It's so funny how the things you love and hate about yourself are reflected in your kids.
My 20-month-old is like a little me. She's not even 2, and her favorite book is "The Lorax" (which was my favorite book as a kid). She loves the truffula trees and gives them hugs when they are getting chopped down. Yes, folks, my kids is a tree-hugger. I'm so proud.
She's also such a talker. Since my first didn't start talking till 2 1/2, it's astounding to hear the things that come out of this kid's mouth. Lately, when you tell her something she doesn't want to hear (like "no"), she says in a hurt voice, "don't say that!" or in a belligerent voice, "don't talk to me!" How can I not laugh? This kid is going to run the world. Or at least take down a Thneed factory.
My older daugther is very academic (I was as well). She can spell her name and "Dora" as well as a few other words, but she is stubborn as heck (just like guess-who). I am trying to teach her how to write her name, but she is not interested. She does not want to be taught anything new, she just wants to show off the various things she has already mastered. What kind of a way to live is that?
I think she might be a little bit of a perfectionist-- only wanting to do things she's successful at. That's not so much me, but I do remember HATING to be forced into doing things that did not come naturally. For example, I remember sitting at the table in a booster seat, pouting because my parents wanted me to say "may I be excused" before leaving the table. I just didn't like the sound of it. So proper and contrived. I refused to say it, so I sat and sat.
In the same way, Kira does not like to be told what to do. And she does not like to fail. So if she tries to write her name and can't do it on the first try, she'd rather not do it at all. I'm not so bad as that, but I must admit, if there are things that I really suck at, rather than practice, practice, practice to improve, I'm more likely to go do something I am good at-- like Facebook Scramble or lefthanded cartwheels or checking my email.
While it's gratifying to see your kids taking after you, it's also a bit of a downer because you want your kids to do better than you. If they suffer from your same hang-ups, they may disappoint themselves, the way we have probably disappointed ourselves.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Early Voting Starts in Florida
Today is the official first day of early voting in my battleground state of Florida. If the kids let me (and I remember my voter registration card), I'm going downtown to vote today.
You all know I'm an Obama supporter, but I just watched a PBS documentary on both candidates (totally objective, just the facts, PBS-style), and I have to admit I've gained a lot of respect for John McCain as well. The guy was a POW in Vietnam for 9 years, and he's not the Bush-lover he seems to be. In fact, I suspect that he only voted with Bush so many times in the past 4 years because he was trying to save his political career. At one point (he denies it) he almost went Democrat.
Of course, for me, Obama is still da man. Here's a smart, steady guy who has been an activist from Day One. In fact, Obama went into politics because he couldn't help people enough with his community organizing activities. Can you believe that? Obama is actually running for president because he want to help people! Has our political system ever seen the like since the founding days?
Anyway, I'm pulling hard for Obama, but I am more comforted that if John McCain does get in, he might actually try to do some good things, too. Of course, I'll never vote for John McCain because he is too oil-loving and refuses to make any promises to move away from oil or to do anything about health care (except throw money at us to shut us up). I suspect this is not because he doesn't recognize a problem, but because these folks are funding his campaign, or there are old promises to be maintained, or whatever. That's irrelevant to me. If you can't or won't get us off oil and stand up to the health insurance companies, then you shouldn't be President. Period.
You all know I'm an Obama supporter, but I just watched a PBS documentary on both candidates (totally objective, just the facts, PBS-style), and I have to admit I've gained a lot of respect for John McCain as well. The guy was a POW in Vietnam for 9 years, and he's not the Bush-lover he seems to be. In fact, I suspect that he only voted with Bush so many times in the past 4 years because he was trying to save his political career. At one point (he denies it) he almost went Democrat.
Of course, for me, Obama is still da man. Here's a smart, steady guy who has been an activist from Day One. In fact, Obama went into politics because he couldn't help people enough with his community organizing activities. Can you believe that? Obama is actually running for president because he want to help people! Has our political system ever seen the like since the founding days?
Anyway, I'm pulling hard for Obama, but I am more comforted that if John McCain does get in, he might actually try to do some good things, too. Of course, I'll never vote for John McCain because he is too oil-loving and refuses to make any promises to move away from oil or to do anything about health care (except throw money at us to shut us up). I suspect this is not because he doesn't recognize a problem, but because these folks are funding his campaign, or there are old promises to be maintained, or whatever. That's irrelevant to me. If you can't or won't get us off oil and stand up to the health insurance companies, then you shouldn't be President. Period.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
$1 Pregnancy Tests
So I took a pregnancy test yesterday. It's not that I particularly thought that I was pregnant. It's just that I've only had 2 periods in the last, oh, 4 years due to pregnancy and nursing on domperidone (drug to boost milk supply). Plus, I have read the high school brochures about some of the (ahem) less reliable birth control techniques, which we currently employ.
Honestly, I'm lazy about tracking periods anymore. I think my last one was mid-September? And I haven't gotten the obnoxious pre-period zit yet. So it had me... concerned.
I wouldn't have gone out and spent $30 on a pack of First Responses, but someone a long time ago turned me on to the $1 pregnancy tests at the dollar store. It's a simple chemical reaction, so why not? I've had one stored away for several months now, and I pulled it out and peed on it.
Negative.
I was relieved. Very relieved. We're still not sure there's going to be a #3 ever, and even less that it will actually come out of my body (I'd rather adopt, myself).
So why did I have a very small, almost impercebtible sense of disappointment?
Do we as women mourn each of those negative pregnancy tests, even if we aren't trying to get pregnant? Why do we do it?
Is it the loss of an idea? A great adventure that we could have embarked upon, but never packed our bag? Did we subconsciously bond with this potential child, even when he was just a proverbial sparkle in the eye? Maybe it's just a little nostalgia going on-- a little selective memory. Running a hand over a watermelon belly, feeling those sharp little kicks from the inside, dressing your newborn in ridiculously tiny clothes, putting her to your breast...
This must be how the human race survives. Of course, the human race survived long before pregnancy tests. Hmm. I think I'll make myself a salami sandwich with feta cheese and a glass of wine for lunch-- you know, all those things you're not allowed to have when you're pregnant-- while I contemplate that one.
Honestly, I'm lazy about tracking periods anymore. I think my last one was mid-September? And I haven't gotten the obnoxious pre-period zit yet. So it had me... concerned.
I wouldn't have gone out and spent $30 on a pack of First Responses, but someone a long time ago turned me on to the $1 pregnancy tests at the dollar store. It's a simple chemical reaction, so why not? I've had one stored away for several months now, and I pulled it out and peed on it.
Negative.
I was relieved. Very relieved. We're still not sure there's going to be a #3 ever, and even less that it will actually come out of my body (I'd rather adopt, myself).
So why did I have a very small, almost impercebtible sense of disappointment?
Do we as women mourn each of those negative pregnancy tests, even if we aren't trying to get pregnant? Why do we do it?
Is it the loss of an idea? A great adventure that we could have embarked upon, but never packed our bag? Did we subconsciously bond with this potential child, even when he was just a proverbial sparkle in the eye? Maybe it's just a little nostalgia going on-- a little selective memory. Running a hand over a watermelon belly, feeling those sharp little kicks from the inside, dressing your newborn in ridiculously tiny clothes, putting her to your breast...
This must be how the human race survives. Of course, the human race survived long before pregnancy tests. Hmm. I think I'll make myself a salami sandwich with feta cheese and a glass of wine for lunch-- you know, all those things you're not allowed to have when you're pregnant-- while I contemplate that one.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Your Friend That You Hate
I have a friend whose parenting never ceases to amaze me. I mean, she seems pretty normal when it comes to her 3 year old, and even comes up with great craft ideas and creative ways to get him to comply (I'm more the "resistance is futile, just do what I say already" type).
But her parenting of her infant is so far on the other end of the spectrum to what I believe in. Let me give you an example: just yesterday she sends me an invitation to a Kodak Gallery album. In it is a picture of her 6 month old baby daughter eating chunks of pancake! The caption proudly read that B was eating pancake for the first time.
I'm sorry, but anyone who has read a parenting book in the last 10 years or so knows that you're only supposed to be starting solids at 6 months, and babies that age are certainly not ready for pieces of pancake bigger than I give my 19 month old.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm certainly not the perfect parent, and I don't expect others to be. I started solids at 5 months, yell at my 3 year old sometimes, and put on the TV more than an hour a day most days (head hanging in shame). But when I look at people like my friend who formula-fed from the get-go (something I have NO tolerance for), said of her son when he was an infant, "I don't want him to get attached to me," and now the pancake thing... I guess it's hard to see the common ground of friendship.
The good thing is, she does love her kids lots; I can see it. I know it. And when the little one gets to be 2 or 3, there probably won't be too many more things for me choke myself over in horror.
Truth is, when your world has been redefined by children, these kinds of parenting clashes can really take a toll on friendships. Case in point: someone I know with a friend who ended up with a very warped parenting philosophy (and I'm not just saying this. This person works for children's services and denies newborn adoptions to couples if the mother wants to try to lactate and breastfeed the baby.) The husband refers to the wife's friend as, "Your friend that you hate."
Well, I love my friend dearly, and I'm determined to shake my head silently and vent here rather than destroy our friendship over parenting disagreements. It's not easy, though. I mean, when you work so hard to do the right thing for your kids, when your friend doesn't seem to care doesn't it diminish all your efforts?
But her parenting of her infant is so far on the other end of the spectrum to what I believe in. Let me give you an example: just yesterday she sends me an invitation to a Kodak Gallery album. In it is a picture of her 6 month old baby daughter eating chunks of pancake! The caption proudly read that B was eating pancake for the first time.
I'm sorry, but anyone who has read a parenting book in the last 10 years or so knows that you're only supposed to be starting solids at 6 months, and babies that age are certainly not ready for pieces of pancake bigger than I give my 19 month old.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm certainly not the perfect parent, and I don't expect others to be. I started solids at 5 months, yell at my 3 year old sometimes, and put on the TV more than an hour a day most days (head hanging in shame). But when I look at people like my friend who formula-fed from the get-go (something I have NO tolerance for), said of her son when he was an infant, "I don't want him to get attached to me," and now the pancake thing... I guess it's hard to see the common ground of friendship.
The good thing is, she does love her kids lots; I can see it. I know it. And when the little one gets to be 2 or 3, there probably won't be too many more things for me choke myself over in horror.
Truth is, when your world has been redefined by children, these kinds of parenting clashes can really take a toll on friendships. Case in point: someone I know with a friend who ended up with a very warped parenting philosophy (and I'm not just saying this. This person works for children's services and denies newborn adoptions to couples if the mother wants to try to lactate and breastfeed the baby.) The husband refers to the wife's friend as, "Your friend that you hate."
Well, I love my friend dearly, and I'm determined to shake my head silently and vent here rather than destroy our friendship over parenting disagreements. It's not easy, though. I mean, when you work so hard to do the right thing for your kids, when your friend doesn't seem to care doesn't it diminish all your efforts?
Monday, October 6, 2008
Too Close to Home
So for those of you who don't know, we've moved one street away from my parents. This is good in a lot of ways, especially since they can have a real active role in the girls' lives plus give me a break.
However, there are several downsides, only one of which I will complain about today: we have no privacy!!!
Back when I lived 2000 miles away from my mother, I didn't have to worry about her opinion on every single thing I did. Now, if I have an unaccounted-for block of time in my schedule, she politely asks about it. But I don't want to tell her everything, and screaming "It's none of your business!" isn't really my style.
For example, and I feel like a real coward for admitting this, but I got involved with the local Democratic Party to support the Barack Obama campaign. I thought to myself, if McCain gets in and I didn't do ANYTHING to stop it (aside from vote, of course), I would kick myself forever and ever. So I showed up at a meeting, volunteered to make some phone calls and even hosted a voter registration table.
My parents are party Republicans, and annoyingly vocal about it. In fact, we had to designate politics as a no-go topic in the family just to keep everything from escalating into a real problem. So, I did my volunteering without my parents' knowledge.
It's weak and cowardly, I know, but I'm not going to change my parents' mind any more than they are going to change mine, so talk is wasted. Plus, I really don't want our family torn apart by differing ideologies.
I always admired activists and guerrilleros for their ability to stand up against "the man". I want to be like that, but when "the man" is my mom and dad, and after all they've done for us, I just can't bring myself to openly flaunt my protests in their faces.
As my husband puts it, my family lacks the ability to have "healthy conflict". Everything is personal with my dad. If you disagree with him, then you don't respect him. It's an attack against him. I think my mom mostly Republican because they are pro-life. BTW, I am pro-life, too (in a complicated, not 100% way), but that is NOT the biggest problem facing our country right now. Besides, we've had a Republican in office for 8 years now and women are still having abortions...
Thank goodness I married a man with similar views to mine. I guess all we can do is act on what we think is right and teach our children to do the same. I'd love to hear some other struggles of grown children with their parents. I know I'm not alone.
However, there are several downsides, only one of which I will complain about today: we have no privacy!!!
Back when I lived 2000 miles away from my mother, I didn't have to worry about her opinion on every single thing I did. Now, if I have an unaccounted-for block of time in my schedule, she politely asks about it. But I don't want to tell her everything, and screaming "It's none of your business!" isn't really my style.
For example, and I feel like a real coward for admitting this, but I got involved with the local Democratic Party to support the Barack Obama campaign. I thought to myself, if McCain gets in and I didn't do ANYTHING to stop it (aside from vote, of course), I would kick myself forever and ever. So I showed up at a meeting, volunteered to make some phone calls and even hosted a voter registration table.
My parents are party Republicans, and annoyingly vocal about it. In fact, we had to designate politics as a no-go topic in the family just to keep everything from escalating into a real problem. So, I did my volunteering without my parents' knowledge.
It's weak and cowardly, I know, but I'm not going to change my parents' mind any more than they are going to change mine, so talk is wasted. Plus, I really don't want our family torn apart by differing ideologies.
I always admired activists and guerrilleros for their ability to stand up against "the man". I want to be like that, but when "the man" is my mom and dad, and after all they've done for us, I just can't bring myself to openly flaunt my protests in their faces.
As my husband puts it, my family lacks the ability to have "healthy conflict". Everything is personal with my dad. If you disagree with him, then you don't respect him. It's an attack against him. I think my mom mostly Republican because they are pro-life. BTW, I am pro-life, too (in a complicated, not 100% way), but that is NOT the biggest problem facing our country right now. Besides, we've had a Republican in office for 8 years now and women are still having abortions...
Thank goodness I married a man with similar views to mine. I guess all we can do is act on what we think is right and teach our children to do the same. I'd love to hear some other struggles of grown children with their parents. I know I'm not alone.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Kira is Sick and I'm a Basketcase
Yesterday is the sickest one of my kids has ever been. Kira woke up fine, but by 9:30 was lying on the couch listless and not interested in breakfast. Then she threw up her apple juice and I knew something was very wrong.
Her fever came on suddenly and got up to 103 with the medication taking over an hour to have an effect. We rushed her to the pediatrician's office where the American health care system proceeded to fail us for the first time (please, Obama save us!). Our insurance did not cover the next day strep test, only the 3 day strep test. Who is going to wait 3 days to find out if their kid has strep?
We started giving her the antibiotic anyway- one she hasn't had before. And since my dh is allergic to all known antibiotics, it's always a scary thing to give the kids a new drug. I went as far as the give her the first dose in the doctor's office, just in case. (if you haven't guessed, I'm a basketcase about this stuff).
I don't do any medical very well, especially when it has to do with me or one of my kids. Honestly, if I have a splinter in my finger, my whole day is ruined until I get it out. I do not exaggerate. I thought to myself as I held my 104.5 degree, shivering child in a tub of lukewarm water, listening to her beg for a blanket to warm up, how do the parents of severely ill children do it?
I have a new respect for these parents who keep the proverbial stiff upper lip while their kid is strapped down for an MRI or gets her body destroyed by chemo or radiation. I was losing in front of my kid when she only had a high fever.
Thankfully, the night was better than the evening. Her temperature actually went down to normal for about 5 hrs (yes, my husband and I checked her every hour). And when it started back up again, it didn't go over 102. Today she's a little warm (about 100), but playing, eating, drinking, joking around.
So it seems she's out of the woods. She hasn't even needed her next dose of Advil. I guess I can put a hold on the panic for now. Maybe my neck muscles will unravel, maybe I can eat today, maybe the headache from clenching my teeth will subside. Unless, of course, the baby gets it. I keep nursing her like a fiend, willing my milk to ward off the illness.
I don't want my baby to get this. I don't want her to suffer, and she doesn't take medicine well. Selfishly, I also don't want to go through again what I went through yesterday. And God forbid I should be tested with something worse. I don't want to have to find out whether or not I could handle it.
Her fever came on suddenly and got up to 103 with the medication taking over an hour to have an effect. We rushed her to the pediatrician's office where the American health care system proceeded to fail us for the first time (please, Obama save us!). Our insurance did not cover the next day strep test, only the 3 day strep test. Who is going to wait 3 days to find out if their kid has strep?
We started giving her the antibiotic anyway- one she hasn't had before. And since my dh is allergic to all known antibiotics, it's always a scary thing to give the kids a new drug. I went as far as the give her the first dose in the doctor's office, just in case. (if you haven't guessed, I'm a basketcase about this stuff).
I don't do any medical very well, especially when it has to do with me or one of my kids. Honestly, if I have a splinter in my finger, my whole day is ruined until I get it out. I do not exaggerate. I thought to myself as I held my 104.5 degree, shivering child in a tub of lukewarm water, listening to her beg for a blanket to warm up, how do the parents of severely ill children do it?
I have a new respect for these parents who keep the proverbial stiff upper lip while their kid is strapped down for an MRI or gets her body destroyed by chemo or radiation. I was losing in front of my kid when she only had a high fever.
Thankfully, the night was better than the evening. Her temperature actually went down to normal for about 5 hrs (yes, my husband and I checked her every hour). And when it started back up again, it didn't go over 102. Today she's a little warm (about 100), but playing, eating, drinking, joking around.
So it seems she's out of the woods. She hasn't even needed her next dose of Advil. I guess I can put a hold on the panic for now. Maybe my neck muscles will unravel, maybe I can eat today, maybe the headache from clenching my teeth will subside. Unless, of course, the baby gets it. I keep nursing her like a fiend, willing my milk to ward off the illness.
I don't want my baby to get this. I don't want her to suffer, and she doesn't take medicine well. Selfishly, I also don't want to go through again what I went through yesterday. And God forbid I should be tested with something worse. I don't want to have to find out whether or not I could handle it.
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