Bullying On the Playground of Life

I started writing this post months ago when my then-7th grader was being bullied by a girl half her size.  This girl at school was doing things like cutting pieces of Vena's hair, taking her shoes and throwing them across the classroom, throwing her homework in the trash, and berating my daughter every chance she got.

I've had another kid boss one of my girls to give her answers to her homework and then turn the other girls on her, telling them not to play with Abby.

My son had his share of problems when he was little, but figured out pretty early on how to deal with it.    As a junior in high school, he has a section leader (band) that he's had a hard time dealing with this semester, however.  The guy even pushed him and has been verbally abusive.  Daymon has just had to ignore him and stay out of his way.  It's really affected how he feels about band this year.

My youngest doesn't like to take treats in her school lunches because there's a girl who always takes them from her.

So, like most families, we have this constant conversation at our house about what is acceptable behavior and what is not.  The whole "treat others as you want to be treated" just doesn't pan out sometimes.  You can be the nicest person on the planet and sometimes people are just jerks.

We have noticed a theme with children that bully:  they are either only-children or they have a dysfunctional family life.  With the first category, I realize that all only-children are not bullies, but several of the bullies in our life have been.  They have been poor communicators and do not have conflict resolution skills.  They often get whatever they want at home and make fun of my kids who have to share the majority of what they have.  (I'm so sick of "Why can't I have my own iPad like fill-in-the-blank?")

The second category is more difficult.  These are the kids you would normally feel sorry for if they weren't such brats.  They are likely bullied at home by either their parents or older siblings.  This may be a rough analogy, but my favorite show is "Criminal Minds" on CBS.  By the end of the program, I find myself feeling sorry for the "unsub" because his childhood was so rough, it's no wonder he became a sociopath. And yet, he's despicable for all the bad things he did.  That's how I feel about some of these kids.

People who are bullied do become adults.  If they never learn to stand up for themselves, they either keep being bullied or become angry, depressed, or resentful.   I hope all children who are bullied are able to grow up, find their voice, and realize that the problem lies with the bully, not with the one who is bullied. They have to have people in their lives who tell them they are awesome though -- people who boost them up and help them see their worth.

My 11-year-old says, "You never lose a friend, you just figure out who the real ones are."  She's so smart.  She has awesome self-esteem and is still often treated awfully by some of the girls at school. She is able to let it roll off her though.  I am so proud of her and her maturity in dealing with these snotty girls.

So what about those girls on the playground that made other girls do what they wanted them to?  The ones who said that if you were friends with someone they didn't like, they wouldn't be friends with you?  We all dealt with that as kids!  Not much changes as adults, apparently.  Not long ago, I was told what Facebook pages I should and shouldn't "like"! I also know adults that have literally been told who they can and cannot be friends with by their supposed friends.  Can you imagine an adult telling another adult who they can and can't be friends with?!
   

I believe this topic is so relevant in our lives, no matter our age or the age of our children, or even our parents. Why do people like to boss other people?  It must make them feel powerful where they feel powerless in other areas of their lives.  They have to manipulate others because they have no control over their lives, compulsions, or addictions.  It's like the abusive husband that makes his wife think it's her fault he keeps hitting her.  She keeps coming back apologizing because she shouldn't have worn that dress, or made that expression, or said what she thought.  She deserved to be punched -- physically or verbally -- or so he makes her believe.

This translates over to birth.  Women are bullied into cesarean birth like never before.  They are bullied by doctors, nurses, friends, mothers, etc.   They may want an entirely different birth but don't want to disappoint the people around them.  They lack the self esteem to say "NO!  This is my life, my baby, and my body.  I will make my own decisions, like I expect you to make your own decisions.  I'm not telling you how to live your life -- please give me the same respect."

This all boils down to self-esteem.  If you are bullied, you lack the self-esteem to say STOP!  If you are a bully, your lack of self-esteem is evident because knocking others down makes you feel better about yourself.

I've worked with hundreds of women over the years and I believe many of them would make different choices in many areas of their lives if they had good self-esteem.  In the few months since starting training women as natural childbirth educators, it's been amazing to work with women and seeing them develop confidence in themselves.  It has been awesome!

Winston Churchill once stated, "Do your worst - we'll do our best."  I never want to be known as a bully, but rather someone who lifted people up and helped them become better people, reaching their full potential.  I want my children to be better than me.  I want the instructors I am training for Birth Boot Camp to be better than me.

If you are being bullied, you are worth so much more!  If it's too hard to stand up to the bullies, walk away from them.  Don't crawl back.  It's better to stand alone than to let yourself be put under by someone who wants to control you.   Like my very wise daughter says, "You never lose a friend - you figure out who the real ones are."

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Confessions of a Former Babywise Advocate

 A few years ago I had a mom in class that asked a lot of questions about Baby Wise vs. Attachment Parenting and it spurred me to write a blog post on the topic.  Fast forward 2 1/2 years and this same mom wants to become a Birth Boot Camp Instructor.  I knew she had "done" Baby Wise with her baby and that is not what Birth Boot Camp teaches.  She came clean and told me her story of scheduling her 1st baby and practicing Attachment Parenting with baby #2.   Thank you, Rachel, for sharing your story here.

"I am writing this post in hopes that I can encourage mothers in the art of mothering. I prepared for my first birth like many moms. Regular prenatal care, vitamin supplementation, proper protein, reading birth books, taking natural childbirth classes, and making a birth plan were all a part of the wonderful anticipation of being a mother for the first time.

We all receive tons of unsolicited advice when expecting, don't we? It may come from family and friends, but some times complete strangers at the check out, checking you out, nodding their head) saying, "So.... when are you due; pretty soon, huh?" I first heard of "Baby Wise" in line at a check out, then from a friend who it to me. I put it on my list to read along with all the other books Donna had us reading for class. 

One thing about me is, my personality lends itself to a schedule.  I like having a game plan and being in control. My mother always motivated me with check lists and it actually worked. I used to put things on the list I had already done, just so I could check them off and see the accomplishments. Yes, I am one of those "A-type" people. This may have been because I was a first born, or because of the influence of my mother who was a first born, or just because that's my God given organized personality. Any how, when seeking a plan for my firstborn, I went ahead and read "Baby Wise" because I had heard a baby needed to be on a schedule.

Our first born daughter was born at home! So, we got the unmedicated, natural birth we had planned for and loved the experience. I remember saying to my husband, directly after birth, "If that is how birth is, than we can have lots more kids!" I had my husband, midwives, their assistants, my doula, and our new baby all in my master bathroom at the time of her birth. I believe there were nine in all.

She latched on to nurse like a pro just after birth. She loved her sling, "The Over the Shoulder Baby Holder". After much research, we decided not to vaccinate at all. My two main goals were to exclusively breastfeed our baby for the first year and to have her sleeping through the night by at least 10 weeks. What was I thinking!!! What I did not know at first was that my two goals were diametrically opposed. I went on believing that if I scheduled her and followed the eat, wake, sleep pattern like what the "Baby Wise" book said, I could have the best of both worlds. "Baby Wise" made us think that if I we were going to be wise parents, we would follow a written schedule.

I live my born-again life with integrity towards God. 1 Corinthians 15:3b-4 "Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures; And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures." I believe a life worth living is found only in knowing and serving Jesus Christ. I love my husband and we both wanted to give our daughter the very best. Unfortunately, we were misinformed. 

It is true that a baby can sleep through the night at 8 weeks, can move to a crib in his/her own room at 6 weeks, can be a happy baby, and can nurse well for a while. I know because mine did. If there was ever a "just like the book baby" it was Alayna. Her patterns of eat/wake/sleep were exactly as the book said they would be. When she went "off her schedule," this is what we call now going through growth spurts, teething, or crying. Sadly, we looked in the book to see what to do for her, as if it were an all purpose magical baby users manuel. I hate to say it, but it's true. People stopped me all the time to tell me what a sweet, happy baby she was. They told me she was an easy baby and I was "lucky" to have her sleeping through the night so soon. She was very contented and seemed to be thriving in every way we knew of at that time until she was 7 months old.

I began seeing her demand for more milk and I was not producing enough to satisfy her. Up till then, nursing had been wonderful for us, but I soon realized that her metabolism was geared for large amounts of food at set intervals and that my milk supply was hindered by scheduling. It made my body so rhythmic that it would not let down until a certain time had lapsed. Unlike demand feeding, where a child communicates hunger and mother's milk is always there ready to flow! We were both getting so frustrated. She was hungry and unhappy and I was worried my dreams were vanishing. I went out and bought the best pump I could find. I had never tried a pump before until she was 8 months old. While this did help my supply a little, it turned out to be a big pain. I was nursing my daughter on schedule and tied down to a pump the rest of the time. I began realizing that my 2 goals were not compatible. I wish I had known that exclusive demand feedings at the breast were the most healthy and natural way to go. Sure I was told, but I had not experienced the freedom from a schedule yet.

I shared my frustrations with a close friend who recommended us visit her "Natural Doctor" in Houston, TX. My husband and I prayed about it and decided to get some professional help. We had never been to a Wellness Doctor before. Dr. Hopkins at CWA taught us many things about wellness, healthy eating, nursing, and how our bodies work best eating foods designed for us specifically. I was given whole food supplements to strengthen and richen my milk supply. He taught us and challenged us not to schedule our daughter anymore. In time a demand nursed baby will find his/her own routine that promotes his/her individual health. We prayed some more and chose to put a fresh priority on our baby's optimum health. We quit "Baby Wise" thinking and stepped out in faith to the unknown world of possibilities available through what the book calls, "Attachment Parenting!" My husband and I tried to un-schedule our 10 month old. The most surprising thing happened. I could not, try as I might, to un-schedule her. It was the hardest thing in the world, but I was able to get off the breast pump and go back to just nursing her for another 4 months. Proverbs 13:20 "He that walketh with wise men shall be wise:" I am so thankful for the true wisdom of our Christian Doctor.

It was so impossible to unschedule our scheduled baby. For 8 months out of 10, that schedule had become such a part of her we could not separate the two. I am sad to say, she only knew life through the "glasses" of a schedule. She was quite addicted to it. I mean, if she did not have meals at set times her sugar levels would plummet. With it, came crashing down tears and unrest. If we were away from home during "nap time" she would have a melt down. She seemed to "need" her schedule for weeks and months after we took it away. The regular ups and downs of daily living without a schedule were hard on her at first. It was not until she weaned herself at 14 months (too early for me) that we really saw full improvement in her ability to enjoy life to it's fullest. Who knows how long she may have nursed if we had never introduced a schedule?  Her mood swings went away and her over all health improved by 94% from her first check up with Dr. Hopkins at 10 months old.

I always felt very attached to my baby, but compared to my second born, she was actually too independent.  I would even say, she was unattached emotionally and we didn't even know what we were missing.  I am grateful our 3-year-old has recovered, but we will never have those early years to do over again.

After our second home birth, we talked about how, in some ways, it would be like parenting for the first time all over again. I was looking forward to guilt-free co-sleeping! I loved it and we got better rest than we did following "Baby Wise".  My husband cherished more time with our baby in our bed than I had ever dreamed possible. And because we were doing many things more naturally like demand-feeding, it was easy to go on dates. We were not on a time schedule dependent on when the baby would need to be in bed . 

Hannah nursed exclusively for 12 months and 1 week. Around 13 months we bought a king size bed to accommodate for needed space. I did not want space to be the reason to move her out of our bed before she was ready. She still nurses on demand and loves snuggling in her sling at 18 months old. I had never allowed myself the privilege of napping with my first baby in my bed, so I made up for it with our second. She stayed in our bed at night for over a year and then occasionally on an as-needed basis. She was still in our room in a pack-and-play until one particular night when she motioned "up, up" to the old out-of-use crib in her sister's room. Now that Hannah is 18 months old she sleeps in her own bed in her big sister's room because she wants to do things just liked Alayna. If she is sick and needs to nurse more frequently she knows she is always welcome back with us.

Recognizing that God has called me to function as His agent defines my task as a mother. Ibelieve our culture and "Baby Wise" have reduced parenting to providing care. Parents often see the task in these narrow terms. The child must have food, clothes, a bed and some quality time. In sharp contrast to such a weak view, God has called me to a more profound task than being a care-provider.

Mothering is a pervasive task. It does not end even when we are sleeping. In our homes we need to parent our children in God's behalf. Whether waking, walking, talking, singing, resting, or nursing, I must be involved in helping my children to understand life, herself and her needs from a biblical perspective. The best advice I can leave with you for mothering comes from Deuteronomy 6:5-7 "And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up." 

The task God has given me is NOT one that can be conveniently SCHEDULED."

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Another Old Lady Post -- Featuring Trace Adkins

There's always a couple of things that happen during the week that spark an idea for the weekly blog post.  The first was a question one of my former students posed on her Facebook page about letting her seven-week-old baby cry to sleep.  The other was a conversation with an old friend.

Remember when you were in the grocery store and an older woman stopped you and told you to enjoy your babies while they are little?  One day they will be grown and you'll wonder where the time has gone.  Alisa (yes, the Alisa that sparked my journey towards natural birth) and I were talking about this yesterday -- how we couldn't really grasp what the "old" lady was saying at the time.  But now, well, it's happening.  Neither of us have little babies and toddlers at home at anymore.  They are all in school.

I was telling my 15-year-old this week that if he could just see the big picture, he would probably do things a little differently.  I told him even at 25, I'm not sure I could see it.  At nearly 41, I'm seeing the big picture a bit clearer.

My 50-something-year-old cousin -- a prison guard -- made this comment on his Wall this week:  I remember as a parent, a swat across the butt would get their attention. Now as a grandparent a hug gets their hearts....and mine. I've finally figured out that their hearts are more important than their attention. I guess the old saying is true...by the time you are old enough to be a grandparent, you are mature enough to be a parent.

I'm not quite there yet - thankfully - but I'm seeing what the "old" people are talking about.  When Darcy was still small enough to hold, maybe 3 or so, I told her that one day I wouldn't be able to hold her anymore.  She got real sad and refused to believe that was true.  We went one by one through the other kids and I asked her if she ever sees me carry them.  At the time, the only one taller than me was my son.  The image of me carrying him around made Darcy giggle.  She's tried to stay small, but it's not working out!  She's almost 7 now, and needless to say, I can't carry her anymore.



I have a house with bigger kids now.  Two of my kids are taller than me now.  They all go to sleep on their own and sleep through the night.  They can mostly take care of themselves.  Darcy still needs some help, but it's readily available by other people besides just me.  I can leave the house by myself almost whenever I need to.  Rarely do I have someone sitting on my lap.  I don't get to read to anyone much anymore now that they all can do that on their own.   The slings I carried them in are all tucked neatly away in their baby buckets.



My point?  These phases that we are in -- even the ones that seem like they will last forever -- don't.  They will end.  Every day we make memories and lay a foundation.  Hold your babies.  You cannot spoil them.  I do think you can "spoil" an older child, but that's a story for another day!  A baby's needs and wants are the same thing.

I keep telling myself,  "This too shall pass" with the 15-year-old, but unfortunately, I've got 3 more right behind him!  Ha!  I'll do my best to follow my own advice and love them, enjoy this time, knowing it won't last forever.  I wish the baby phase back -- not sure I'll wish for the teenage years back though!

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Baby "Milestones" are Stupid

I received a message from one of my former students today in distress over her family comparing her baby to her sister's baby, who is just two weeks younger. I have a feeling a lot of us can relate to this.

"I'm starting to receive concern from family members about Ellie being slow to hit milestones. She is a happy, alert, curious baby, but she does not sit unassisted yet, and she is nowhere near crawling. She is 7 1/2 months old. Of course all the concerned people are trying to figure out why she is "delayed" and pointing fingers at: too much breastfeeding, lack of solid food, the fact that she doesn't sleep in her own room or know how to "self-soothe," or the fact that I carry her too much.

I doubt everyone would be so concerned, except that Ellie is being directly compared to her cousin (my sister's baby) who is exactly 2 weeks younger. He has been sitting and crawling for weeks, and now he is starting to pull up on furniture to a standing position. He is formula-fed, started solids at 4 months, and was trained to sleep in his own crib (in his own room). My sister is also careful not to pick him up "too much" so as not to "spoil" him. So those methods now look more successful than my methods.

Anyway, I just wondered if you had a blog post about this (or maybe if you wanted to write one!), or if you had any other info about it, so that I could send a link or something to the relatives that are bugging me."

Give that boy a ribbon!  Oh wait, the ribbon goes to the mom, right?

When my first baby was little, I remember comparing him to every baby that was remotely close to his age.  The only thing he did "early" was sit up.  He was 5 months old and fat as could be.  He looked like a bowling ball.  I think that is the only reason he did sit up!  I was so relieved when he got his first tooth at 9 months.  He finally started crawling at 10 months.  In fact, my earliest crawler was 9 months.  Of four children, my earliest walker was 13 months.

As you could probably guess, my babies, like this mama's baby, were all carried extensively in the sling.  I was constantly talking to them.  They were learning language and engaged in all kinds of  activities they otherwise probably wouldn't have been from a stroller or car seat.

I have read -- and maybe this was made up by someone who wanted to make parents of "slow" babies feel better -- that babies who do things later tend to be soaking up more around them.  They tend to speak sooner and often more clearly.  I do think that when they are engaged in whatever activity their caregiver is engaged in, they are preoccupied.  When they are left "alone" they find ways to occupy themselves, often finding out what their body can do.  This is so not true of some babies and I'll probably incite a riot with that statement.   Babies who do things early are more focused on doing than learning.   Like I said, I have no idea if that has any merit whatsoever.  As we all know, babies are all so different.  They do things when they are ready.

I was concerned about one of my kids being dyslexic when she was small.  I took her in and they wouldn't even give me the time of day.  They said at that age  -- she was about pre-K -- the spectrum was enormous.  They said by 3rd grade that gap narrows significantly. 

I've always felt like, who cares if one kid can read at 4, or crawl at 6 months, or eat solid food at 4 months, or walk at 12 months!  It doesn't mean they are smarter or better than the next kid.  It also doesn't mean that you are a better mom!  Once they are talking, walking, feeding themselves, swinging on the swings, playing tag on the playground, playing video games, Facebooking with their friends, and downloading music on their ipod, no one cares about these milestones.  It's like due dates.   40 weeks is an estimated time of arrival.  As we know, it means little. 

Ultimately, those milestones, in my opinion, are kinda stupid.  I think a mom knows when something is not right.  Those milestones, like fetal kick counts, make a mom super paranoid, almost always unnecessarily.  If you do feel that something is not quite right, visit with your pediatrician about your concerns.  Follow your gut, but not what the kid next door is doing!  Don't compare your baby with other babies.  For that matter, don't compare your teenager with other teenagers!

A couple of years ago I had to tell one of my students to put the books away and just focus on her baby.  She was making herself crazy with all the things her baby should be doing, or parenting exactly the way the book said was the right way.  At some point, you have to just look at you, your kid, and your situation and do what works for your family.  Some things sound great in a book but just don't play out that way in your real life.  I experienced this quite a bit with my babies. 

As for my former student's message?  I feel bad for the other kid.  He's not getting breastmilk, he's choking down solid food, not getting held nearly as much as his cousin, and he sleeps alone.  Follow your instincts, Mama!  You are doing a fabulous job.  And your baby is so lucky to be parented with so much love.

For the record, none of my kids read at the age of 4, but they all read now.

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My Christmas Letter -- In Blog Form

I had a friend ask me a while back if I thought if a good birth - or "bad" - made you feel closer - or further - from that child.  There was a time when I might have said yes, but I do have the perspective that time sometimes gives us, now that my children are older. 

I don't need to rehash the births of my children, but my 2nd birth was my most emotional.  I felt so excited that I had accomplished my goal of an unmedicated birth.  I won't say it was my best, but I definitely experienced that "birth high" that we sometimes read about.  She did not look like my baby though.  She was dark skinned with pitch black curly hair.  People always asked me if my husband was "ethnic."  She is now 12 years old, and while our relationship is probably better now than it has ever been, she has always preferred her Daddy.  We have had very little in common and our relationship has frequently been somewhat forced.  She is very serious and has an intense moral compass.  She loves to write and remembers everything I've ever said, which has often come back to haunt me!

My first baby (now 14), on the other hand, looked just like me and my side of the family when he was born.  Still does.  I was always close with him and thought that I could love no child as much as I loved him.  I had an epidural for his birth.  I do not feel that it had any bearing on how I felt about him.  Of course, now finishing up his freshman year of high school, he thinks we are total idiots.  His friends are more important than his family and music is the center of the universe both playing it and listening to it. 

My 3rd pregnancy, labor, and birth were all the hardest.  Abby constantly had her foot in my ribs. The harder I pushed at her foot, the harder she pushed back.  It was the only pregnancy we did not plan.  This child was determined to get here!  Between you and me, I have the strongest connection with #3 (now 10 years old).  She looks nothing like me (dark olive skin and dark hair), but I have the most in common with her.  She has been, and continues to be, the best conversationalist.  In fact, she's the most mature of the entire family!  She's organized, self-motivated, has great "style" (which makes her fashion-conscious Daddy proud), is confident, and has a great sense of humor.  She should have been born the oldest because she would have been a great babysitter.  Currently, and formerly, she is very un-babysittable, taking direction and instruction from no one, mainly her big brother and sister.

Darcy (6) was probably my "easiest" birth and we've always been good.  No complaints.  She is my mini-me.  She's a firecracker and just lights our home with non-stop excitement!  We've had a good, solid connection since she was born.

So, the answer to the question?  No, I think our children's births are often more about us than it is about them. I will say that how their personalities were in the womb is very much how they have been out of the womb.  Daymon was constantly in motion, I hardly ever felt Vena move, Abby constantly made her presence known, and Darcy just always went with the flow. 

As I re-read over this post, I realized that a lot of what I wrote was similar to my Christmas letter, which I've been told over the years, is so brutally honest, it's everyone's favorite!  I hope you enjoyed a little slice of my crazy children's personalities and what I endure day in and day out!

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Facebook - Why I'm Glad it Wasn't Around When My Kids Were Little

What an exciting week it's been in the land of Facebook!  The natural birth community has been under attack by some very bored women as of late.  I've been thinking about this topic and post for a couple of weeks now, and then with all the drama this week, I decided it was time.

If you read my blog regularly, you know that there is often a bit of controversy surrounding some of my posts.  Some, I understand why, and others, frankly, I've been baffled at the hype. (Like the "My Epidural" Post.  It was shared nearly 500 times!  Seriously?)   A couple of weeks ago I was worked up over something on Facebook -- I don't even remember what now -- and things that snowballed afterwards.  It's all I talked about all week long.  My house fell apart, as I spent literally hours in front of my computer screen or constantly checking my itouch for new "developments."  My husband was ready to freak out, and he's not a freak-out kind of guy!  I just felt consumed with... with... with the topic, with Facebook, my blog. 

It's hard to remember life before Facebook.  In case you haven't realized, I have a highly addictive personality.  I typically don't do things in moderation.  Take my love of Tim McGraw.  This summer I'll be seeing him for the 13th and 14th times.  I won't tell you how much money has been spent on concert tickets and airline tickets traveling to see Tim over the years! (This year I'm traveling to OK and Indianapolis to see him!)   I can't seem to drink just one can of Diet Dr. Pepper or Mountain Dew.  Again, I'll spare you the details.

There have been periods where I have found my life consumed with what my next Facebook status will read.  Do you do that, too?!  Please say yes.  Something funny will happen and I'll think, "I've gotta put this on Facebook."  Or a picture taken.  It really is the weirdest thing.

David took me to Cancun for my 40th birthday in January, and while there, I didn't touch my cell phone and had no internet.  It was bliss!  I read a book -- which I never do unless it's related to childbirth -- and if it weren't for the ending, would have really enjoyed it!  David and I talked about things unrelated to what was happening on the internet and were in the here-and-how.  What a concept.

I guess I've just been thinking lately about how grateful I am that Facebook and blogging were not around when my kids were little.  All my kids are in school now, so Facebook is mostly a time-suck for me.  My kids aren't terribly effected by my time on Facebook.  I constantly wonder how these moms do it that have little kids at home.  Many of them are commenting everywhere all the time.  When I spend a lot of time Facebooking or blogging, my house really does fall apart.  The dishes pile up, dinner doesn't get made, and the laundry doesn't get hung.  I just can't live like that and a mess makes me crazy.

And yet, it's totally addictive.  It's hard to walk away.  I have a couple of friends that took themselves off Facebook for lengthy periods of time, and I must say, I admire their commitment to their families, and their sanity!  Frankly, I don't want to turn off Facebook and blogging.  I enjoy it.  I finally had to limit the blog posts to just one a week, and that has been helpful.  (I usually write it on Saturday or Sunday night after the kids have gone to bed.)  I hope this doesn't sound like a guilt post.  But it has been on my mind lately. I think it should be addressed and talked about.  Are we addicted to Facebook, email, blogs, and texting?  Does it cause us to miss out on the here-and-now?

I am never ever going to win a mom-of-the-year award -- ever -- but we did have fun when the kids were little.  I didn't have a cell phone until the older 3 were all in school.  I wasn't texting or talking to anyone other than them when we left the house.  We didn't have a DVD player in the car - still don't - so the car tends to be where we have always done the most talking.  Our best conversations, and often the most important ones, have taken place while we are driving. 

We did lots of "field trips" and play dates and play groups.  When we were there, we were really there, in the moment.  No one was texting back then and Facebook certainly wasn't around.  In fact, no one had internet on their phone back then.  I was always scared to get a cell phone - I was 34 before I finally got one - because I am fully aware of my addictive personality.  I knew I would like to have one.  In fact, I've made plans to get an iphone next month, and I am scared to death.

I learned to can, or bottle, all sorts of foods when my kids were little.  Salsa, chicken, beans, beef.  That has been an invaluable skill for me and saved my family a lot of money over the years.  (I just canned 75 pounds of chicken during all the snow and ice we had in February.  Again with the moderation!)  I learned to garden (That was in NM "soil," not TX clay!) and the kids helped.

I remember our bedtime routines were lengthy back then.  Maybe it's because there were so many I had to help, but it seems that it went on for about two hours.  Bath, dinner, and LOTS of books.  Again, I probably have that memory because none of the kids were reading yet.  Once the bigger ones could read to the younger ones, I think I enlisted their help!  I regret that now.  I just wonder how many of these memories would have been created if I had so many distractions in my life, pulling me away from my kids.

Recently, we tried enforcing a no-media rule at our house after 7:00 p.m., but it's nearly impossible, unless we actually turn the phones off!  People are constantly texting or calling and it's irresistible to check them.  My husband's phone lets him know every time he gets an email or someone posts to his Wall.  It is constantly buzzing.

A while back, I mentioned on my Facebook page,  my concern over being the first generation of parents having to deal with Facebook.  (Do you appreciate the irony of me linking you to my Banned From Baby Showers Facebook page?)  If we have such a hard time putting it down, it's worse for a teenager!  I do not think it's been a good thing in our children's lives. 

As for the cell phones, I'm not sure why everyone thinks their kid needs one.  We did get our son a cell phone when he started high school, but in a 3-month period he went from 5,000 texts to 10,000 texts to 15,000 texts.  Talk about addicted!  I took the phone away, paid $145 to stop his service, and he will never have a phone on my watch again.  I have no regrets whatsoever.

Back to some of the Facebook happenings this week, I truly am baffled by the amount of time people spend to stalk other Facebook pages.  If you don't like a page, or disagree with someone, don't read it!  I know from experience that when I get worked up over something I don't agree with, it spills over into every aspect of my life.  It is not healthy.  I feel the same way about my stuff.  If I offend you, don't read it!  Or is it like a train wreck and you just can't look away?  While I enjoy your comments and questions, I just can't spend that much time there.  My BFBS Facebook page is a place where current, former, and future students can get information.  I'd like to spend more time there, but I have to limit myself because my regular life demands it. 

This became a lengthy post.  Think of all the things you could have gotten done instead of reading this!  I am sincerely glad for all the time you spend reading my weekly posts.  I believe we've done some good things here and made a difference. 

Facebook, blogging, and texting are not going to go away.  We are always connected -- to everyone, all the time.  I believe it has caused us to be less connected to the people who really matter - our families, our children. Turn off the computer and go spend some time with your kiddos!  I'm going to go can 2 dozens pints of pinto beans before my kids come home from school.

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A Letter to My Dad

Even typing the title of this post bring tears to my eyes.  I am not sure how I'm going to get through this, but I have felt for weeks that I need to write this post.  I'm not sure how to start this post.  I guess the beginning is as good a place as any.

My parents got married very young.  My dad was 21 and my mom was 18.  They had been together for 3 years, but my dad was in the Army in Germany for almost 2 1/2 years of that time.  They wrote each other every day and got married 10 days after he returned home.  They got pregnant almost immediately with my brother.  It was a hard time for them, and for my brother.  Both my parents completed their education while my brother was a little boy.  No small feat - they were the first to leave Southern Illinois and to get a college education on either side of their families.

According to my brother, my dad was never a real compassionate, loving father.  I was born about 8 1/2 years after my brother.  I was named Donna because it was the name that my father would have had if he had been a girl.  My grandma named him Donald (called Donnie growing up) because it was the closest thing to Donna.  So my name was very special.  I have a tender picture of my dad holding me as a brand new baby.  I love this picture.  I think about how he must have felt, holding his new daughter.  Full of hope for me and the person I would become.  Not knowing anything about what the future would hold.

My sister was born 22 months after me, probably only because my mother wanted more children.  My dad, on the other hand, was done.

And so the years passed.  My dad was a CPA and owned his own business for as long as I remember.  He didn't really talk to us much when he came home.  Music was turned down when he came home from work, the evening news played while we ate dinner, and mostly, he sat in his chair and read who-knows-what most evenings.  I don't remember being tucked in at night - not to say this didn't happen - I just don't remember it.  I don't remember him reading to me or really even talking to me.  Raising the children was my mom's responsibility. 

My favorite childhood memories are family vacations and skiing.  I grew up in Santa Fe, NM, and we skied several times a month all winter.  My dad was a different person at these times.  He loved to play games and loved nature.  We rode motorcycles through the spring and fall.  But the day to day life was not much fun with him.

I started smoking when I was 12.  As a former smoker, this made my dad insane.  When I got caught smoking, he would make me sit and eat cigarettes or chewing tobacco (I was allowed one glass of water) until I threw up.  Ironically, we usually had a pretty good conversation during these times.  I assume that's because I had his undivided attention.  I continued smoking, just tried to be more careful in not getting caught.

We had a lot of run-ins when I was a teenager.  Sneaking out, bad grades, lots of parties and drinking, bad 80s makeup, boyfriends who were always bad news, and lots of lying.

I caused endless problems between my parents.  My mom always believed my lies and my dad saw right through them.  Eventually, it got to the point that my dad went through the application process to have me admitted to military school.  (I was accepted.)  I told my mom that if they made me go, I'd run away.  I had a boyfriend that was 5 years older than me and I think they knew I was serious.  She asked me where I wanted to go because I couldn't live at home anymore.  I said to live with my Aunt Judy and Uncle Gary in Indianapolis.  I was on a plane two weeks later.  It was the only time I ever saw my dad cry.

It was a long journey to get to the point that my dad and I could have a decent conversation.  Years.  As I got older I could recognize what a complete brat I was as a teenager.  Over the last few months I have started to really grasp the extent of rage he must have felt towards me. 

I remember sitting in an LDS Stake Conference several years ago with President Jim Kearns conducting.  He was sitting on the stand and surveying the people as they walked through the door.  He would jot notes on index cards and hand them to his "helpers" to deliver to certain people in the congregation to speak on a particular topic.  I remember being so touched by the Spirit throughout this meeting as I listened to these inspired speakers.  I felt so honored to be surrounded by these compassionate, loving men and wishing that my father had been more like them.  I've had feelings like these over the years, and even today, as I watched a BYU program between General Conference sessions called "Turning Point," I couldn't help feeling this way again.  I listened to 21 adopted children describe their feelings about their father and mother - and yes, all 21 belonged to the same parents.  I couldn't subdue those feelings again of wishing my father had enjoyed being a father.

Dear Dad-
 
This June, it'll be 5 years since your death.  Not a day goes by that I don't think of you -- sometimes good and sometimes bad.  I look at my kids and feel sad that their memory of you is fading.  Except for playing games with you.  When I play a game, I act just like you -- a worse winner than loser, that is -- and they tell me so.  I tell them I'm just trying to keep your memory alive!  

You'd get a kick out of Darcy.  She is such a firecracker, and yet very sensitive.  And Abby too.  You'd just love to spend time with her.  Such a quick sense of humor.  Independent, organized, and motivated.  Vena is very much the same as she was when she was little -- a very deep thinker and remembers every mean word ever said to her.  She doesn't like sarcasm and for this reason, you would have a hard time with her and vice versa.  Her memories of you are not entirely good and this makes me sad.  A few harsh moments with her went a long way.  Further than the good ones, I'm afraid.

It is my experiences with Daymon, however, that have caused me to reflect on you and our relationship lately.  I see a lot of the same characteristics in him that I possess or did possess as a teenager.  His number one love is music, both playing it and listening to it.  I know you would not have this in common with him!  He is quiet at home.  When you died, none of us were on Facebook.  You would hate it, trust me!  Daymon seems to have a highly addictive personality, just like his mother.  He really enjoyed Facebook, but more than that, he really loved to text.  I use the past tense because he lost all those privileges in January, after having 15,000 texts in one month.  

We've had a hard time with him lately and it makes me realize that so many of the things he does -- or sometimes doesn't do -- remind me of me at that age.  I can't begin to tell you how frustrating it is.  I really do know what is best for him and what would be good for him.  I've been around the block a time or two and if he would just listen to me, I could save him so much pain! 

I remember very well how I felt at his age and so I feel like I have a good understanding of how he'll handle different situations.  You tried to control my every move when I was a teenager and it had the opposite effect.  I ran the other direction and lied to cover my tracks.  You really never knew me, but you didn't take the time to get to know me either.  Had you talked to me when I was younger, maybe I would have talked to you when I was older.  

Something I have learned, we can't make people do what we want them to do.  Daymon has horrible acne.  I tried washing his face for him, but at 14 years old, it's ridiculous!  I can't brush his teeth for him or make him wear his retainer.  Does it make me completely insane that he chooses to not do these things sometimes?  Of course.  But he has his free agency to make his own choices.  I try to teach him the right things to do and talk with him, but at the end of the day, it's up to him.  No matter how much I'd like to, I cannot make his decisions for him.

I can say all these things right now at this very moment because I'm not mad at him!  Several weeks ago, he got caught lying to us.  It was a pretty big lie, too.  David and I were in a heated debate with Daymon and I finally had to walk out of the room.  I spent the rest of the evening crying -- not because of our fight with Daymon, but because I think I had an glimpse into how you must have felt towards me because I was feeling the same way towards Daymon. 

I have determined that you must have hated me.  I'm not saying this looking for sympathy, just stating the facts.  I know you loved me because I am your daughter, but I think you really, really disliked me as a person.  I can't blame you.  You always hear parents say things like, "I hope you have a child just like you when you grow up."  I don't know that you ever said that to me, but now that I have a child that is similar, I understand.  I was much worse than Daymon, however.  

Dad, more than anything I wish you were alive so I could look in your eyes and tell you how sorry I am for putting you through all those years of hell.  I talked with Judy this week about those years and she agreed that you didn't like me until many years later.  The damage had been done.  It's such a tragedy that many parents and teenagers don't realize exist.  It may last for many years.  Even when I was 25, 30, 35, I knew I had been a difficult teenager.  But it is 25 years after the fact that I finally get it!   I feel fortunate that you and I did get to a point where we got along pretty well.

I have no bad feelings -- never did -- over being sent to live with Judy and Gary.  So much good came out of it in so many ways.  Thank you for loving me enough to let me go.  I know it had to have been so hard to give me away to someone else.  I never saw you cry before that day. 

I hope that one day, you and I will get to sit down and have a good heart to heart and get to know each other better.  I can't blame you for who you are any more than you can blame me for who I am.  I am sorry for dishonoring you and for all the heartache I caused you.  This has been a difficult few months for me as I have had these realizations. 

I love you Dad. Despite wishing you were different in many ways, I wouldn't change a thing -- except that you would still be alive so I could say these things face to face. 

Love,
Donna

 

Thanks for your patience on this post.  I had a lot to say.  I do feel that all things parenting related are relevant to Banned From Baby Showers.  Parenting teenagers is not fun so far!  It is challenging in totaling different ways that parenting small babies or children.  It's even causing me to enjoy the "tween" years more.  Abby (10) keeps watching Daymon, saying, "I will not act like this when I am 14!"  Should we believe her?  Of course not! 

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Dads Begging for More Babies

My husband came home from a church activity a few weeks ago where he had been talking to this woman who is pregnant.  He was getting ready for bed and just sort of rambling while putting clothes away and turning down the covers.  In the middle of it all, he expressed that he felt jealous of people in that stage of life.  He went on to talk about how exciting those times were, waiting for a baby.  Wondering what would our labor be like.  And then those early days and months of having a new baby in the house.  Sigh.

So often I hear women say that they'd love to have more children but their husband is DONE!  I rarely hear a woman say that her husband would love more but that she is the one who is done!  Why is that?

I must admit that my husband is a unique breed.  He's sensitive and compassionate.  Clever and funny.  Oh, and incredibly handsome!  He loves babies.  He never protested at having the baby in our bed like many men. In fact, the other night he was in and out of our last Bradley class and we were talking about co-sleeping.  He threw in his two cents -- yes, he slept great -- except an occasional "boot to the head" from a toddler.  (David wants you to know that this is him holding one of our babies in the above photo.  OK, we can't all be Joe Gumm.)

Is it just that our kids are bigger now and we don't have a baby anymore?  Are we just missing that time of our lives?  David hates feeling nostalgic and I think he's been hit with quite a bit of it lately.  Maybe it's that his wife just turned 40 (he's 37), maybe it's having a kid in high school that is driving us completely crazy and he's missing the "simpler" days.  Whatever it is, it's real. 

I, on the other hand, don't have that I-miss-not-having-a-baby-in-the-house feeling like he does.  I really do live vicariously through my Bradley students.   I'm still surrounded by pregnancy, labor, birth, and babies.  I am selfishly enjoying my quiet days when they are in school.  I am unbelievably busy with other things, just not breastfeeding and changing diapers!  For the record, I miss the hours of holding a nursing baby and co-sleeping with my babies, feeling their warm little body mold to mine.  It was a wonderful time that flew by much too quickly.  Everyone says that to you when they are little and you think "Yeah, right, lady!  You have no idea."  Now I'm that lady!

Back to the men.  David had a vasectomy when Darcy was about 18 or 19 months old, which in my opinion, is the absolute worse age ever, or at least I thought it was until we had a 14-year-old!  He was dead set that he didn't want more babies and I was right on board with him on that one -- again, Darcy was at my least favorite age.  I haven't changed my mind, but I think if I said I wanted another baby, he'd jump right on that.  Don't get excited, it's not going to happen. 

A lot of dads don't enjoy having a baby in the house.  Am I wrong here?  Baby wants mom and doesn't really care all that much about his/her dad until later.  I did have one baby that really did seem to prefer her dad over me -- still does.  But for the most part, I think that is a fair statement.  Sex often revolves around the baby's routine.  Breasts are often off-limits with breastfeeding sensitivity and leaking.  His wife is often so distracted with the baby, dad gets "stuck" with more chores around the house.  If baby is not co-sleeping, dad is probably involved in night feedings and not sleeping well.  Right or wrong, I'm just trying to think from his perspective for a minute, so don't hate me.  We can't ignore the financial responsibility in having kids, that ideally falls mostly upon the father.  (At least that's how I was raised and how it is in our family.)

Mom typically is the one who spends many more hours with the baby and gets to know the baby before dad.  She figures out the different cries the baby has, what they mean, and how to calm the baby.  When she has to tell him how to calm his baby, he might feel inadequate.  Dads often get to know their babies through play, once the baby is big enough. 

I can't explain why David didn't seem to feel these things.  I hear from so many couples that struggle within the first few months.  I wish all new dads enjoyed the new baby phase.  It is something that many women want to experience over and over. 

I am thinking out loud on this post.  It's just something that's been on my mind lately since David made that comment about missing the baby phase.  I'm so grateful for such a compassionate man to share my life with, one that loves babies and co-sleeping. 

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Leashing Your Kids

Let me preface this post with a controversial statement:  I can't stand animals.  I have no desire to be a pet owner whatsoever, much to the dismay of all three of my girls.  Especially Darcy.  I've never seen a child love animals more than she does.  Now, don't get me wrong, I like going to the zoo just as much as the next mom.  I just don't want to own animals.  I have four children.  That's enough responsibility for me.  I can't even keep a plant alive.

A few weeks back, I posed the question on my Banned From Baby Showers Facebook page, what topics would you like to see on the blog? Several of you asked what I thought of leashing your kids.

So, what is the politically correct response to this question, especially from an advocate of Attachment Parenting?  I'd have to say, surely it is to not leash your child, like you would your dog, right? 

I've written a bit about my life here and I think you've gotten the picture that I was a pretty rowdy teenager.  Definitely a rule breaker.  Apparently I was the same as a toddler.  When I was 18 months old, my dad kept me on a leash every time we went anywhere.  He gave it to me as a gift when I had my own children, only partially joking.

The only time any of my children were leashed was when Vena (#2) was about 18 months old.  We were at "Breakfast on the Plaza" for a 4th of July celebration in my hometown of Santa Fe, NM.  My dad insisted that I put her on my old leash because there were so many people.  I absolutely refused and told him that if he wanted her on a leash, he was going to have to do it.  He got her harnessed up and it lasted, maybe, 5 minutes.  She screamed her head off!  (I thoroughly enjoyed it.)  With everyone staring, he agreed that maybe it wasn't the best idea.  He said that if only I'd started her off that way as soon as she started walking, it would have worked.  Yes, this was the parenting I was raised on.

I have no doubt that my dad was just concerned for Vena's safety, and mine when I was a toddler.   It is a scary thing for any parent to have a small child in a large crowd.  It only takes a split second to lose them. 

As you can imagine, I carried all my babies in a sling and rarely even used a stroller.  When they got older and we were on all-day outings, I would definitely take a stroller too.  But sometimes, let's face it, the kid wants out -- and needs out -- to run around, to stretch their legs.  Obviously, the parents have to watch them every single second and it can be a stressful event.

All kids are so different too.  When my son was about 2, we lost him in a Super Target in Orem, UT.  OK, wait -- David lost him -- I was in a dressing room.  He let him out of the cart "for just a second," and he was gone.  One thing about Daymon, when his feet hit the ground, he was running!  For 10 minutes we had no idea where our son was.  He had made it to the very back of the store when a very nice lady picked him up.  Yadda, yadda, yadda, David learned his lesson!

I read a funny story one time about a mom who was in the front yard with all the neighborhood moms and kids.  Her 2 year old boy took off down the road.  She had a baby on her hip and another one on the way.  She was wearing "the cutest clogs" and had no idea how she was going to chase her son down the road.  She got a great idea and yelled as loud as she could "ETHAN!  ICE!  CREAM!"  Sometimes we have to be resourceful.  Each child is so different and cannot be treated the same as the next.

I think it's really easy to judge a parent that has their child on a leash -- I know I've done it -- but in the end, we don't know the parent's frame of mind at that point.  (Maybe they've lost a child before, maybe she's pregnant and not feeling well, maybe the kid hates the stroller and screams in it, etc.)  There could be a million reasons why they made the decision to use a leash.  Ultimately, if the child is happy (not screaming like Vena was), mom or dad is probably happy, everyone is safe.  I don't really care.  I'd rather see a happy toddler walking around on a leash than a parent trying to keep a child in a stroller, cramming a bottle in his mouth trying to keep him quiet. We've all witnessed that, I'm sure.

One of my former students was at the zoo recently and she sent me a picture of a father holding up a stroller with the child in it to see the animals.  Heaven forbid he should take the child out and actually hold him up to see.  They obviously wanted the child to stay in the stroller.  A leash would have been so much better and have forced the parents to have more interaction with their child.  

So, I don't think this is so cut and dry.  It must offend us because we see it the same way as leashing a dog.  But why do people leash their dogs?  So they don't run away.  It's all the same.  People love their dogs.  People love their children.  They want them to have the freedom to walk, but they also want them to be kept safe.  Besides, the leashes I've seen lately are so cute, like animal backpacks!  Mine was just a rope, like a hanging.

What I'd really like at this point in my life is a leash for my 14-year-old son.  That's another story for another day.

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Parenting Trials, Part 2

A couple of things I forgot to mention in the last post that I've been thinking about lately:

I think it's good that children have siblings to figure things out with. They learn a lot about sharing, negotiation, problem-solving, cooperation, having fun, and unconditional love by having siblings. Then, I hope, they can go out into the world and be able to relate, or at least get along with, all sorts of people in all sorts of settings and situations.

One of Vena's teachers is doing my class by DVD, so her and her husband come by to pick up DVDs every few weeks. She has seen how Vena acts at home (crazy!) and has assured me that she does NOT act that way at school. What a relief! In fact, she says that Vena is the perfect student.

My point is, home is where we figure things out. Hopefully we can pull things together out in the real world!

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A Tough Day of Parenting

I have been writing a post in my head for the last couple of weeks on Co-sleeping vs. Bed-Sharing. There is a lot of info though, and since I have had a tough day of parenting, I decided I need a little therapy to talk myself down! (I will be writing that post though over the next few days.)

I really don't want to make this into a blog about my family. There are some family dynamics, however, that are worth exploring. I, for one, am so sick of hearing myself repeat the same instructions over and over to the same children. I counted 5 times that I had to tell Daymon to practice his trumpet for another 15 minutes before he finally did it. When he actually did practice, he went over by 10 minutes and he sounded great.

Vena just could not get her room picked up the way I wanted it -- and that is the trick! Here is a funny thing about any family willing to fork out the money to have someone come and clean for them: you have to pick up the entire house before the cleaning lady can come to clean. My kids despise that. It creates a lot of stress to have the entire house picked up all at once, but we all love it when it's done. I'm probably not getting a lot of sympathy here, but I am willing to pay for this service so that I can devote my time to other things, such as this blog!

And it's Monday, so the elementary school kids came home with their homework packets for the week. Another thing to do. I'm describing all of our lives, I hope!

But here's an interesting dynamic I have noticed lately. My kids fight. Usually if there's a good fight going in our house, we can assume that Abby is right in the middle of it. She is such a firecracker. She has recently discovered tattling, as she is 7, almost 8. I have started asking the kids if they really want me to solve the problem for them. I will if they want me to, but they probably won't like my solution. (They know I'll make them clean something -- probably together -- and get some work out of them.) So, they are learning to solve their conflicts on their own. I have noticed they are getting better at this. It makes David and I very happy.

Tonight we had a Family Council Meeting about the commandment "Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother" and what that means. Respect, especially from a certain someone who will remain nameless, has become an issue lately and it is disrupting the entire family. I hope things improve in that area.

We have missing assignments from another student, who miraculously pulls As and Bs every six weeks, with a lot of stress in between. People tell me I should just let him fail, but I just haven't been able to do that. And yet, I believe (and of course, he doesn't) that he would fail if I didn't ride him about his assignments. How do you teach integrity and hard work besides by example? We are frustrated by this situation. He's lost the Play Station and computer time, but the problem continues...

The flip side of all this is that it makes me appreciate Darcy more. She'll be 4 in March. She says the funniest things and is so "innocent" -- those who know Darcy are laughing at that description! I hate to end this on a sour note, complaining about my day and parenting trials, so I'll end it with a good bed-sharing story:

We had a big storm last night with lots of really strong wind and rain. Right after it started, Darcy came running into our room and snuggled into her old spot in the middle. She was shaking. She cuddled right up to me and I felt her body relax after a few moments of listening to the storm. She's the only child who ever wakes up to any storm, so this morning as we drove Daymon to school, she was telling him all about it. I tried to remember exactly what she said: "At first I didn't realize (yes, she really used that word!) that it was rain, but then I did and I ran in the dark to Mommy and Daddy's bed. It was scary Daymon! I knew they would keep me safe and warm. That's where I slept until morning."

Hearing words like that, who can argue with bed-sharing and keeping your little one "safe"?

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