wut's up?".

Tell me, do you want to have been in the other lane when somebody jerks the wheel under similar circumstances? I don't...

PLEASE
When you get a call on your cell, let voicemail answer and call back later when you are not driving. If you are expecting an important call, pull over to check to see who called and listen to the message after you stop! When you are traveling let driving be your priority and don't succumb to distracted driving.

EDUCATE YOUR DRIVER'S ED PROGRAM
Contact your local high school (even if you don't have a teenage driver in the house) and ask if the instructor teaches a class on how to avoid being a distracted driver and if he tells his students NOT to talk or text while driving and make this a topic of one (or more!) of your parenting chats.

Please learn how to make your car a no phone zone and stick to it! I don't want to lose any more friends due to "death by texting". And if you're walking as part of your efforts in going green, you should know that more pedestrians are stepping off the curb and being hit by moving cars than ever before because of typing on their cell phones.

Common sense should tell you that if you are moving...NO TEXTING!

Ramble on

So... yeah.

I've been moping. My dog, Lana, has been moping. We've been mopey. Moper McMopersons. My cat, Nina, aka Jabba the Cat - who is trying her best to lose that nickname, now that I've just found out she has a hyperthyroid problem and is losing weight super fast and Hello! More vet bills! *sigh* - however, has been thrilled there is one less slobbery beast to steal her food and fight for position near me on the couch. And the kids have been fine - Chicky likes the shock value of talking about death and CC only once stepped into the sun room and asked "Where Fisher go?", which broke my heart into ten million tiny pieces... But that was a week ago. And your comments and emails and words of love were so very welcome and filled my cold, dead heart with warmth until it turned black and inky again. So there's that.

(That's me saying Thank You, by the way.)

To get me out of this funk, and possibly kick start my writing again - did I mention Chicky had a birthday? Three weeks ago? No? She's five now. I should probably write something about that... before she's 15. And CC. Where do I even begin to write about CC? - might I suggest a little audience participation?

Wait! Don't go. It's painless, I promise.

I poseth to you, dearest reader, this question -

At what age do (did) you feel comfortable allowing your child(ren) outside to play alone and unsupervised (except for the surreptitious viewing out the window by overprotective parent, oh, every five seconds)? Does your location factor in to your decision? And how far will you let them go out of view? Next door to the neighbor's house? Two feet from the front door? In the backyard, but only if tethered by a ten foot leash and only if Child Services isn't looking?

What sayeth you?

Jennifer Lopez Body After Babies

I've read so much speculation and so many comments about Jennifer Lopez body after babies that it made me all the more happy about my total lack of celebrity mom status. How awful it must be to think that the public at large is sitting around wondering about how flabby your belly is or how low your boobs are going to drop after breastfeeding.

Other than running across her name plastered on the front of magazines in the checkout line at the grocery and enjoying some of the movies she's starred in, I must make the confession that I haven't given Jennifer Lopez body after babies, before babies or otherwise much thought. However, after reading an article today with quotes from her on motherhood and her flabby tummy after having her twins; I am now one of her most devoted fans.

She was quoted as saying that when she got a peek at her flabby belly after giving birth she just laughed and said to her husband 'Look, baby! Isn't this crazy?' and that she just didn't care." Now THAT is, in my humble opinion, a celebrity mom with an attitude worthy of admiration!

How Do I Entertain My Newborn

A neighbor recently asked me, "How do I entertain my newborn?" I suppose she had noticed my house bursting at the seams with babies and felt I had lots of experience with entertaining them to maintain my sanity. My response was, "How do you know she's bored?". Her crestfallen expression made me feel so bad and brought back memories of how lost I was at times with my first that I wanted to offer some assistance.

I had never given this much thought and when I did, I had to question how DO I entertain my newborn? After putting my mind to it I realized that I have got a few tricks up my sleeve for keeping a four month old (or thereabouts) occupied. Here are a few tips that have served me well during church services, in doctor's waiting rooms and at other times when I noticed that my babies were getting bored.

(1.)
At home, I simply talk to my infants, make the occasional silly face and then laugh with them. I take their bouncy seat, swing, playpen or high chair into the room where I'm working to give them a change of scenery and let them be a part of what I'm doing.

(2.)
How do I entertain my newborn at church? My little ones refused to stay in the nursery much to the dismay of those close to our family's pew. There are Sundays when it's just not worth the effort but on special occasions when watching church on television just won't do, I resort to quiet toys and making funny faces behind my hand so the minister won't get the idea that I'm mocking him.


After typing this post, I've come to the conclusion that entertaining a four month old baby will come naturally if you just relax and let it happen. Giggling, being silly and being in the moment is easy; it's thinking about it that makes it more complicated than it has to be.

Am I a Helicopter Mom

My goal for yesterday was to decide if I am a helicopter mom. I was forced to take a look at myself to see if all of the health problems and chronic illnesses in my household had caused me to cross the line from caring, attachment parenting into helicopter parenting? Am I guilty of hovering about throwing myself between my kids and the cruel world and therefore leaving them victims to stunted development?

I’m a pretty busy lady and it has taken a little longer for the latest buzz phrase to catch my attention. However, my sister (remember the one who lets her kids run wild?) pointedly brought up the term "helicopter parenting" that she heard on a CBS documentary that aired awhile back to me over the weekend. I believe that she is pointing the finger at me for being a "hyper-parent" who coddles her kids.

WHAT IS A HELICOPTER MOM

Other than the obvious assumption that the definition of a helicopter mommy is one that hovers, after doing a little research I have ascertained that this would be a neurotically overprotective mother but who is fearful of upsetting her children and overcompensates (read: spoils) in various areas of their lives.

Am I little guilty of hovering over my kids? I wish I could square my shoulders and say that I would never do such a thing. But the truth is that I’m just a tat guilty. I’m not guilty of spoiling them or trying to predict and fill their every desire but because of our circumstances I may be a little overcautious but please allow me to plead my case.

Forgive me if I cringe whenever we are at the playground (or any other uncontrolled environment) and your child who doesn’t know my baby has a life threatening peanut allergy offers my daughter a bite. And please be understanding when you call to invite my kids over for a play date if I ask if you have cats, dogs or birds because my baby has asthma.

Under normal circumstances, I would like to think that I’m not a helicopter mom. I don’t spoil my children with toys and clothes and do my best parent them without clinging or overprotecting. But when it comes to my babies’ safety, you had better just get out of the way because this aircraft has a flight plan that will rock your world and for this mission I refuse to apologize.

GREEN PARENTING TIPS

When I started this blog I wanted to focus on sharing green parenting tips. My goal was to turn the lot of you into eco-friendly parents in 10 Easy Steps or less. As so many of you know, it’s easy to run to the end of the thread of your subject and be jerked backwards only to fall on your butt. Why I thought I could give advice to others at a time when I was completely overwhelmed with parenting a very sick child is beyond me. In between emergencies, I did manage to offer some advice but I feel I must apologize for those days when I ventured off the course or didn't post at all.

The reason I feel so very guilty for neglecting my duties here is perhaps because
I can look back into my own childhood and see where no care whatsoever was given to isolating me and my sisters (and to be fair the other kids I knew) from pesticides or noxious fumes blowing out of a nearby factory. I tend to blame overexposure to chemicals for a healthy portion of my troubles in life. Granted I have been guilty of meandering off the course with the occasional recipe and rant but I am still driven to not only improve the air quality and the environment of my own home but to help guide others with as many green parenting tips as I can churn out.

Some of the posts I’ve made in this blog were made when my daughter was very sick and it gave me a place to vent my fears and share my pain. I was tempted to go back and delete old posts whose content is no longer relevant or start a new blog altogether and delete this one that displays my struggle to stay on topic.

These days my husband is the sickest one of the bunch and is engaged in a battle with staph which hopefully he will win. I look forward to the day that I can write about how the posts that I made during that health crisis are no longer important. On that note, I believe that I'll keep this blog intact, because moms still leave comments about what they are going through with their child’s peanut allergy, asthma or MRSA plus someday I would like for my girls to be able to read what mommy said about their early lives and to know that I was more focused on them at times than I was on posting green parenting tips on Oooh Baby Green Living and Parenting Ideas.

I don't know how I do it

Hey there, blog. How have you been? Me? Oh, I've been a little bit busy. I'm working on a new/old endeavor. I have two kids who won't give me a moment's peace. I have a husband who travels extensively for work, leaving me with even less peace than I would normally get.

(If you're playing along at home, we would be up to 0% peace. Scratch that, .5% peace. Sometimes I lock myself in the bathroom and wait for the savages to stop beating on the door and begging for snacks/television/books/someone to wipe their butt. It's called "Self Preservation".)

My family and I, we make it through the day the best we can and some days that best is not so good. But funny enough, friends and acquaintances, upon hearing about my group blog or latest trips Mr. C has taken that require him to away from home about 75% of the time (true story - in the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, my husband was gone something like 16 out of 21 days. Yeah, that month sucked.) say to me, "I don't know how you do it."

Want to know my secret, how I "do it"?

The dishes are basically done...
Except for the stack next to the sink that never seems to get smaller.

And the house is reasonably clean.
Just don't look under the couch. Or in the corners. And pay no mind to the pet hair stuck to the furniture. And for the love of Pete, DON'T LOOK BEHIND THAT CLOSED DOOR.

The kids are well taken care of...
When was the last time I gave them a bath?

and are well fed.
I always serve vegetables with their boxed mac and cheese. And sometimes they eat them.

And occasionally, after everyone is cared for, fed and put to bed...
Please sleep through the night for once, baby. Mama is begging here.

the pets are attended to and medication is dolled out...
When was the last time the dogs had a walk? And is that the cat box I smell??

emails are sent...
Only five people I forgot to email in the past week? Not bad!

toys are picked up...
thrown in a box/kicked under the couch/thrown in the trash.

phone calls are made...
Damn, when was the last time I spoke to my Nana?

and I've written something for my other blog and attended to that business...
So what if I stay up until midnight to get things done? That's why coffee was invented. WEEEE!

I get some time to relax and take care of myself.
Work out? Psssh. How about five minutes with wine and Nutella? That's, er, not too unhealthy.

But is that really any worse than how most have it? Sure, most parents I know have another spouse around to help out but that's not my life right now. Mr. C has to travel for work and that's not going to change any time soon so we make do the best we can with the time we have. We're surviving, it's not optimal but, in the immortal words of Tim Gunn, we make it work. And if that means feeling incredibly guilty for wanting to have an evening out with friends, so guilty that it leaves a slight black mark on the occasion for me, or putting off that yoga class I want to take because going means less time together as a family...

Bottom line? This time in our lives kind of sucks. Not entirely - the kids are great, Mr. C and I are happy together and at least one of us has a job that put food on our table and keeps a roof over our heads - but life is difficult right now. However, I get by knowing it won't always be like this and I am buoyed but the fact that I'm not alone. Um, right?

In the meantime, there's caffeine and chocolate. Now I only wish I could find them. Maybe they're under the dishes...

Parenting Independent Children

I can tell you from experience that parenting independent children is more of a challenge than raising people pleasers. I have a few of each so I know of what I speak. After studying nature versus nurture in school, I thought I had it all figured out until I had kids of my own. After venturing forth into the hands-on experience of actual child rearing, my thinking is that each baby comes here pre-programmed and while some behaviors can be tempered the basic character of a child is hard wired.

My daughters all have different temperaments. Two are shy and eager to please and the other two are rowdy, outspoken and at times, bull headed. I'm here to tell you that parenting independent children is a challenge. I believe that all of my girls are capable of being self sufficient and doing wonderful things in their lifetime even though the odds have been stacked heavily against two of them with chronic illnesses.

Oddly enough the one who has suffered the most is showing the strongest leadership capabilities. She is the one who calls the shots for the group's activities each day. Even though she is not the oldest or the strongest she has won the respect and admiration of the other three by handling herself with dignity that amazes even me.
Watching my girls take care of things because they have decided that I must be tired from taking care of their sick dad (which if you've visited Family Recipes, Babies and Parenting Issues you know about our recent trials and tribulations) or have a lot going on makes me feel like an expert on parenting independent children or at least at giving birth to them.

Parenting Styles

I had an excellent opportunity to get a good look at my siblings parenting styles over Thanksgiving and I'm certain that I'll get another taste during the Christmas and New Year's holidays. I'm one to resist spewing parenting advice to others for the simple reason that no matter what the kids do at home, there is really no way of knowing what they will do when they are in public.

Long story short, Thursday night I broke my own rule of not becoming involved. No, one of the cousins did not whack one of my girls on the head or try to sneak peanuts to my baby with a severe peanut allergy. The little darling disrespected my mom's home.

I didn't lose control and even managed not to criticize my sister's severely relaxed parenting style but I just could not keep my mouth shut. She was raised in the same house as I was with the same values and to see her let her child get away with a level of destructive behavior that we never would have been caught dead practicing under the darkest cover of darkness or under a cloak of anonymity, much less in the middle of a family gathering in full daylight was just too much.

To give you some background, mom has had the same living room furniture all my life. On her birthday we pooled our resources and bought her a new set of end tables and a coffee table challenging dad to buy a sofa, chair and loveseat which he did. Thursday was her day to show the completed room off and you could tell that she was so very proud.

I reminded my girls to mind their manners and keep food at the table and to play outside as did all of my brothers and sisters EXCEPT for the one who believes in a loose and indulgent style of parenting. Things started out alright and then her little boy got rowdy and thought it was a good idea to stand on the coffee table, jump on the new sofa and break a lamp. After each incident, the expected admonishment never arrived.

Finally, after the lamp crashed to the floor. I took matters into my own hands and told the little boy to get outside with the other children and pulled my sister aside to give her a piece of my mind. She proceeded to give me a rundown of her preferred style of child-rearing and how she wanted her child to have freedom to make his own choices to build his self-esteem. Parenting styles and self esteem be hanged, that was my mother's house and I shared a piece of my mind and shared a little unappreciated advice with her on how to discipline her son.

Was I wrong in the way I handled the situation? I would appreciate it if those of you who visit Family Recipes, Babies and Parenting Issues would give me a little advice before the family Christmas get-together.

KIDS and SPORTS INJURIES

Kids and sports injuries have always fit like a hand in glove. In my neighborhood there is always a child getting hit by a ball, breaking an arm at football practice or spraining an ankle. As the mother of four girls who love to play cheerleader and tumble, the news that school gym injuries are jumping in numbers gives me cause for concern. The reason given for the increase is that schools are pushing kids to get up off their butts and get some exercise in an effort to DECREASE the numbers of obese children. And I’m all for getting kids off the couch and away from too much television not to mention preventing them from wearing out their little hands playing video games but get a load of these numbers and wait for it because there’s a shocker in the numbers.


In a recent study the numbers from a study on kids and sports injuries from the National Electronic Injury Surveillance System from the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission (is that a mouthful?) were the big tip off. For the period that covered eleven years, over four hundred thousand kids were injured during PE (physical education or Phys ed as we used to call it in the dark ages) and taken for treatment at the emergency room. This number increased 150% over the course of the study. The largest number of injuries was associated with six school activities. Not surprisingly, the usual contact sports were culprits. Of course, football and basketball are on the list and I would have been amazed if they were absent. And there were a few of the less physical sports on the list like soccer, gymnastics and volleyball. But then, hold on… RUNNING is on the list.


I ran junior high track and then went on to high school so I paid my dues as did many of my friends and frankly I can’t remember an injury or sprain that couldn’t be iced down on the spot with the athlete sent limping to the sidelines to rest up. My question is this, have kids gotten so out of shape that they can’t even run without having to hit the ER?

Please leave your comments or experiences regarding Parenting Kids and Sports Injuries before my oldest leaves for kindergarten!

Dangers of Baby Slings

I am announcing my intentions to ignore the dangers of baby slings that I have seen mentioned in various consumer reports recently. Being a cautious person by nature, I take each and every study that comes out very seriously and have the utmost respect for the integrity of said reports and the professionals who oversee and conduct them. However, this time I’m taking a few grains of salt with the results of the baby sling report.

For those who are considering this valuable attachment parenting device, the study states that in a time frame of the past five years there have been at least four babies who died from being carried in baby slings. And there are even more reported incidences of injuries to babies’ heads, skull fractures and bruises and contusions.

Most of the problems occurred when the babies tumbled out of the sling. To that, I have to reply that I have carried three (soon to be four) newborns in ring slings and have not had one fall out of the carrier yet! I do not jog, cook or do aerobics while carrying an infant in a sling. The moments are rare when my arms have not been wrapped around my babies when they are inside the sling carrier or wrap. It is my opinion that perhaps the dangers of baby slings have more to do with learning the lack of skill and common sense of the user than the danger of using a sling.

The study goes on to say that there are no safety standards for baby slings and I agree that since many moms believe it's alright to make your own baby sling using free patterns that they find on the internet that there is room for error. But again, in my opinion, that fact alone doesn’t make them dangerous.

The truth is that any squirming baby can wiggle out of your arms if you are not careful. I’m not telling anybody to take risks when parenting their babies. But, a little common sense goes a long way when assessing the dangers of baby slings.

By all means pick a safe baby carrier with a good track record and before you put your baby in any stroller, carrier or swing; learn how to use the thing. The same dangers of baby slings apply to any kind of baby gear, gadget or seat. Practice with a baby doll, read the owner’s manual and learn how to use the belts, straps and restraints before using the product with a real infant. And perhaps the best advice I can give to new mothers is to never allow yourself to become distracted by anything when caring for your baby. Make a solemn vow to not let anything short of a nuclear explosion pull your attention away because in my experience, the little sweethearts know the exact moment that you are not watching and will take that opportunity to injure themselves or their siblings. And nothing is worth sacrificing the safety of your precious child.

Return to Oooh Baby Baby Parenting and Environmental Issues to see more of my opinions on expert studies.

How to Help Children Cope with Death

I’m at the computer for therapy as well as to search for clues on how to help children cope with death. The signs are there, the appetite is failing, the meds have obliterated that cutting wit and at times over the top but always entertaining personality.

As far as I’m concerned, the stages of grief kicked off for me between the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. I give thanks to the Lord every night (and during the day when I can’t stop my mind from drifting in that direction) that it wasn’t in his plan to take her to be with him during that time and that we were given one more holiday season where we were once again shamed by her acute sense of knowing what the perfect gift for each and every child might be.

Now, I’m fielding requests from the kids wanting to know why I’m going to visit and they aren’t included. After telling them that the reason is that she’s in the hospital, their reaction was that she needed their comfort and company even more so than when she was at home. I’m at a lost as to how to help the children cope with death since coping with death is not something that I’m so very good at myself.

Maybe the way to cope is not to cope at all, but just to do what we can do to stay busy and productive. Making kids feel productive is a pretty tall order. They want to feel that they are doing something to help. The oldest said she wanted to make cookies so I picked up a tube of chocolate chip cookie dough and let her slice them and put them on the cookie sheet. I suggested to the littlest one that it might be a good idea to draw a picture for me to decorate the walls of the hospital room and as I’m typing she’s enthusiastically drawing a picture of a purple cat because according to her, purple is such a happy color.

If purple kitty cats and burned cookies are helping the children cope with death who am I to question the results?

Return to Oooh Baby Baby Parenting and Environmental Issues to read more of my learning experiences in dealing with what life throws at you while raising kids.