The Rise of the Internet; The Fall of Integrity

I have a love-hate relationship with Facebook.  I love being able to keep up with friends and family that don't live close to me and I'm sure that sometimes, they actually like to keep up with me (well 2.0 more than me).  I love playing games on Facebook when I'm trying to work on a novel and I can't seem to 'get in the zone' and write.  Occasionally there's an interesting article or video that catches my attention.  I love keeping up with my favorite athletic teams and of course, there's the fandoms I'm part of.  Who could live in the absence of Doctor Who updates and Hunger Games memes?  It breaks up the tedium of being home all the time sometimes.

The hate part of this relationship comes in the form of people taking text out of context and choosing to attack the character of the person posting because they can't read the context in which a post was written.  Right now someone is reading this blog post and thinking it's directed towards them and that I'm being passive aggressive and wondering why I didn't tell them I had a problem with them in the first place.  That's not what's happening here.  I'm simply commenting on something I've noticed for several years, ever since I was pregnant with 2.0 and visited a message board for the first time consistently.  I will be using that message board on the What To Expect website as the example in this post (it was the March 2011 board which is now listed under the Toddler section).

My pregnancy with 2.0 was my first that ended in a healthy baby.  I had symptoms that I didn't want to bother my obgyn with and wondered if other women were experiencing at the same time in their pregnancy too.  So I hopped on a message board and almost instantly regretted it.  Why?  Let me answer a question with a question: Have you ever heard of a troll?

A troll is someone who starts drama needlessly and then perpetrates the drama until someone in the discussion thread calls them out for being a troll.  Then this drama addict goes to the next board and starts the same stuff over again.  We could also possibly call these people catfish if they are perpetrating fraud online.  I've seen that too on the same website.  Trolls like to go into a pregnancy message board and drop bombs like 'circumcision', 'abortion', and 'government assistance' in posts and then watch the fur fly.  I'm sure there have been enough complaints about this on regular boards that someone started one called Hot Topics, where trolls hang out for a little while before spreading their venom on the next group.

I got caught on one of these discussion threads when I was about seven and a half months pregnant.  I was told that it was better for me to pay $10 a month on a $20000 hospital bill than go on medicaid (please feel free to do the math and see that my grand kids would still be paying for my son's birth if I stuck to that plan).  On a side note, I had medicaid when 2.0 was born and he is still covered by medicaid because no matter how many hours Nate and I worked for our employer, said employer refused to offer health insurance to us and we didn't make enough money to purchase our own privately.  The thread got so toxic that I pulled out of the board and didn't go back for almost three weeks.  I probably would never have returned if one of the women on the thread hadn't messaged me privately through the website and asked me to look at the thread to see how many other women were defending me.  The troll was kicked out and I went back in.

 Slowly I have watched posts that were intended to be personal reflections on life get taken so far out of context that the person offended turned it into a personal attack on their beliefs.  That person isn't my friend anymore and I don't know what went wrong.  I wasn't even thinking about her at the time I wrote the post.  I was just thinking.  That's why it smells like bacon over here.  

If a comment or a post or a message or whatever it is online offends you, that might be the time to ask yourself what it is that gets your back up so much.  Is the person wrong?  Sometimes that's the case.  Is it worth commenting?  Probably not.  You'll just end up creating needless drama and if the person is really your friend, can't you agree to disagree and move on with life?  I'm pretty sure the other person already did that and when they posted that thing that offended you so much, you weren't even a blip on their radar.  Don't feed the trolls.  Don't be that person.

You have a choice online.  You can choose to read stuff or you can choose to ignore it and move on.  No one is holding a gun to your head and making you read stuff you don't agree with.  No one is deliberately posting derogatory stuff on Facebook about your profession or your religion or your political beliefs or the color of your underwear to make you mad.  In the end, your mother told you that if you can't say something nice that you should keep your darned mouth shut.  This applies to your fingers and your phone, tablet, and computer.  If you can't respond with something nice or constructive, keep your opinion to yourself.

Parental Impact

I must say that I think I've been watching entirely too many reruns of Criminal Minds lately.  I've been catching up on the series through reruns because the show is entirely too graphic and inappropriate for 2.0 to even catch a glimpse of and as the show comes on Wednesday nights at 8 and 2.0's bedtime has been between 830 and 930...well you get the picture.

During his nap this afternoon, I was watching three episodes, one of which is an all time favorite of mine and two from this past season that I hadn't been able to watch all the way through without interruption.  I didn't realize I had picked three episodes with similar themes until after 2.0 got up and I had to turn it off.

All three episodes involved serial killers who evolved due to extreme abuse, one from a grandmother after his mother died giving birth to him, one from a mother who abused him because he was born deaf, and the last from a father after the son admitted he was gay.  These poor kids were humiliated, starved, beaten, sexually assaulted, verbally abused, and emotionally decimated.  All three kids went to jail after killing several people and one committed suicide before going back to jail after escaping.  Can you see why 2.0 doesn't watch this show?

As I watched each episode, I started to think about my role as a mother.  If, as my son's mom, I tell him that he is worthless and reinforce that opinion with actions that repeat the same, he will grow up believing that he is worthless.  If I were to starve him and humiliate him, he would grow to resent and eventually hate me for what I was doing to him.  Whether he would turn into a serial killer is unknown.  Some adults who grew up in situations like this have not turned out that way.  I think of Dave Pelzer, author of A Child Called It (read this book and the two that follow it only if you can stand reading about graphically described instances of severe child abuse).  He went through horrible abuse and he's not a serial killer, at least as far as I know.  Instead, he has taken his own personal tragedy and turned it into a motivational moment.

I want to be perfectly clear.  I would NEVER abuse or humiliate my son.  I would NEVER EVER treat him as if he is worthless.  I don't know a single mother who would actually do that to her children.

But what does my behavior tell my son?

Is he able to believe the words that I say to him because my actions speak the same things to him?  I like to think I get that part right about 95% of the time.  I like to think that he knows that I would do anything for him and that he is precious to me.  I like to believe that I show him the right way to go in life by the deeds I do.  I do realize that I miss the mark and that I miss it by quite a lot sometimes.

As parents, I don't think we realize truly what an impact we have on our kids.  If we did, I think we would be absolutely petrified of the things we do and the words we say.  You see, 2.0 sees me get angry at the driver who just cut me off in traffic.  He hears the words I say when no one else is around to hear them.  He sees my frustration and confusion and impatience.  He learns how to handle such things from my behavior, not from my direction when he faces similar situations.

Tonight I held my son closer because I want him to know I love him.  I didn't let myself get distracted as easily because I want him to know he's important to me.  Now I'm going to read to him because I want to him to know that I value the written word and he should to.

What impact are you leaving?

The Reasoning Behind Home Education

When I was in middle school, I noticed one girl in band class who wasn't there for the rest of the school day and I didn't understand why she wasn't there the rest of the time.  Did she have some kind of horrible disease?  Was she a grade ahead of me and I didn't know it?  Maybe she had all the same classes I had but at a different time.  Or she was a Special Ed student and she had the rest of her classes in another building.  When I asked some of the other kids in class who she was, I was told in very hushed tones that she was homeschooled.  Oh the horror, for this was 1993 and no one was homeschooled unless you were a religious weirdo, sick to the point of death if you were around other kids or so troubled that you'd been kicked out of every other school and that was the only option left for you.

I ended up going to church with this girl and her family for a couple of years and I discovered that she was not only very smart and kind and funny, but that she was completely normal.  Her parents weren't strange, she wasn't sick and she wasn't troubled.  Her parents simply believed they could provide her with a better education at home than she would receive in the public school system.  Except for band class as neither of them played an instrument and this young lady wanted to play the flute more than just about anything.

Fast forward twenty years and homeschooling is starting to become the norm instead of the exception.  I know more homeschooled kids now than I ever have.  The internet is making school more accessible from home than it ever has been before.  More and more states are beginning to offer online K-12 as an alternative to attending a physical campus.  I wish it had been this easy to homeschool when I was in school because I would've begged to stay home instead of face the African Savanna that was high school.  I hated watching weak kids being picked off like sick wildebeests by the popular lions and cheetahs.  It was sickening.

2.0 will be homeschooled.  This was not a decision that Nate and I came to lightly.  We talked about our children's education before we even thought we'd have children to educate.  You see, Nate has an IQ of 165 and mine is 155, both of which are firmly planted in the genius IQ range (140 and over is considered genius level).  If 2.0 has a high IQ like we do, then public school will be horribly boring for him.  

That being said, Nate has ADD and is dyslexic, not to mention the vision problems he has as a result of his keratoconus (click here for more info on keratoconus).  Those conditions made school difficult for Nate.  While he attends college, he has to have accommodations made so he can learn in spite of his issues.  Not all public schools have the funding to meet the needs of students who have special needs like that.  While homeschooling, Nate and I can meet those needs and tailor 2.0's education to fit him.  

If 2.0 excels in one area but falls behind in another, we can spend more time on what he has trouble with over an extended period of time and still offer more advanced material to him in the areas he excels in.  I was horrible with math but excelled in English, literature, and science.  For all I know, my son may excel in those same areas as well.

Homeschooling also provides us with the opportunity to teach our son what we want him to know.  I don't want my son learning about condoms when he's seven.  I don't want him to learn an abbreviated version of history because the teacher doesn't want to discuss the civil rights movement or is uncomfortable talking about the Nazis.  I want my son to learn how to mend a torn hem on his jeans and I want him to learn how to change the oil on the car he's driving without taking time away from the rest of his studies.

Most of all, I want to spend time with my child.  I'm not saying that parents who send their kids to public school don't want to spend time with their kids.  I'm saying that I want to spend more time with my son.  I want to help open the world up for him, not ship him off to another place so someone else gets the privilege of handing him the world and explaining it to him.  I'm not sending him to daycare.  Why would I send him off to school?

Homeschooling is not for everyone.  Some parents aren't able to do it and some parents simply shouldn't do it.  If homeschooling isn't for you, that's fine.  Isn't there enough criticism of parents nowadays?  There's nothing wrong with public schools.  I simply want to educate my son at home.  

Someday though, he may step foot in a public school.  After all, I'm a horrible artist and I haven't played my clarinet in over a decade.  If 2.0 wants to play an instrument or take an art class or play a sport, he just might have to do what that girl did in my band class twenty years ago and take the class with other kids.  

The Library Incident

I haven't been feeling well for about a week now.  I've been really tired, sick to my stomach, and having headaches and heartburn off and on.  I've been irritable and a little short tempered with my husband and son.  I'm not trying to make excuses, I'm simply passing some information along that may help you, as the reader, understand some of the peripherals.

I took 2.0 to the library today because we needed to get out of the house for a little bit.  Last week his allergies made his life unpleasant and had to stay inside pretty much all the time.  I think he was going a little stir crazy and I thought the fresh air would energize me a little bit.

The branch of the library that we go to just put in a table with duplos in the children's section and 2.0 loves those duplos.  He throws a horrible fit when it's time to leave and I was hoping that today would be an exception.  Sadly it wasn't.  He threw himself down on the floor when I tried to get him to leave with me and hit his head on the edge of the table on his way down.  I had to scoop him up and walk patiently to the bathroom while he screamed his head off.

Once in the bathroom I was able to calm him down, but when I wouldn't let him walk out of the bathroom on his own, the crying and screaming started again.  I let him cry it out for a moment and went to leave the bathroom.

He started wailing and screaming again, which necessitated my hasty checkout and brisk pace to the van in the parking lot.  I've never had him react this way in public.  Normally once he calms down, the fit is over.  Today he kept screaming in the car as I strapped him into the car seat and halfway home.  I told him that once we got home he was getting a spanking and going into time out because his behavior was inappropriate and he knew better.

I carried him inside and we went directly to his bedroom, where I sat him down on his changing table and started taking off his shoes.  Immediately, 2.0 started saying "I sorry Mommy.  I sorry threw fit library Mommy."
Once I got his shoes off, I leaned down and looked him in the eye.  "What else are you sorry for Nathan?"
"I sorry for scream Mommy.  I sorry for fit Mommy."
"Will you do it again?"
He looked at me and in all seriousness said "Yes.  Probably."

He was so cute and sincere that I almost didn't spank him.  Almost.

He threw another fit later in the evening and once I picked him up, started apologizing immediately.  When he started climbing on me like I'm some sort of human jungle gym, I lost my cool and yelled at him to stop.  I hate raising my voice if I don't have to and I saw his poor little face fall because he hadn't done anything wrong.  Now it was time for me to be a good example.

I picked him up and carried him to his bedroom again.  He started crying on the way there; probably because he thought he was in trouble.  I sat in his rocking chair and cuddled him close.  "I'm sorry baby.  I'm sorry that I yelled at you.  You weren't doing anything wrong and I lost my temper.  I'm sorry that I lost my temper Nathan.  Can you forgive Mommy?"

Wouldn't you know that my sweet little boy looked at me, smiled, and said "yes".

I'm not proud of my behavior.  I didn't act like an adult, let alone a caring loving mother.  I still felt it was important to show 2.0 that when Mommy doesn't act right, Mommy apologizes.  Then he knows it's not just something he has to do to get out of being disciplined.  He knows that mommies have to apologize too.

The Joy Of A Boy

I read an article in People magazine about celebrity moms and the little boys they are raising that made me start thinking about my own little boy.  I love being his mom.  Regardless of how many times we've been up in the night (it was only once last night!) or how horrible he behaves in the store (stop that RIGHT NOW or you won't get to ride the Batmobile) or how many bite marks I have on my shoulder from temper tantrums (the last one just healed up and we haven't had a new one in about a week).

When I found out I was pregnant, I was certain that I was having a boy.  I pulled out my copies of Bringing Up Boys and The Way Of The Wild Heart and started reading.  I read about disciplining a boy and the Beloved Son stage of a boy's life.  I read about the different needs that boys have from their mothers and their fathers and how to see the world through the eyes of a little boy.  The week before my 22 week ultrasound, I was so desperate for a son that I convinced myself that I was having a girl and allowed myself to grieve for the loss of my hopes and dreams.  Imagine my delight when I found out I was indeed carrying a precious little boy!

2.0 is a warm light in my life.  He's like a shaft of sunshine coming through the window on a cloudy morning.  He's brightness and warmth and a call to rise from the comfort of my life before him.  I can't remember what life was like before 2.0 was here.  He's a ball of energy that curls up with me on the couch to watch Wreck It Ralph.  He screams and bites and throws temper fits when he doesn't understand what's going on or why he can't have what he wants right now.  Once it's over, he's a teary eyed cuddlebug that falls asleep on my shoulder after whispering "I sorry Mommy" in my ear.

I'm a better person because of my son.  He pushes me and stretches me and challenges me every single day. I have to remember to be the adult and to keep my cool instead of losing my temper when he has a fit.  I've had to become selfless in a way I never thought possible because what I want doesn't matter but what he needs sure does.  I don't sleep through the night anymore.  There's a little warm body that crawls into my bed and curls up next to me with his blankie clenched in his fist as he falls asleep with my arms around him.

Raising a boy is the greatest joy I've ever had.  I see my husband become a better man as a father.  I watch 2.0 explore the world and I see everything differently because he's seeing it for the first time.  We get dirty and we play with cars and duplos and everything has superhero insignias or a Green Bay Packer logo on it.  2.0 knows who Captain America, Iron Man, Spiderman, Thor, Superman, and Batman are.  He also knows how to count to 10 and knows his letters from A to J.

I would love to have a daughter some day.  I'm thankful that I had a son first.

A Miracle On Happy Joe Drive

Most of us have no idea how much of an impact our actions have on someone else.  We just coast through our day and don't give another thought to the clothes we've donated or the money we gave or the simple smile we had on our face while thanking the cashier at the grocery store.  We just move from task to task, sometimes wondering if we'll ever do something more with our lives than pick up toys and change diapers.

This morning, I was at the Women's Choice Center.  I've already written about the center and what they do. I've already written about the needs they have and the impact having just one of those needs met in a small way has.  While I was volunteering today, I saw that impact first hand.

A woman came, distraught and on the verge of tears.  She asked if we had any size 5 diapers.  That is a size that doesn't last long at the Women's Choice Center because of the great need.  We had a single diaper in a size 5 and I brought it to her.  This woman had lost so much just this morning and to protect her privacy I'm going to keep those details to myself.  When we had to tell her that we didn't have anymore diapers in size 5 beyond the one in my hand, she broke down sobbing.  

Vicki, the executive director of the Women's Choice Center, is a licensed counselor and she comforted this woman, helping her go through what her options were and what her next steps had to be.  I felt so helpless as there was nothing I could offer to this woman to make everything better.  So I prayed.  I prayed that God would meet her needs and give her hope.  

Then the door opened and in walked a woman with a small child, a little boy who couldn't be more than 4 years old.  She carried a package of diapers and some swim diapers and brought them to me, looking at the woman who was sobbing with compassion in her eyes.  I got out a receipt for her donation and then I looked at the size of diapers she'd brought in so I could complete the inventory.  

They were a size 5.

I placed them on the counter for Vicki and she looked at them, then at me and asked what those were for.  I told her simply that they were a size 5 and for the woman who still sat wiping her tears.  She broke down again, this time in grateful sobs.

The woman who was donating the diapers didn't just leave with her receipt.  She stayed a moment, wrapping her arms around this crying woman and hugged her close, whispering prayers to her.  She took her son to the car and waited until this woman left, just to make sure she would be okay.  All of us in the center could've been knocked over with a feather.  God had arrived when He was desperately needed.

You never know what kind of an impact your actions have.  Those clothes you donated could be the answer to a homeless person's prayer.  Those diapers could give a mother peace and the ability to send her child to daycare so she can work to provide for them both.  That smile might just have convinced that cashier that  there really are nice people out there and change her complete outlook on the rest of her day.  

If you ever think you aren't doing important things, I ask you to read this post again and change your mind.  

Potty Training Time

2.0 is really good about telling me when he needs his diaper changed.  He's been doing that for about five months but until recently, he hasn't had the muscle control for potty training.  When he started telling his Sunday school teachers that he needs his diaper changed or that he wants to go to the potty, it became obvious that 2.0 is ready to be a big boy and get out of his diapers.

As a first time mom, this part of toddlerhood is unknown to me.  I've read books which pretty much contradict each other and are of no help at all.  I've read about positive reinforcement, negative reinforcement (which I didn't really care for), the three day method (another one I didn't really care for), and self guided toilet training.  My head felt like it would lift off my shoulders and float away after all of this.

I have to figure out what 2.0 needs to be successful at potty training.  Thank goodness he's had friends in his Sunday school class to guide him, and by proxy me, to what will work for him.  Here's a list of some of my discoveries:

• The Potty Seat: 2.0's first glimpse of potty training came from a little boy named Thomas in his Sunday school class.  2.0 was a year old and watched Thomas pick up his potty seat, go to the teacher, and tell her that he needed to go to the bathroom.  When Thomas went to the preschool class, 2.0 was beside himself, but thankfully there were other kids that did the exact same thing.  When we looked at potties, 2.0 wanted nothing to do with a stand alone potty chair.  Instead, he wanted a potty seat.
• A Potty Schedule: The one thing I read that I really liked was the idea of taking the child to the bathroom immediately upon waking and every hour afterward.  If I wait for 2.0 to let me know that he needs to go to the potty then it's too late.  If I let him pee in his pull up and feel the cold sensation, it's too late.  But if I take him on a schedule, then he knows he only has to hold it for a short time.  Of course I'll take him if he needs to go and it's not on the schedule.  The schedule makes my life easier when we are out running errands.
• Pull ups By Day and Diaper By Night: 2.0 doesn't sleep well as it is.  Why on earth would I wake him up to go to the potty when I just want him to get some sleep?  During the day I have his attention and he's more likely to learn what I'm trying to teach him.  Plus, the amount of muscle control needed to make it through the night is significantly more than during the day.  Let's take little steps instead of expecting big things from such a small bladder.
• Positive Reinforcement: I was given M&Ms when I was potty training.  2.0 loves Dum Dum suckers.  That's an easy one.
• Underwear Is The Ultimate Reward And Then Some: 2.0 will get to pick out his own underwear when he's ready for it.  I plan on making that a big deal.  I want to take him to Monkey Joes and out for pizza so that he understands how big of a step he's made.  No more diapers should be celebrated right?
• Planning For Setbacks: I know this isn't going to be perfect.  I know that it might take a long time.  I'm planning for issues and setbacks now so that mentally I won't be frustrated when they happen.  I know that I'm going to need pads to keep his sheets dry and I know he's going to need extra clothes because of accidents.  I have to keep my cool so that I don't end up giving negative reinforcement with my attitude.

I'm so excited for this new step and I hope that this works out well.  

The Beginning Of Homeschooling

I've looked ahead toward my son's education with excitement and a little bit of fear.  Will I be able to give him the education he needs and deserves?  What about the subjects that I'm not so great with, like math?  What do I do to keep his attention and make learning fun?  Am I making the right choice?

Last month 2.0 read Green Eggs and Ham to me at the library and I realized that I needed to stop looking ahead because 2.0 needed his education to start now.  There aren't a lot of resources for educating a two-year-old at home, at least not resources that I liked or wanted to use.  I needed something that would grow with him and adapt to him and was easy for both of us to use.  I'm so thankful that I found ABCmouse.com.

I'm not one to use my blog space to promote a product very often.  I hope that gives you an idea of how awesome ABCmouse.com really is.  We signed up for it on March 9.  Normally it's around $8 a month or $79 a year.  When I saw that I could get it for $59 this year, I jumped on it, even turning down a free month to get the deal.  After just the last few weeks, I'm positive that I made the right choice.

ABCmouse.com is tailored for kids in preschool, pre-k, and kindergarten, but they also have a toddler section for kids 2.0's age.  It is entirely internet based and can be accessed from any computer that has an internet connection.  There's a parents section that is password protected so the child can't change anything and the lessons can be customized to fit your child's educational needs.  There's reading, writing, math, social studies, geography.  If you don't want to build a lesson for your child or are intimidated by the process, there is a 'learning path' that your child can use that is designed by educators and child development experts.

There are printable pages for coloring, jigsaw puzzles, books, songs, and games.  I'm amazed at how well 2.0 pays attention and the difference in his vocabulary since we started the ABCmouse program.  2.0 sings along with some of the songs and loves the coloring pages online that we point and click on.  He's not so great with a mouse yet, and being a southpaw, I'm going to have to change my mouse to fit his needs when he's ready.  We do his lessons together and he can spend an hour or more on ABCmouse.com just doing lesson after lesson.

We've only had this program since March 9 and he's almost done with the toddler section!  We're going to do it over again with 2.0 manning the mouse by himself a little more.  Then we're moving on to the level 1 lessons.

Here is a link to ABCmouse.com.  Take a look and see what you think if you have kids 2.0's age or even younger.  Our kids are sponges, soaking up everything they can about the world around them.  This program is giving 2.0 a chance to explore even more.

Weight Loss Update and April's Challenge

I went in for my monthly weigh in appointment last week.  March was not a good month for me.  Between the horrible stomach flu that hit both of my Nathans (but didn't hit me thank God) and the strep throat that knocked 2.0 down for about three days, I didn't get out as much as I wanted to.  I was trying to stick to my diet and that didn't go as well as I'd hoped it would.  I went in to the appointment fully believing that I was going to see my first gain.

Imagine my surprise when the scale said 7 pounds lost!  I've lost 30 pounds on the medication my ob/gyn prescribed to me and I've lost a total of 37 pounds since the beginning of my weight loss journey.  Not so bad if I say so myself!

My ob/gyn placed 30 pounds worth of IV saline bags on my lap and it was hard to imagine that I had carried that much weight around before!  No wonder I was so tired all the time!  I can walk around carrying my toddler and it's the same as what I carried by myself before.  I didn't realize what 30 pounds really looked like.  I'm so proud of myself and I refuse to let anything stop me now.

I have an amazing support system, not just with family, friends, and my wonderful husband, but with some fantastic ladies online.  The challenge we have set for ourselves for the month of April is the 50 mile walk.  We will each walk 50 miles this month and at the end of the month, we'll have walked a total of 500 miles!  I already got my first mile in this morning while grocery shopping.  You'd be surprised how the steps add up while walking around Walmart.

I'm excited to see how much weight I'll lose this month while walking!

Two Missing Pieces

Every year on March 26th, I remember my father's passing.  It's not as hard today as it was 21 years ago.  He's been gone now a lot longer than he was here.  I know that it's going to be hard when 2.0 turns 11 because that was the age I was when my dad died.  Occasionally it's hard because I see my little guy do something that I really wish my dad was here to see.  The day 2.0 was born I missed my dad so much, more than I missed him on my wedding day.  I'm getting teary now thinking about it.  I think this year is just a little more emotional than last year and I'm not sure why.

I've explained a little bit to 2.0 that he has a peepaw in heaven that he'll meet when he goes to see Jesus.  I've told him that his missing peepaw would love him very much and didn't want to watch him grow up from heaven.  I hug my father in law a little tighter because he's the only grandpa 2.0 has that shares the same bloodline.  Every now and then I catch myself thinking that it's just not fair.  I quickly remind myself that life isn't fair and thank God we don't get what we deserve.  

Today I'm thinking about the other missing piece of the puzzle of my life.  Since my dad died when I was young, I had a wonderful man step in to fill that void as much as he could.  Grandpa went home in 2006 and I feel his absence almost more than my father's.  Grandpa was the one who walked me down the aisle.  He stood in for my dad for every important moment in my life.  Cancer sent him home before he met my son, but I know he smiles down on us from heaven.

2.0 was looking at a book on tractors and the farm yesterday and I just burst into tears because I remember riding in the tractor with my grandpa as he showed me his farm.  I was a little bigger than 2.0 is now and I remember thinking that my grandpa had to own the entire world because he had so much land.  I remember helping care for a litter of baby pigs and riding out with Grandpa to pick up fish for his pond.  I'm so very sad that 2.0 won't have those memories.

There will be so many other things that 2.0 gets to do with the men in his life.  His grandpas and great grandpa are wonderful men.  He has godfathers and so many uncles who can give him memories of learning to shoot and learning to fish.  For those men I'm thankful and while I miss the ones who are missing, 2.0 will be all the better for the ones who are here.  

Treat The Problem, Don't Punish The Symptom

Before 2.0 was born, my husband and I decided that we are very pro spanking.  We were both spanked and it didn't traumatize either of us emotionally.  If it was good enough for us, it would be good enough for our kids.

There are rules for spanking to prevent lasting physical harm to our son.  We don't spank him with anything other than an open hand and we never spank while we are angry.  We try to be consistent with what behavior gets spanked and what behavior doesn't.

I spanked 2.0 for the first time when he was 9 months old and that was for taking the childproof plug off of an outlet and trying to stick his fingers into it.  I didn't spank him hard and I spanked him on his diaper covered rear end.  It didn't hurt him and was more of a scare tactic so he would understand that when Mommy says 'don't touch that because it could hurt you', she means it.

Our rules for spanking have changed again now that I have a 2 year old.  2.0 now is trying to assert his independence.  He's frustrated and easily irritated by his own inability to do things.  This is completely normal for a 2 year old.  After all, this age isn't called the 'terrible twos' for nothing.  I'm approaching what I spank him for in the same way that I approach his temper tantrums and outbursts.

Nate and I don't like when he starts screaming for no reason.  It's completely unacceptable and grating on the nerves, plus it disturbs our neighbors.  Screaming in the midst of a tantrum or for no apparent reason gets spanked.  Unless...

Just about thirty minutes ago, 2.0 started screaming at me and attempting to shove the plate of lunch in my hand on the floor.  This normally would be spanked without question.  But this time, he's acting out because he hasn't had his nap yet and he's a very cranky tired little boy.  That's what happens when Mommy lets him stay awake for lunch instead of putting him down for a nap before lunch like normal.

I decided not to spank him for this screaming.  Instead, I picked him up, sat in the rocking chair, gave him a paci, and rocked him until he went to sleep.  I wasn't going to punish a symptom of his fatigue when the problem was so much easier to fix.

If I get mad at my child for expressing frustration and I punish him for that expression when I know what the underlying problem is, I'm not doing him any good.  Now I'm not saying I'm going to let him get away with screaming his head off in the future.  If I know he's perfectly fine and he's screaming like a crazy person anyway, well that's going to be spanked.  But a very tired little guy needs sleep, not a spanking.

He's now resting and will be his wonderful loving little self again when he gets up.  But if he starts misbehaving again, we'll have to talk about it.  And he might get a spanking.

The Reader

2.0 has been going to the library with me since he was about a week old.  We are lucky in that one of the local branches of the Davenport Public Library was built about five minutes from our apartment building about a month after we moved into the area in 2010.  Nate and I would go to the library about once or twice a week while I was pregnant and I just kept going even after 2.0 came along.  I'd just wrap him up in his carseat, snap the seat into the stroller, and away we went.

I was an early reader, apparently scaring the snot out of my father when I was 3 by reading the newspaper to him (or so he told me before he passed away in 1992).  I didn't read it in full sentences and I didn't know what the words meant, but I read it to him.  I have loved books ever since.  I read all the time, sometimes four or five books at a time, fiction and nonfiction alike.  I took a book with me almost everywhere before 2.0 was born.

When 2.0 was about four months old, I started reading the Chronicles of Narnia to him.  That didn't work out so well because he had the attention span of...well, an infant.  I quickly gave up reading such a long book to him, but I didn't stop reading to him.  I'd get board books and read them to him, pointing to the pictures and explaining them to him.  By one year of age, he showed an avid interest in reading and books.  Two months before his second birthday, my son started reading words to me.

Today we took one of our many trips to the library and like we normally do, I went immediately to the toddler board books so 2.0 could pick out a couple to look at while we walked through the library.  He wasn't as interested in those as he was the first reader books.  So I picked up several of those, one of which was Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss.  We've read that one many times and it's a favorite of 2.0's.  He got very excited when he saw it and reached up for it from his stroller.  He then completely shocked me.

He started to read it out loud.  Not in complete sentences and some of the words were muddled, but he was reading it.  He was also flipping through the pages backwards, but he was reading the story in reverse too.  He said "Not in a train, not in a box, not with a mouse.  I don't like eggs and ham."  He pointed to the pictures that went with the words he was reading and looked up at me, smiled, and went right back to reading to me.

I'm so thankful that he's so interested in books.  He has no idea how many worlds are open to him through the pages.

When Your Kiddo Is Sick

I remember being sick as a kid.  It wasn't fun the first few days but got better once I could eat regular food again.  Sore throats were better because I would eat ice creams and popsicles all the time.  If I was very sick, Mom or Dad would stay home with me.  More often it was Mom.  I got to watch TV in my room a couple times.  It was both horrible and awesome at the same time.  

There were two exceptions and they both happened around the same time.  I had horrible appendicitis when I was five and ended up in the hospital for a week.  I remember throwing up constantly and curling up in a ball on the floor so the pain would stop.  I actually had to have surgery.  My dad hid a cheeseburger from McDonalds in his pocket so I could have it.  The fried chicken at the hospital was the best thing I'd ever tasted because I hadn't eaten in a week.  I ended up with a horrible case of Chicken Pox a couple days after I got home from the hospital.  I've never itched so badly in my entire life and I had stitches.  I couldn't scratch my belly because of those stitches.  That was not fun.

2.0 got sick today.  Seemingly out of nowhere he brought back up lunch in the back of Meemaw's visit.  I was in shock and couldn't move because I just didn't believe that my son was doing that.  When he got sick again later, I just held him even though my clothes were covered by the whole episode.  My poor little boy.  I would've done anything to take the illness for him.  Watching him roll over in his sleep and whimper a little bit because his poor tummy hurt broke my heart.

When I found out I was pregnant, I thought about what I would do when that precious baby I was carrying would get sick.  I don't handle throw up very well and extremely smelly runny poop is rather gross.  How would I clean up something like that without losing it myself?  

Then 2.0 was born.  Everything after that changed.  Nothing that came out of his body was gross to me.  Okay it's gross, but it didn't matter.  He's my son.  I cradle him as he's sick and I dry his tears with the clean hem of my shirt.  I whip off dirty pants and clean a raw bottom gently with wipes before putting him in the tub.  I gladly get up to change his sheets over and over and over again before sitting with him in the rocking chair while he's sick.  I do anything I can to make him more comfortable.

That's why my mom let me have the TV in my room those couple times.  That's why one of my parents would stay home with me if I was sick.  I now understand where my mom found the strength to sit next to my bed every single night I was in the hospital, even when she thought she didn't have anymore left to give and I understand why my dad brought me that cheeseburger.

When you become a parent, nothing else matters.  You'll gladly clean avocado puke off of a stroller when you've been just as sick if not sicker than your child because that's what parents do.  You'll find a way to make it better.  I'm praying for the strength to make it better tonight even though I'm going to wiped out.  That's what I do.  

It's Not Easy Being Mommy

While cruising through Facebook last night, I came across a picture that I thought was rather innocent and wonderful.

The picture was of a smiling happy mommy and a very chubby baby boy.  The little guy was a breastfed baby and is now a healthy 6 year old according to the caption of the photo.  It's very important to note here that breastfed babies cannot be overfed.  As a former breastfeeding mom, I can testify that when 2.0 was full, he stopped nursing.  My husband was a little butterball of a kid and he was breastfed.  He wasn't fat because he was overeating.  He was just a chubby baby.

I cruised through the comments on the picture and most were innocuous but there were a few that I found highly offensive.  These comments berated the mother for allowing the child to be 'obese' and claimed that she was abusing her child and CPS should be called.  The last comment I read summed it up for me and inspired this post.  No matter what a mother does or doesn't do, she's going to be criticized and scorned.  Someone somewhere is going to find fault with the 'perfect mother'.

I've posted here before about the elderly women who told me I should never take my child outside without socks on (this was before he was walking) and that I should be ashamed for taking him out barefoot in 60 degree weather.  What they didn't know was that he was wearing socks when we left the house.  They just ended up with the rest of the socks I'd tried to put on him that were scattered around my van.  2.0 doesn't like socks.  He still doesn't like wearing just socks unless he has no choice.  When we get home, he's pulling his socks off as soon as the shoes come off.  It's just the way he is.

This winter I've been given dirty looks for letting him go outside without a hat.  What these stink eye givers don't know is that 2.0 has a hat.  In fact, he has two of them.  Once we get in the van however, that hat goes flying and sometimes I just don't feel like fighting with him to put it back on if he's going to scream and throw himself down on the ground over the stupid hat.  If he wants his ears to be cold, so be it.  Sometimes that teaches him more than fighting with him about the hat does.

A very good friend of mine welcomed her first daughter in January and at her baby shower, I told her to trust her gut.  As a mother, you know what is best for your child.  It's not a coincidence that SIDS deaths started to go down when doctors started listening to mothers when they brought their children to the ER and said that 'something is just not right'.  A mom knows what's going on with her child.

I can listen to my son's breathing at night and tell if he's going to end up with pneumonia or an asthma attack in the next few days.  Have I been wrong?  Sure.  But did my intuition prevent an asthma attack or pneumonia because I took precautions before he could get sick?  Who knows.

It's not easy being a mommy.  When something goes wrong or a stranger perceives something she doesn't like, it's Mommy who gets blamed for it.  If a mom decides that crying it out doesn't work for her (like this mommy did), she hears about spoiling her child or babying her child or how so and so didn't let her child cry it out and now he's 45 and still living at home.  A mom decides to cloth diaper and she's perceived as a hippie freak who only thinks about the environment or as a supermom who must have all this time to kill because she's able to wash diapers (this is just a guess on my part because I wasn't able to cloth diaper).  A stay at home mom is looked upon as a woman who lays around on the couch all day eating bon bons and watching soap operas (by the way, that perception is SO NOT TRUE).  A working mom is looked at as a woman who valued her career over her children when that isn't the case at all.

I leave you with this thought: how much easier would it be for a woman to effectively be a mom if society loved her for taking care of her child in whatever way she sees fit (unless it causes harm to said child) instead of condemning her for making a choice between a societal rock and hard place?  What if we just looked at the chubby baby and said 'look at the cute little guy' instead of 'that baby is obese and someone should call CPS'?

Being a mom is one of the greatest things I'll ever do in my life.  I refuse to let someone else make me believe that I'm not doing right because my son hates his socks and doesn't want to wear a hat today.  He knows that his mommy loves him and will always be there when he needs her.  That's success and no one can take that from me.

The 2 Year Check Up

Until now, 2.0 has had a doctor's appointment every 3-6 months.  He was stripped down to his diaper (which I would have to change) and placed on a little scale to be weighed, followed by being stretched out on the exam table and measured while laying flat.  At his 18 month appointment, the nurse told me that his 2 year appointment would be different.

Today we took off his shoes and he stepped on the big boy scale and stood with his heels against the wall and was measured while standing straight up.  My little baby really is a big boy now.

2.0 is 34 inches tall and weighs 30 pounds even.  He's tall and he's gaining weight like he's supposed to.  Hearing that his weight is in the 75th percentile seemed to scare his father a little bit and there was talk about restricting some of the food in his diet, but I'm not concerned about his weight.  Once summer comes 2.0 will be so active that his diet won't be an issue.  He loves fruits and veggies and eats well.  

My little boy is very healthy.  He was playing with toys and pulling books out from under the exam table.  His pediatrician was also amazed that 2.0 speaks as well as he does and that he's reading words back to me, words I haven't said to him.  

Another wonderful part of this visit was the complete absence of shots.  No shots until his flu shot later this year.  I left with a very happy little boy.

Next goal: potty training!

2.0 is 2

At this very moment two years ago my son burst forth into the world.  He was greyish purple, slimy, and wide awake when our eyes met for the first time.  I didn't believe this was my son; this tiny helpless thing couldn't be mine.  I remember thinking for a split second that this was the little person who'd been kicking my bladder for so many months.  This was the little person who's impending arrival had been heralded by the tiny word 'pregnant' on a digital pregnancy test I hadn't wanted to take and didn't believe at first.  This was the little person who would change everything forever.

Now he looks like this.  He's full of energy and wonder and runs all over the place with reckless abandon.  The world is so full of new things that he's almost overwhelmed by it all.  He's fearless and stubborn.  But those beautiful green and gold eyes shine with love.  It's quite a change from the storm cloud grey eyes I saw for the first time a couple years ago.

We've experienced so much in this past year.  He started to walk, which was followed quickly by running so fast that his poor little legs just couldn't keep up with him.  He finally started to talk at 16 months, which was followed by babbling mimicry that had Nate and I watching the words that we said.  Now he's stringing words together in small sentences that have syntax.  I'm not the only one who can understand what he's saying either.

He's book crazy and asks me to read to him every day for about half an hour at a time.  It probably helps that we go to the library two or three times a week.  He's reading words back to me now.  I'm in awe of the amount of intelligence he has in that big brain of his.

This past year we also discovered that 2.0 is ambidextrous.  He prefers his left hand when doing most things but can use his right hand to do those same things with just a slight difference in muscle tone and spatial relation.

He is also very sweet and kind.  He's gentle when playing with someone smaller than himself and he pays special attention to little girls, not because we've told him to but because he figured out on his own that little girls are more delicate than he is.  He's a cuddly little precious boy who hugs me every single morning and night and says 'amen' when we're done praying at night.  He sings "Jesus Loves Me" when he thinks I'm not listening (but I'm always listening).

The last year has been wonderful and I'm so thankful that this special little guy is in my life for the rest of my life.  There will never be another time with him like this.  Happy birthday Nathan!

Mama Bear

For some women the birthing experience is a galvanizing moment.  No longer is she just as she is.  Suddenly life bursts forth from her own body.  There's pain and swelling and all sorts of disgusting things that happen in that moment, but not a single one of them matters when you see that purple slippery person who doesn't quite look like a person laid on your heaving chest.  That moment creates a brand new entity.

My son only left me twice in the hospital.  The first time the nurse didn't bring him back in the five minutes she had promised, so I got up and put on my robe and slippers and hobbled down to the nursery.  It wasn't that I didn't trust the nurse to take care of my child, it was that she hadn't delivered my treasured and beloved son back to me when she'd said she would.  Something must be wrong.  It turns out that when she laid him on the scale, the swaddling blanket she'd put on the scale did not stop the cold metal from reaching his back and 2.0 proceeded to pee all over himself, the scale, the window, the counter, the bassinet, and the nurse herself.  This required a lot of clean up that took longer than five minutes.

After that moment, I went where he went.  I was present for his first check up in the nursery with Dr. Omar. I was holding his hand and sticking a finger dipped in sugar water in his mouth to comfort him while he was circumcised.  I've held him for every shot, every illness, every injury that he's had.  He doesn't leave my sight very often.  When he does leave with his grandparents, they are given very specific instructions and I make sure my phone is turned up so I can hear it if there's a problem.  The toddler classroom at church knows exactly what part of the church I will be in before 2.0 stays with them.

I don't helicopter parent as much anymore.  When 2.0 falls down, I ask him if he's okay and when he says "yeah" I just leave it alone.  But the moment he falls and I hear the cry that starts and then stops because he's breathing in enough air to scream, I have him scooped in my arms and he's cradled against my heart so fast that my husband can't understand how I move that fast.

You see, when my son was born I metamorphosed into Mama Bear.  I can lift a car off of him if I need to.  I move with seemingly super human speed when he starts to slip on the ice outside so he doesn't actually fall.  My extremely sensitive hearing can detect when he makes a noise that indicates distress in the middle of the night.  I will go out in the cold without a coat on to retrieve a beloved sippy cup left in the car without feeling the burn of the freezing wind.

I think Mama Bear should get an insignia and a cape.  For just as Daddy is Superman, Mommy is a superhero too.

Taming The Temper Tantrum

In the past four months I've noticed some changes in my sweet-tempered little boy.  He's not so sweet all the time anymore.  At seemingly random times he starts screaming and throwing himself down on the floor or just has crying fits that last about fifteen minutes or so.  He doesn't ask for things so much as he demands them and when I don't move fast enough, or deny him altogether, he starts screeching and screaming again.  The thing that bothers me the most is the willful refusal to obey when I tell him to do something or, as his father and I are noticing more often, his refusal to NOT do something.  

Welcome to the Terrible Twos.

I'm embarrassed at his public displays of displeasure and I'm afraid of becoming one of those parents who just can't seem to get a handle on her child's awful behavior.  I also don't want to be the mom who is pushing her cart through the aisles, ignoring the screaming red-faced toddler flailing in the front of the cart next to her purse.  I've gone in search of answers.

Most of the books I've seen are just horrible and I won't even bother to name them.  I found myself back with Dr. Dobson and Bringing Up Boys.  It was nice to have a simple reminder of what gentle loving discipline is like as my son's temperament changes.  Underneath this frustrated toddler exterior lies a sweet, soft, gentle heart.  

Nate and I are spanking parents.  A firm hand applied to the rear end can redirect a tantrum and serves as a reminder that certain behavior is never tolerated.  Spanking keeps us consistent in the rules we've established and translate universally from Mommy to Daddy.  We do not spank with anything other than an open hand and we never spank in anger or frustration.  We also explain to 2.0 why he got the spanking.

Spanking doesn't always help a temper tantrum however.  Sometimes it just makes it worse.  So it was time to move on to another solution.

While holding my son during one of his tantrums, I came to a rather obvious conclusion.  He's not mad at me and he's not mad at his father.  He's not really mad at all.  He's very frustrated.

What if I could see what I wanted on a surface higher than I could reach and wanted to ask for help but couldn't speak so that I was easily understood?  What if the repeated fumbling attempts of my caretakers made that frustration worse?  How would I express that frustration?  I might start screaming for what I wanted and I just might throw myself on the floor and if I couldn't find a way to express my desires in the first place, well I just might start crying for no apparent reason and sob for a little while until I felt better.

So I started redirecting his tantrum.  Instead of having him focus on what he can't do or can't have, I show him something he can do.  I get quiet instead of screaming back at him and Nate and I have taught him a song about patience.  When we tell him in the store or in the car that he needs to have patience, we've noticed that he starts singing that song and suddenly it's better for a little while.  I put my arms around him when the fit gets bad and I hold him tight until he's able to control himself.  Through it all, I remind him that I love him, but that his behavior is inappropriate and he needs to calm down.

Surprisingly this works.  Not just sometimes.  It works all the time for him.  I've never had to leave a store because of my screaming kiddo.  I've never had to spank him in public.  I only have to redirect or get very quiet.  Then as quickly as it came, the tantrum passes.  

I've also noticed that I have to be highly observant of naptime.  But that's for another post.  

Presence

2.0 has a love affair with a wonderful play place called Monkey Joes.  He absolutely loves playing on the inflatable bouncy slides and climbing up the bouncy walls and just running all over the place without having a parent tell him he can't.  It's also nice to have a place to take my energetic little boy when the weather isn't conducive to letting him play outside.  He asks to go there by name and became more excited over the prospect of going yesterday when I told him we were going today.  He doesn't get that excited about anything, not even seeing Meemaw or Peepaw.

Today's visit was disappointing.  I was struck by many different things that I realize now I've seen before and either didn't notice or filed away to be analyzed later.  I'm not one to judge another parent's style or call their methods into question unless that parent is damaging their child with either the style or the method.  What I saw today made me think of that and more, what that parent's style or method could mean for my own child.

2.0 is small.  He's almost 2 and he's tall for his age, but when he's playing with children who are much older than him, I notice just how small he really is still.  We were playing on the equipment at Monkey Joes and several older children were moving from apparatus to apparatus around us.  My child was almost trampled by these kids.  They paid no attention to what was going on around them.

I climbed up on a slide behind 2.0 and put him in my lap so we could slide down together.  Right behind me, without even waiting until I got up off the bottom of the slide, two kids planted their sneakers right in the small of my back.  Later on we saw a 7 year old boy climb through the floor and through the inflated part of the equipment and then pop up and accuse my husband of stepping on him when he wasn't supposed to play there anyway.

The question I'm still asking myself is where were their parents?

But I already know the answer because I looked around before I left.  The adults were sitting at various tables, fingers flying over their smartphones and not an eye on their children.  Were there any parents actually playing with their kids?  Sure.  There were a few.  But the little girl who was barely the same size as my son didn't have a parent anywhere near her.  What happens to that little one when these big kids push and shove her around?

I might not like it all the time, but when I'm with my son, I'm WITH my son.  I'm right there.  Do I wish I could have more time for myself?  Sure I do.  I'm human just like anyone else and I'd love to have more time to be extremely selfish and do my own thing.  When I became a parent, I decided that I wanted to put the welfare of another person before my own desires.  It is my responsibility to make sure that my child is safe above anything else.  So why weren't these other parents making sure their children were safe at the very least?

My son deserves to have a parent who is there with him.  He deserves to believe that he's the most important thing in the universe to me.  Don't we all want to believe that someone finds us that important?  That special? Even as an adult, I like knowing that if I call my mom and she's able to answer the phone (Read: not working or doing something else because I'm an adult and know the world does not revolve around me) that she's going to talk to me.  I think it's comforting for a child to believe that when he's playing, his mom or dad is right there to make sure that he's not hurt.  It's even better when the parent is playing with the child so that they can have fun together.

Maybe I'm not being fair.  Maybe these parents have more than one child.  How can I, a parent with only one child, make a judgment about parents with more than one kiddo?  What I want to know is how can a parent with more than one kid find time to sit and play with a phone while the children are running all over the place and not even bother to look up?

I hope that when Nate and I are blessed with another child that we never lose sight of how important our presence is to our son.  I hope that I'm never so tired and frustrated and irritated that I just sit and let 2.0 run around by himself, at least not until he's older.  I don't want my child to ever miss out on my presence.

Coming Soon...

I'm technologically barren right now.  My little pink Acer Netbook is finally dead, rather the charger is dead which complicates things for me since writing blog entries doesn't go over so well on a smartphone.  It doesn't matter how smart your smartphone is either apparently.

A new computer is coming soon...hopefully.  As my sewing machine just broke, I'm starting to wonder if technology just hates me.

Weight Management Update

If you're like millions of Americans, you may have made a New Year's resolution.  You may have resolved to lose weight or quit smoking or to manage your money better.  I personally didn't make any resolutions but I've been on a journey for a few months that I now feel comfortable sharing with you.

Way back in October I visited my family doctor for a routine check up.  Granted, I was diagnosed with MRSA at that visit and that dominated my life for awhile.  While in the office I was also weighed and I came in at a whopping 324 pounds.  4 pounds heavier than I was when I started losing weight before my son was conceived.  I was horribly depressed and called a medical professional that I knew would be straight with me but would also understand my motivation for wanting to lose the weight.  I called my obgyn.

At the weight I was, conceiving another child would be impossible.  I needed to do something quick or 2.0 would be an only child.  My obgyn educated me on changing my eating habits and adding exercise to my life.  He also gave me a hand up.  He gave me a medication called Adipex.

You might think that taking medicine to lose weight is cheating.  You might think that I'm being lazy.  That's not the case at all.  Adipex helped give me energy to work out and it's controlling my appetite.  My stomach is shrinking and I don't want to eat when I'm not actually hungry.  When you're chasing after a toddler all day, you eat what's easy and convenient, which also happens to be very bad for you and creates even more exhaustion.  I was tired all the time and that was just from regular everyday life.  Never mind trying to work out too.

Now I no longer eat a lot of fried foods.  I drink lots of water and eat smaller portions that consist of lots of fruits and veggies and lean proteins.  Do I still eat sugar?  Yes, but I'm not eating it like I did before.  I'm making healthier choices for myself and for my family.

I weighed myself a few days ago and I've lost 30 pounds!  I'm officially weighed in at my obgyn's office in a week and a half and I'm hoping to lose more.  Maybe 2.0 will get a sibling after all.