HEAD BANGING

I'm not dead. I know it looks like I am because goodness knows I never blog, but this Real Life stuff keeps happening.


Busy, busy, busy. I still haven't found any work-life balance. But I did win $50 in a writing contest. Which is like 1 case of diapers so that's nothing to sneeze at.

The babeola is inching closer to talking while scaring the bejeesus out of me with horrific tantrums. Where are the auditions for Extreme Tantrum? Because my babeloa is a star in the making. She actually has a bruise on her forehead from purposely smacking her head on hard surfaces. We daily live in danger of having our noses broken by an errant head butt. The other day I thought she was leaning in to cuddle only to yelp in pain when she smashed her head into my knee.

If I say no to her or express displeasure with something she does, she immediately looks for a place to smack her head. This self-harming behavior is distressing to say the least. I've tried ignoring it, but then read that's not a good idea so now I run around trying to keep her from hurting herself and failing miserably.

The tantrums last a long time too. Hours on some days. You've heard of interval training in exercise? The babeola interval tantrums, maintaining a steady state mild tantrum that spikes to extremes. This is either proof of me being a bad parent--which really, what kind of crappy mom am I that I can't figure this tantrum stuff out?-- or a testament to the babeola's strength of will. Or both.

Regardless, I am tired of feeling like a crappy mom and the incessant checking to be sure the babeola's pupils are the same size to rule out head trauma.

Thoughts? Advice?

FROM GARBAGE RISES THE PHOENIX

Around 7 years ago, we picked an old school desk out of the garbage with the intent we would use it for our kids someday. We didn't know yet that we were infertile or the heartache that awaited us as we strived for a family. We were innocent and blissfully ignorant.

The desk sat and sat and sat in our garage becoming a painful symbol of everything we thought we'd never have. Yet we never threw it out. Never even thought about it.

Last week my husband finished refinishing the desk and brought it home for the babeola. Somehow the circle finally feels complete.

IS THAT WHY ELMO IS RED?

Is it just me or am I the only one who noticed that, on the Elmo potty training DVD, Elmo wears a shirt, Elmo's Dad wears a shirt, but Elmo's Mom is topless.

What is up with that?

And did you ever notice that none of the kids on Syd the Science Kid have eyelashes? They probably all have a heavy Visine habit.

As for food, this is disgusting, but essential information. Do you know what red food dye is made from? Do you??? It's all natural, which is NOT a plus in this case.

Red food dye is made from bugs. Scaly bugs that look a bit like potato bugs.  Think about that the next time you slurp a maraschino cherry off its stem.

Which brings us back to the title, are the bugs the reason why Elmo is red?

Could be since the bugs are also used to make textile dyes.

I am SO grossed out.

MONDAY

The babeola was crying revelry at 6 am this morning. Ugh. And she has just taken the shortest nap in a long time. Double Ugh.

I still managed to accomplish something today though...

--Ran the dishwasher
--Scrubbed crayon off the living room walls
--Ran a load of laundry
--Spit polished 5 articles and sent them off (cross your fingers for a happy client.)

And just when I was getting ready to kick back and indulge in some me time, guess who wakes up? Sigh.

I also checked my ad revenue share articles and found I'm up to $8. I think I was less than $5 last time I posted? I was happy with the $8 up until I learned about someone who is at $30 in less than a month.

I wonder what I'm doing wrong?

Oh, and I found out a lot of people are making $1000+ a month doing web content writing for the same site I work with. I'd like to know where they find the time? I am so busy with the babeola, it's all I can do to crank out $100 worth of web content a week (and I'm not even trying this week because I have too much going on). Plus, how do they write so fast anyway? Maybe I'm doing too much research? Then again, I also pick stuff I don't know anything about, but that I know I can research so maybe that's why I'm the turtle?

I don't know! I hope I figure out how this all works at some point!


By the way Parent Juice is getting really good traffic so far, more than 100 hits in three days. Thanks for checking it out, I hope you liked what you saw (Did you see the toilet paper thing with the Bangles Walk Like An Egyptian video? I was kind of proud of that--brings back memories.).

OPEN FOR BUSINESS

This is my first niche blogging site...if you want to contribute, here are the contributor guidelines.  Note that contributors are compensated.

WORKING MOM

I took the babeola to the zoo today where she was enamored by a) other kids and b) a rock-like chunk of concrete. Lions, flamingos, and condors are just so not cool.  Eh. I bought a year membership so maybe, with time, she'll notice something besides the masses and the concrete jungle.

In other news... freelance writing is an insane amount of work and it pays poorly. I'm feeling a little burned out and also looking at other, easier ways to make money online. Since I am not hot enough to do nudie type internt things, I'm hoping to start some monetized niche blogs. I also plan to continue with the ad revenue writing for a while until I am sure it is or is not profitable.

Ironically, one of the reasons why freelance writing pays so little is due to ad revenue sharing websites. That and people in India who provide online content for like a buck because, despite what the US Department of Education maintains, grammar and spelling are really not important. All that matters is whether or not someone clicks an ad.

I have 5 articles due on Monday and then I'm taking a break from up front pay work. One of the things that really bothers me about up front work is they want instant turnaround. I was looking at signing up with another content service, but they want 2500 words in 48 hours, which includes keyword research, topic research, product research, writing and editing. I sat down last night and roughly calculated how much free time I have each week and yo, I have like 20 hours of downtime a week, if I'm lucky. 20 hours in which I must tutor, do tutor paperwork, work out, run errands, blog, relax, and eat.  For me to write 2500 words in 2 days is impossible, I can't handle that kind of deadline.

Well...if let the babeola watch TV all day, everyday and I stay up until midnight, I can get more work done. Except that really starts to run me down because I don't get to sleep until 1am and then the babeola is screaming morning revelry at 7am. Not to mention the brain frying TV addiction. So freelance writing is not the easy mom friendly solution it is cracked up to be. However, there is money to be made. If I can find a happy balance between deadlines and my ability to do the work, things might be good. Lately, the whole thing has just been stressing me out big time though.

I'm really crossing my fingers that the ad revenue share work pays off. Tons of people are supposedly making $500 a month or more. From what I understand (and I've read 3 books on the topic now) there's no reason I shouldn't be able to do it too. Plus, there are no deadlines.

My moles were all normal by the way. So yay for no cancer or pre-cancer. I am laughing though because Kaiser is so damn cheap they didn't shave my nape, just cut the mole off and slapped a bandaid over my hair. So the bandaid didn't stick well enough to cover the wounds and migrated as my hair and neck moved. One of my moles, they couldn't figure out how to bandage due to hair, so I got nothing.

I'm of the thinking Kaiser is lucky I didn't pick up an infection. I really do wonder at their business model. In the aggregate they may save money, but I question at what risk to patients.

Oh! And the Mother's Day epilogue. I got some perfume. Not wrapped. No card, but I think that's the best the husband could do given his obvious holiday disability. Christmas is a nightmare of a similar nature. Thankfully, the husband is pretty spectacular on non-holiday days and I think I'm just going to try and be grateful that holidays aren't that prevalent.

WAITING FOR GODOT TO TAKE A NAP

The babeola is currently partying in her crib, babbling, tossing, turning and just in general having more fun than Paris Hilton in New York.

Me? I have a pounding headache and a cake hangover. Some people drink. I eat cake. And my body is not cake friendly so I have a carb overload at the moment.

Anyway, this will be existentially scattered, which I'm sure you've already realized. I had three moles removed for biopsy today.

In case you didn't know, I am holey moley girl. Moles a plenty and one came back pre-cancerous at the end of 2008--ahh the good old days when I had better health insurance--so it seemed like a good idea to test a few more today.

Happily, aside from meeting with an endocrinologist later this month, I am now pretty much established within the Kaiser Permanente network.  I am hoping this means I never have to go back again. Especially now that they've cut me and made me bleed.

Use your sunscreen my chickadees. One with both UVA and UVB protection. It makes a difference.

Hey, I actually started this post to bitch about Mother's Day. So how about we get to it? Here's how M day has been to date...

While I was pregnant:  "You don't count, you're not a mom yet."  This after 4 years of infertility treatments. Ouch. Husband got in heaps of trouble that year. Heaps. He'll never live it down in fact.

After the babeola was born: I had to help the husband find the card he'd bought because he lost it, then I had to remind him to sign it and give it to me. Lame.

This year: Nothing, which we were too busy running around and making the babeola cute for great-grandma for me to really notice. Plus, guess what? I'm allergic to shell fish. Or cats. Something to where I was taking Benadryl to relieve the buzzy itching in my lips.

Sooooooo the upshot of this recap is, where do we sign up for there the remedial 'How to not be a jerk on Mother's Day' class, also sometimes known as the 'Where to buy Mother's Day cards and pens with which to sign them'? Because I think someone needs to go.

Although I'm mostly laughing. Because the irony of working so damn hard for motherhood only to be not just ignored, but summarily dismissed on the big M Day is kind of funny.

Kind of.

If I squint.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

Happy Mother's Day. I hope all the mommas enjoy their day and my thoughts are with all the mommas-to-be struggling with infertility. That was me once and somehow, through much pain and sacrifice and not so great odds, my happy ending came. Don't give up.

We are going out of town for M Day to visit great grandma in the nursing home. She is over the moon with excitement so hopefully we will make her day.

The babeola is cute as always, but challenging. Very tempermental and she's learned to open the baby gate to to the kitchen which has been a huge pain in the ass. Lots of tantrums over being goose stepped back into the living room by her evil momma. I am such a horrid mother, what with the not sharing the knives or letting her hide in the dishwasher...the babeola will be calling CPS herself as soon as she can figure out how to work the phone.

Ad revenue income has gone from $4.70 to $5.70 which is a huge jump in just two days. I am pleased and continue to hope I've found a simple (for me at least) way to make income. The writing contracts are pretty loosey goosey and the companies can delete my content, cancel my account, or decide not to pay their writers at all, which makes me anxious.

BEFORE YOU CALL 911, PUT IN A BABY EINSTEIN DVD

Calling 911 for an allergic reaction to antibiotic #2 is not my idea of a fun Friday night, but clearly, I have no control over the script of my little medical soap opera. I have never had an allergic reaction where I couldn't breath and I always have Benadryl in the house...except for last night. So I ask you...Got Benadryl? It's the only reason I'm not in the ER right now. 

Possibly the only reason I'm alive.

About five minutes after I took the first dose, my tongue started to itch. Then I began clawing at my body, trying to rip off my clothes so I could scratch myself bloody. Recognizing it as an allergic reaction, I called the nurse line and asked what to do.

Since I was breathing okay and by then it had been twenty minutes, we figured we were safe sending my husband out to the drugstore for Benadryl. What we didn't know, and what the nurse failed to inform us, was that a severe allergic reaction can take up to 4 hours to manifest. It's not always immediate. Another thing that went unmentioned is hives on the face and chest almost always mean airway swelling will occur, although the severity is variable.

The nurse did tell me to take a bath in baking soda though. Every time I call the Kaiser Permanente nurse line they tell me to do something to my body with baking soda. It's like they have a fetish or own stock or something.

Anyway, while my husband was gone, I started having difficulty breathing. So I hung up on the nurse and called 911, somehow managing to simultaneously throw a DVD in for the babeola. This is probably the best metaphor for motherhood I can think of, you never again do anything without taking care of your kids, not even almost dying. You never come first again, even when maybe you should. (Not that I'm complaining, it's just the harderst part of the job to explain to non-moms.)

The babeola watched the DVD to the exclusion of all else. Paramedics invading my living room have nothing on Baby MacDonald. The husband got home with the Benadryl ahead of the ambulance so, thankfully, by the time EMS pulled into our driveway I was starting to breathe a little easier.

They checked me out. We debated if I should go to the hospital or not and settled on not. They left--the dvd had ended at this point so the babeola blew kisses and waved and was super cute.

Then my nasal airways promptly swelled shut.

But I still felt okay (surprisingly) and rolled with it, mouth breathing like a prank caller until midnight when I took another dose of Benadryl. By then, I could finally take a deep breath and breathe through my nose.

I had taken this antibiotic before with no problem. This really just hit out of the blue. 

Today I'm going to the store and stocking up on Benadryl, both the liquid and the pill. It's easier to swallow a liquid when your throat is swelling shut, you know?

So mommas back to the original question, got Benadryl? Because I'm living proof no home should be without.

ABOUT THE WRITING (and some whining about the sick)

As for what I'm writing...everything and anything. Medical stuff, business stuff, how to do stuff. I just completed a piece on the culture of a common food (can't say much due to a non-disclosure agreement) which had me delving into archeology, anthropology, history, and art. That one was a lot of work and I think I lost money with all the time I devoted to research.

I like the medical writing the best. I love anatomy and physiology and science. Plus, it appears I have that drug side effect narrator from the drug commercials in my head. The medical jargon just pours out of me effortlessly, like a native language.

I do both up front pay and ad revenue sharing gigs. The ad revenue is a slow build, but I am pleased to report 80% of my articles have earned money, which I think is fantastic given that I've only been writing for ad revenue for a week. I don't know how much I'll end up making overall, but I think I have potential to at least make $50 a month with ad revenue writing (although I'm aiming for and dream of being one of the writers who makes hundreds a month). Time will tell.

As for the sick... ugh. I think I need to go back to the doctor. Cue litany of swear words and mental picture of Yosemite Sam stomping on his hat and pounding his chest. I am annoyed beyond all words.

The babeola is talking up a storm. Yesterday she said duck, potty, what's that, and I would like some. Despite my slovenly ways, she exhibits a strong tendency toward order and cleanliness. She'll put toys away, throw out garbage, and try to organize the chaos we call a house. She's watching too much TV because I've been too sick to keep her busy. The weather is finally nice and I'm so bummed that we aren't able to take advantage of it because of this stupid sick.

And that's it. Cheers.

ONE THEORY PROVEN

Hey remember when I lost my mojo to the flu and it never quite came back and I kind of wondered if something was festering? Well please give a warm welcome to my brand new Sinus Infection.

Good Lord what have I done to deserve this? I have been getting sick, being sick, or festering for a month. A month!!!!! Geez Louise. When will it end?

As for the crib, I found a rental business except they haven't responded to my email so we'll see. For the overnight, we'll get by with our recalled pack-n-play which is safe enough for a toddler even though the bar collapses. I wouldn't use it for an infant, but it's okay for a toddler if the collapsed side is against the wall.

For the week long trip we'll disassemble a crib and take it with us if we have to. We have to have something to corral her because we don't take naps and her bedtime is way earlier than we want to go to bed. Plus, I have a feeling the novelty of it all will rev her up.

I was made to sleep in really crappy places as a kid. On a linoleum floor, love seats that were too short, and a 3/4 bed (which I don't even get why they make those things, for 3/4 people?). I hated it as a child so I try not to do the same thing to my kid. Not to mention, the better she sleeps, the happier I am.

Which, by the way, hello 5am wake-up call after being up all night with sinus pain. Good thing Daddy's home to help out otherwise I would be a major momma bear today.

SPEED ROUND AND QUESTION

I am swamped with freelance writing. Even had a nightmare about typos. And no I never really planned to make $$$ freelance writing, it just kind of happened. On the good side, I am making money right off the bat, on the down side I am working my ass off without having done any pre-planning or conscious organization of this brand new career. Seat of the pants is apparently my middle name.

The babeola has hit the 18 month sleep regression. Or rather, it has hit me like a brick wall. Currently, I am doing my damndest to ignore the 6 am wake up call that came shrieking out of the babeola this morning. I tossed her a bottle and some books and prayed for more sleep. Not happening, so here I am on blogger still trying to gather my strength so I can wake up already and face the fact that I am going to have to function on less than five hours of sleep. Again.

Anyway, until I figure out a work-life balance with the freelance writing, expect me to be scarce. I'm in the thick of the learning curve and it's taking all my concentration. I'll try to do short updates as I can.

OH! And MAJOR QUESTION....Would you invest in a full size travel crib. We are going to be travelling and staying in people's homes--homes without children--and need a place for the babeola to sleep. If you think we should pass on the full size travel crib (remember she's TALL hence the full size) how do you propose we handle sleeping? Pinning her to the bed like a WWF wrestler until she surrenders???

Here is some babeola cute for you...

 

 

ALIVE BUT NOT KICKING

So I still haven't pulled myself up off the floor of the ring after this last round of sick. I just have zero energy and I don't know why. In theory, I am no longer sick although my energy slump has me wondering if something might be festering in my lungs and it just hasn't hit me yet? I don't know.

Anyway, I thought I would do a blog post to let y'all know I'm alive.

My other writing buddy sold two books to Juno that will come out in 2010. I'll post more details when I have them, but Way To Go!!! I started our little writing group 5?6? years ago when  we all met at a convention. Since then we have been diligently supporting each other and now look, two members with multibook deals. That is awesome!

Now if I could just get my writing back on track maybe I could sell a book or three as well. Urgh. Need more time.

The freelance writing gig is going okay. I had hoped for steady income, but I think they are going to pull the old 'revenue sharing' switcheroo on me where upfront payment is replaced by .0000000001% of ad revenue. Which sucks.

Tutoring is not going well. Another student was let go for chronic no shows but has not been replaced so I'm out that money. One student is brilliant but hasn't grasped the difference between being smart and actual ly knowing something. This student argues with me constantly and everything they do wrong is my fault. At least I'm getting some experience with unruly teenagers.

And that's it.

DISCIPLINE WITH FEVER

I am still sick. Now I have a fever and chills. Tomorrow back to the doctor, unless the fever breaks and by some miracle I feel perfect. What are the odds of another kidney infection? In the same kidney? And if that really happens, why do I always win those odds and not the lottery?

However, I wanted to talk about discipline for a moment just to help flesh out some of my ideas about the topic. I am not a fan of making children eat soap or hot sauce or vinegar. Or spanking. Or locking children in their rooms. I feel these are coercive techniques that address transient behavior at the expense of permanent character development.

I was spanked as a child, up until I became smarter and faster than my parents.Sure spanking formed my character, but not in ways that incentivized me to behave. Instead I became sneaky. My parents finally put up the yardstick when I was 6 after I gave my mother a merry chase and then successfully hid until she couldn't find me. Kudos to them for abandoning something that was obviously not working and not continuing the power struggle.

As for children who don't extrapolate corporeal discipline into sneakiness, they tend to become compliant because they fear the pain. Yet I would argue that the job of a parent is not to create adults who follow the rules because they worry about getting caught, simply because it sets up a corollary where, if they are pretty sure they won't get caught, they do what they want.

If mom isn't there to force hot sauce onto their children's tongues, do kids behave? I would say, probably not.

The goal is to instill character in my children, not coerce compliance through domination and I personally (as well as many parenting experts) don't think corporeal punishment yields the results I'm looking for. I want them to behave even when I'm not looking, and that can only be done with fostering strong independent character.

I didn't give much thought to discipline before becoming a parent. It took me so long to get pregnant and that journey was so precarious, I didn't ever think much beyond pregnancy. I assumed I would use time outs and then I began reading books like Unconditional Parenting, which is an evidence based approach to what helps and what hurts. It's everything you've never heard about parenting.

An example from my own parenting: First a set up...There is an extreme form of operant conditioning propogated by a fundamentalist Christian couple name the Pearls.  According to this philosophy, at five months you can start smacking your baby when they do something you don't like. This inhibits undesirable behavior via a pavolovian aversion to pain. You aren't supposed to ever act in anger, but their methodology has resulted in many allegations of abuse.

While most people don't subscribe to this type of discipline, it is similar in effect to things like hot sauce in that domination and pain are used to control behavior.  When the babeola started grabbing at my jewelery and glasses around five months of age, per the Pearls, I should've smacked her. Instead, I took my hand and modeled gentle on her face, doing and saying the word. It was frustrating and annoying and required almost endless repetition, but, by 9 or 10 months, the babeola demonstrated understanding of and compliance with the word gentle.

This illustrates why I am not a fan of things like washing mouths out with soap. It teaches a very superficial lesson that, depending on the child, can be expressed many different ways. A few examples...

--I have no control/power
--I have to fight for control/power
--The adults in my life overpower me, I don't matter.

But emphasizing the concept gentle begins the process of teaching the babeola how to treat people without diminishing her own power in the world.

Now with all that being said, I bet you dollars to donuts, the babeola will have a time out at some point. There has already been one day where she 'took a break' in her crib because momma was about to lose it! I am sure I will fail all the time and make enormous mistakes. We are all just doing the best we can so I do not mean to pass judgement in any way, but I think this is the kind of stuff worth learning more about.

You can read a large swath of the UP book here, the link takes you to the time out section which I thought was a revelation.

THE OFFICIAL POOP SCALE

"Babeola took an epic dump today," my husband announced upon my return from an outing.

"Hmmm. She's wearing the same outfit. That's not epic."

"Well it was horrible."

"No, horrible requires an outfit change."

Big sigh of aggravation. "Who died and made you the queen of poop?"

"Poop: It's my job."

For the record:

Epic poop:  Clothing change, washing of bed linens, and bath. Oh, and parent is slimed with poo at some point.

Horrible poop: Clothing change.

Terrible poop: Smelly but contained.

My husband was complaining about a terrible poop. He has No Idea.

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS WITH A SIDE OF HUGH JACKMAN

The babeola is sick. Poor bambina. She's always miserable at the start of a cold.

I haven't slept in 2 days and ended up in the ER last night. I am the grand prize winner of a urinary tract infection (UTI). I'm glad I went in, despite feeling very silly about it, as I didn't think I had an infection, but something else.  Except I didn't have the something else.

When I was 20 I had a 'super infection', a UTI that was resistant to antibiotics and migrated to my kidney where it so perfectly mimicked appendicitis, I had surgery. It was only after they saw my appendix was fine that they figured out it was my kidney. I spent about 3 days in the hospital on IV antibiotics (and promptly got mono, but that's another story).

And last night I started to have some kidney pain reminiscent of that infection. It was even the same kidney.

So it's probably a good thing I didn't wait until Monday, but I hate going to the ER*.  I've probably had 15-20 ER visits so far in my life, mostly for asthma, and I've had some bad experiences so I work really hard to avoid going in. And I've read all the med bloggers and know there is nothing they hate more than a 'look at my nether regions' patient. Especially when that patient is nowhere near as hot as Anne Hathaway or Paris Hilton. Hey, I'm not exactly thrilled either. Flashing my nether regions to strangers is not my idea of a good time. And news flash, a lot of the docs do not look like Hugh Jackman (whom I adore and have met and would totally strip for).

Anyway, I'm tired and reduced to whining on my blog about my bladder, which is not how I wanted to spend my weekend. I bet you didn't want to read about it either in which case I redirect you to the fact that I met the super hot stud Hugh Jackman. I even have his autograph somewhere. Here's a pic to help scrub your brain of any unfortunate residue related to this post.

*I suppose I should clarify for anyone who might fume about me wasting emergency resources that I was actually at Urgent Care...which was in the ER. Making it a defacto ER visit. I tried to avoid the ER I really did.

MISSING DADDY, MISSING BABY, MOMMY'S IN HEAVEN

Daddy is back! A day early! AND they gave him a comp day today so we get a three day weekend! YAY! (Currently, both daddy and the babeola are napping so I decided to take advantage of the free time to post.)

I thought the babola would freak when he came home, but she was pretty mellow and didn't seem to notice she'd been abandoned. She was a bit standoffish at first, but quickly warmed up to her favorite playmate. I guess she saves the tears for when Mommy dares to leave the house without her. Whenever I come home it's full blown hysterics.

Or maybe she is hoping I won't come back?!?

The husband missed a few firsts this week as follows;

1.The babeola now turns in circles when she dances.

2.She 'dusts' just like momma does.

3.She said 'birdie' a few times, context appropriate.

4.She learned how to do 'ring around the rosy' with the neighbor girls.

5.She started signing 'I love you'.

6.She started drinking from a cup--just a little bit. I use kefir which is a yogurt drink that is thick and slow moving.

7.She took an epic dump that went from her dupa up to her hair line. I had to cut crusted poop out of her hair. Not exactly what I had planned on for a first haircut. Daddy is happy he missed that diaper.

Yesterday, she sat in my lap and banged away on her xylophone, pausing every once in a while to turn and give me a smooch.  I know it's not a first, but it was so freaking adorable I'm pretty sure I'm writing this post from heaven.

I did okay as a single mom. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be either. I didn't have much help. The neighbor girls came by three afternoons, which isn't really a break for me as they need my help so it's more of something to do. 

The worst part was the dogs really acted up. I don't know if they felt like they had to guard the house since the 'pack leader' wasn't home or what, but they were barking and being really obnoxious at night. They actually kept me up several nights and I had to finally separate them and shut them away at night since free roam of the house led to barking and growling and whining in the wee hours.  They were perfect last night, now that the pack leader is back.

It is good to have Daddy home!

DO THEY DEPROGRAM HOMESCHOOLED KIDS?

I want to homeschool. I really do. Judging from people's reactions to homeschooling though, you would think I've signed up to join a suicide cult.

The biggest refrain I hear is 'what about socialization?'

You mean the paragon of socialization is the ability to sit at a desk all day, stand in a line, be quiet and not piss off the teacher or be bullied by your peers? Or did I miss something in school? I mean, yes, we learn about friendship in school, but you don't have to be in school to make friends.

I don't know. These kids I tutor, I see how the school system is failing them. And I now realize how the school system failed me-- a gifted kid with learning disabilities who took junior level college classes at 16 (I tested out of the lower levels), but who also limped through algebra with Ds due to dyscalculia. I don't want that extreme dichotomy for my daughter. If she is anything like me (inquisitive to the nth degree and bad at math) she will thrive with homeschooling.

If she doesn't like it, I'll send her to school, but I think I can teach her better. I'm sold on individual attention. You can't hide from learning when it's one-on-one, but in a group you can. The same way I read under my desk at the expense of learning how to subtract in the second grade.

I guess becoming a parent has really amped up my non-conformist streak. If you had asked me two years ago to consider homeschooling, I would have thought you were crazy and now look at me.

HUGE PUBLIC RELATIONS FAIL

So the dishwasher seems to be working. For the moment. Maybe whatever the repairman did was enough. Or perhaps it was my threat of sledgehammer in its nether regions.

Which I would totally do.

Because I have inanimate object rage.

It's a personal failing that does not yet have therapy.

True story: The husband and I once saved a desktop that had royally ticked us off--what with the failure to work and costing over $1000 to purchase nevermind the $500 in repairs that didn't work--in order to dangle it from a tree limb and beat it like a pinata. We never did it, but were serious enough about the plan to hang onto the burned out hard drive for almost a year before we realized we were too lazy to take our revenge. 

We are losers.

To illustrate that point beautifully...

The newspaper interview came out and UGH! They edited it down to like one sentence per question and used the worst picture, completely ignoring the nice one of me and the babeola. I failed to get my eco-blog mentioned so there is no chance of the interview spurring ongoing interest. I totally blew it.

If you were worried I was about to become too famous to know you, worry no more.

I need a PR class. A free one because I have to save all my money for the stupid dishwasher ere it break again.

In other news, I am a single mother this week. The husband who NEVER travels for work, is gone all week. I am just praying I still have all my fingers when he gets home because the babeola bites like a bulimic piranha jonesing for a good binge. Don't piss her off, you won't come out the other side with all your limbs intact.

Oh, and smooches to the beautiful Jenners for making me a featured blog. It's nice to be recognized and her kind words made my week.

And I read book 2 of my writing buddy's trilogy and squeeeee! I am a total fangrrl right now. She is rocking the urban fantasy genre.  The first book is available for pre-order on Amazon.com. I believe the super fabulous Tanya Huff gave a blurb for the cover.  Here's the cover...

MULTIPLE MURPHY'S LAWS

1. Children will only sleep in on days parents can't.

2. Goods purchased under the influence of sleep deprivation will suck a**.

To Wit the following Evidence:

The babeola is routinely up at 7am, except for today when she slept past 8. Meaning I slept past 8 and almost missed the dishwasher repairman.

I actually had to wake her sorry dupa up. That hasn't happened since...never.

Now, why can't she sleep like that on days when *I* don't have to be up?

And the dishwasher...I hate that thing. Our old one broke just as I returned to work (before I decided to stay home), still nursing and having to pump. Meaning, the dishwasher was as essential as air. Given that when I was home, I was stuck topless in a chair with the roto rooter, the husband selected and bought a new dishwasher.

We hadn't slept in something like 4 months so you could say our judgement was off.

We got a $700 LG model that had problems from day one. Yet did we ever call LG? Of course not! To our befuddled brains, we just needed to tweak the hoses. Or kill a chicken under a full moon. Something, anything but call the manufacturer and oh, I don't know, invoke the warranty? What kind of people do you think we are? Sane, responsible adults?

The mechanical problems were fluid. The thing would work for weeks and then refuse to do anything for a day. So we just kind of dealt with it and muddled through.  (Which also happens to be our parenting philosophy.)

But I hated it and still hate it. It has a tendency to not clean the dishes so well and just whirl food particles around. Where the chicken will end up no one knows! But definitely not down the drain. No. Can't have that! That would be, you know, actual dish cleaning.

Further, there is no way to turn off the dry cycle and conserve energy with the result that we are sucking more than our fair share of the earth's resources.

The repairman confirmed my suspicions by telling me the cheap dishwasher models do a better job of cleaning dishes. That and he advised we should always buy the extended warranty. Always.

Because, guess what? Our warranty has expired and it will cost us about $350 to repair the *$&%*R@(%$(*&*@ thing.

Meaning, I will be in the kitchen washing dishes by hand.

It's kind of ironic to remember that when we moved into our house, it had an original 1950s two ton steel dishwasher...that didn't work and was used as a breadbox.

Anyone need a $700 breadbox?

WHY I WISH THERE WAS A CAMERA CHIP IN MY BRAIN

#1 At music class the babeola was exposing her 'Buddha Belly' when one of the other toddlers came over and inserted a finger in her belly button with a rich, deep sigh of satisfaction.

Funniest thing I have ever seen in my life.

#2 The babeola, like many littles, is terrified of the vacuum cleaner. If I vacuum when she's awake, I have to hold her while I vacuum. She sobs the whole time and I end up yelling comforting things at the top of my lungs to reassure her (not sure how well that works). Today I spilled some Tylenol capsules and, in a panic to clean them up before the dogs got to them, I ended up using the vacuum.

And then figured, what the hell, I'll vacuum the living room too. So I left it plugged in and set it in the living room while I tended to something else that couldn't wait. The babeola went over to 'explore' and accidentally turned it on.

Next thing I knew, she was barreling down on me like a semi without brakes, our black lab hot on her heels. Both had looks of abject terror on their faces and required lots of hugs and reassurance (What can I say? My dog is a wuss).

I'm still laughing about it. I have never seen her run that fast.

TACTILE BOX PICTURES

DON'T NAP, FIND JESUS

Am I the only one who has problems with solicitors? Today a solicitor banged on my door until they woke the babeola up from her nap. I was furious and less than gracious.

Particularly when I saw it was not someone I had invited or someone I knew. Just someone who thought that because I was home, I was available at their convenience.  Wanting to sell me windows or Jesus or lawn care or politics.

Grrrrr.

This has been an ongoing problem. I have signs on the front door and need to replace the ones on the side door. I have actually seen solicitors read the front door signs and then go to the side door (currently sign free) in an effort to circumvent the 'no soliciting' sign.

Since it is the babeola's naps that save my soul, I am really irate when someone screws that up. Thanks to solicitors, there was no nap today. 

I HATE MY HAIR...OH, AND BY THE WAY I AM FAT

Here are the photos we took today. Some are good, some are not. The really awful ones will be cremated and sent into space.

As it turns out, my skin is not the biggest problem.No. The biggest problem is I need a haircut and some humidity for my hair to curl instead of limply frizz. It would also help if I lost 50lbs (again) but eh, c'est la fat. Anyway, I am mostly happy with the head shots. At least we got something decent and in fewer frames than America's Next Top Model contestants. I think I know why the contestants haven't had a photo shoot with toddlers--it is impossible! I have dozens of pictures of screaming and flared nostrils with toddler boogies hanging like ripe fruit. I don't think Tyra could do better!

FACE SHOT

I am being interviewed by the local paper re: the environmental stuff. Said interview includes a head shot and wouldn't you know, my skin is flaking like a snake shedding its skin and I have two huge cystic pimples on my chin which look a bit like a vampire aimed for the jugular and missed.

Come to find out, part of the skin issue is I screwed up my asthma medication although that doesn't explain the flaking. I've done some facials and what not and it's not helping yet. To make the humiliation complete, I'm attending an eco conference and trying to use make-up that I normally do not wear to keep people from worrying that my entire face is going to slough off. Ugh.

For the photo I'm planning to use the babeola as a shield to try and hide the worst of it. Too bad I can't carry her in front of my face at the conference.

Wish me luck.

DING, DONG, GONE

Hi. Remember me? Yeah, I used to blog here.

See, some relatives came by and stayed and stayed and stayed. I had to be polite and pretend I had no idea what that laptop so conveniently set next to the couch was for. With the slinking innocence of a dog who just ate a shoe, I swore I had NO idea how to open it, let alone type anything.

Now they are gone. So I can be me again and Get It ON with the 'puter hot and heavy like I used to.

Except I have nothing new to report. Because I have no life. Or too much life. Or too much laundry.

Something.

Can you tell I'm in a bit of an irreverent mood today? Sleep deprivation will do that.The neighbor comes home every night at midnight, as reliable as a sunrise. The snick of the door shutting, the beep-beep of the car alarm, and the motion sensor light set to 'stun' and aimed directly into my room like an interrogation lamp are worse than a breastfeeding newborn during a growth spurt. Ugh. Thank you neighbor, but the insomnia does not need any help. I was not sleeping just fine on my own.

Houseguests stress me out.

Anyway...The babeola is growing up big and strong. Talking is going to be the next big thing around here. I know I will regret saying this as several people have warned me about toddler motor mouths, but I can't wait to hear what's in her head.

The husband and I went on a date and did the game version of environmental activism. We also went to a movie so horrible, we're trying to pretend it never happened.

Mothering is going well at the moment. I have managed to match activities with the babeola's abilities rather well lately. I made a 'tactile box' filled with uncooked rice, rocks, beads, feathers, and some spoons. We (husband and I) sit on the front porch and chat while the babeola practices scooping and runs the rice through her fingers.


Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to go stuff my face with comfort food and try to relax.

VARIETY IS THE SPICE OF BLOGGING

Sorry folks, today is a hodge podge. I'm  just so busy and distracted by Real Life these days that I haven't had time to formulate anything about anything.

1. We went to our first Gymboree Art Class. Since they start each class with playdoh and playdoh is the babeola's 'precious' (picture Golem with The Ring) predictably there was a huge tantrum when it was time to say bye-bye to the playdoh. Then we did collage type stuff. Or rather, mommy did collage type stuff, the babeola alternately watched, tantrumed, and shredded paper. My only criticism of the class is there are a lot of transitions. We did something like 5 activities in 45 minutes. That's a lot of change and saying bye-bye to things we've just fallen in love with. The babeola wasn't the only one screaming.

2. I set the neighbor girls (our mother's helpers) up with watercolors and tried to get a painting session going. Unfortunately, the babeola spent most of the time trying to shove either end of her paintbrush up her nose.  At what point does art click for toddlers? The babeola isn't into crayons. Playdoh is for clutching and guarding with her very life. Paintbrushes are just long booger wands. Urgh.

3.Continuing with the art theme, today I had some success with one of those paint with water books. The book is about 30 years old. It's from my (deceased) grandmother's teaching stash which my aunt passed on to me. I think she retired from teaching in the early 80s. So the colors are a bit faded. Grandma would be happy to see us using it though. One, she hated waste and two, she loved doing stuff like that with her grandkids. Despite arthritis, she was always on the floor playing with me.

I miss my Grandma.

4. I'm currently trying to figure out how to blow big, big bubbles. I want to make ginormous bubbles on the front lawn with the babeola on the next decent day we get. I bought some Gymboree bubble solution and it was not as good as everyone says it is. I'm now looking at homemade recipes.

5.I think the babeola was the youngest one in the art class, yet, due to her height, she looks the oldest. I noticed some calculating looks along the lines of 'what is wrong with that kid.'  I had to resist the urge to randomly announce that she's only sixteen months. It's hard to be a giantess in training. Especially at this age when size is equated very strongly with age, behavior and ability.

6. As part of our effort to be Good Parents, we watched the Happiest Toddler on the Block DVD which espouses helping toddlers express their emotions. So that's what we do. "You were having fun with the playdoh and are sad it has to go bye-bye. You are sad. Mommy is sorry you are sad."  It's supposed to work miracles, but not for us.The babeola is not impressed. Clearly, she needs to watch the DVD.

THEY SAY THEY HAVE KID EVENTS, BUT ONLY WHEN ALL THE KIDS ARE ASLEEP

I don't get how child events are scheduled. Every day care I spoke to when I was still working had set nap time for toddlers starting around 11:30 or noon and lasting 2-3 hours.

If this is the 'institutional norm' for nap time WHY are all child events scheduled precisely at that time? It's not like my child is unusual in being unavailabe from 11 to 1 or 2. When exactly do event planners think kids are sleeping? Or is it that they actually want cranky and annoyed tyrants running loose through their facility biting at will and refusing to share?

We are at a stage where the babeola is bored at home. She's going through an intense motor go-go-go phase and, just in case we weren't having enough fun, she is teething which makes her edgy. The only solution? I have to keep us busy outside of the house. Since all the kid events are during her nap time, I'm stuck going from one store to another and letting her run loose. With the result that I end up spending money I don't have on things I don't need because I like bright and shiny objects. Coincidentally, stores are full of the bright and shiny. Have you noticed that? Yeah, that serendipity is crazy.

So I signed us up for Gymboree making my crossover to the mommy consumer dark side. I think all I need now is a soccer sticker on the minivan, some mom jeans, and a Katie Holmes bob.

On the one hand, the play gym is awesome. I want to play on it and am disappointed they didn't think to make the maximum weight limit 'mommy'. One the other hand, the brand brainwashing is over-the-top. To wit, one poster gives this recipe for fun:

One baby
One adorable Gymboree outfit
With a Gymboree play and learn class

The music also uses the word Gymboree liberally, like a whole shaker of salt in your eggs.  They even pepper traditional rhymes and finger plays with Gymboree. Did you know the Old Duke of York loves Gymboree? It does kind of set my teeth on edge after an hour and I have to resist the urge to act like a sarcastic robot and chant 'Gymboree, Gymboree' over and over again.  Note that this urge hit during our first class ever which says something, probably not good, about the Gymboree marketing plan.

But it keeps me out of the stores and the babeola has a wonderland of fantastic slides and climbing walls to explore. However, Gymboree is expensive* and we can't go everyday, so I'm still going to spend some time cruising the malls. I'm actually sitting down now and making a schedule, trying to pair up errands with the need to get the babeola out of the house. This week looks something like this...

Monday: Mall, Neighbor girls come over to play
Tuesday: Target (usually we have music class, but this is Spring Break week)
Wednesday: Gymboree Art, Neighbor girls come over to play
Thursday: Do a price check at a new grocery store, Gymboree open gym (free with membership)
Friday: Grocery shopping, Gymboree open gym (free with membership)
Saturday: Gymboree Play and learn with Daddy (leaving mommy to sleep in and lounge)

I know everyone says be careful what you wish for, but I am really looking forward to the babeola being more verbal and being able to keep her busy with at-home activities. In truth, I am a homebody and would happily nest all day, every day in the house. So this go-go-go stuff is killing me!

*We have hit the grandparents up for a Gymboree donation. Yes, I am shameless. I am panhandling for Gymboree.

OH! And unrelated to the topic, my writing buddy has her official website up. Go check it out if you have a chance.

HAPPY MY DAUGHTER IS A BAD KISSER

The babeola is new to kissing and today, as we exchanged a few lip smacks, she lunged at me her pink, drool coated tongue aiming for my tonsils.

I am no longer worried about her dating because ewww! No one is going to want to make out with that!

Plus, she shoves cocoa butter up her nose. Except for when she's eating it. Or tantruming because someone put the lid on the jar.


That's all for now. I am super busy. Tons of stuff going on. Lots of chaos.

MOTHERING THE EARTH

Poop. I have like two minutes to discuss a very important topic; climate change.

Wait! Don't click to the next blog! I know I'm a mommy blogger, but climate change is right up there with the stress and responsibility of potty training in my book.

Because my children's future isn't just about dry underwear and neither is it for your kids.

There's a climate change article making waves across the internet. New Scientist attempted to take a comprehensive look at how we're going to survive what's coming. The article is here. The climate change map is here (zoom out so you can see all the 'pins'. Click on the pins to read what will happen in each region.)

Hot weather never felt so chilling.  Look at who will potentially be growing food on the map vs. who won't. Look at who will be providing energy vs. who won't.  In the twilight of my lifetime and the prime of my daughter's the entire geopolitics of the world will change.In a hundred years it is likely that the US will no longer be the world's breadbasket. If we do not move forward with a green revolution and become green technology leaders, not only does the planet lose,but so does our nation.

The conversation, a very important one that I hope you will join, continues over at Crunchy Chicken.

ON THE UPSIDE...READING

On the upside, I have one student hooked on the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer. She is now getting in trouble for staying up too late to read. Another student has kicked me to the curb having improved so much they no longer need a tutor. Although I may be back for one of their siblings.

So it's not all doom and gloom. Thank goodness! I am helping.

AND exciting news! I just read an advance copy of my writing group buddy's first book due out in July this year from Juno and Pocket books. It's called Vicious Circle and it ROCKS. Full of steamy werewolves and vampires and magic and way too much chewy fantasy caramel goodness to cover in one sentence. Once the book is up on Amazon, I'll link to it so you can check it out.

Now, I am feeling inspired and think I'll sign off and maybe do some writing of my own.

Cheers.

HEART SICK

I tutor one student who kills all the hope in my heart. After two weeks of missed sessions, someone actually answered the door when I knocked last night. I walked into a kitchen filled with the detritus of half eaten food and strewn garbage. The kitchen chairs had disappeared and there was too much junk on the table to consider using it to teach someone to read.

Stepping over the garbage with the lazy nonchalance only an adolescent can muster, my student led me to the living room, which was just as bad as the kitchen. Empty pop cans crowded the end tables flanked by sentinels of heavy drinking; beer and whiskey bottles. Cigarette butts littered the room like confetti and the stale smoke invaded my lungs. During our session, a Glade air freshener sprayed every thirty minutes, like a sigh of regret, in an effort to make everything smell like roses.

I perched on a wooden chair and my student threw himself on a slumped couch that had probably witnessed the premiere of Miami Vice in the 80s'.  We used a broken kitchen chair as a table and over the next two hours, my student demonstrated an astonishing capacity to forget everything he had learned. More than a month of tutoring and he was stuck at a pre-primer reading level, still trapped by dyslexia and learned apathy.

He wants to go to college to major in wrestling. He has not picked up a book since...ever. The gaping canyon between these two facts feels insurmountable.

And then things got worse. The run-a-way sister breezes into the house with her boyfriend. In a back room, they have a loud discussion about baby names. She appears to have met her goal of not coming home until she was pregnant. She is sixteen.

"When is your sister due?" I asked.

"August."

"That must be exciting, " I said because what else do I say about a life that is doomed before its first breath?

At home, I stripped off my clothes and immediately threw them in the washing machine wishing I could wash off more than just the stench of cigarette smoke.

A LIST OF TODDLER ACTIVITES...AND DID YOU KNOW THE WORLD IS RUNNING OUT OF FOOD

I have not tried any of these with the babeola, but I hope to in the future.

From The Toddler Busy Book by Trish Kuffner.

1.Ice Cube Bags- make some colored ice cubes with food coloring and put in a ziploc bag. Let kids play and watch as the colors melt and mix.

2.Where's Teddy? --Take yarn or string and attach to stuffed animal in a hidden spot. Make a trail with the string for your little one to follow.

3.Blanket Riding--Put baby on blanket and pull around room.

4.Snow Painting-- Fill spray bottles with food colored water and spray on snow

5.Rope fun--Lay out a piece of rope or yarn in a crazy pattern and walk on it like a balance beam

6.Wave Bottle-- Combine water (1/3 of bottle), baby oil (2/3 of bottle), food coloring, sequins or other interesting items in a water bottle. Seal shut with glue and shake to make waves.

7.Jungle Safari--Hide stuffed animals all over the house (keep a list) and go on a safari to hunt them down. For bonus fun, use a flashlight for looking in dark places.

Beyond filling my head with toddler entertainment ideas, I've undertaken a serious study of the state of food in the world, which, in case you didn't know, is a very sorry state. I've also been trying to plan an urban garden and somehow morph that activity into toddler entertainment as well.

This article about world agriculture is heavy denial-head-in-the-sand-inducing stuff, but, I think, really important to read and understand. All the source material is linked so you can read the research the article is based on for yourself.

Starvation...coming to a town near you in 2009.

As part of the whole Transition Town thing, I'm working on a community presentation about the state of world agriculture and its local impact and local solutions. So, now that the vomiting has subsided, I'm pretty busy.

BORED AND VOMITING WITH A SIDE OF BOOK REVIEW

For some reason, I have been throwing up this morning which has triggered post-traumatic stress flashbacks to the stomach flu we had when the babeola was in daycare. That stomach flu gave me black eyes and bloodied my nose all 40+ times I threw up. Fortunately, I think today was a one-off type stomach flu.

Since, I'm finally over my cold, I was supposed to resume my workouts this week, but, due to throwing up, have postponed that for later and now have nothing to do. So I thought I'd tell you about a book I read recently.

The Emotional Life of the Toddler is a thoughtful and sensitive look at toddlers. It is not a prescriptive parenting guide, but rather an explanation. One that helped put me in the babeola's shoes. Seeing things from a different perspective is immensely helpful because it creates room for compassion and understanding to flourish instead of impatience and anger.

The important takeaways for me from this book were:

1. Toddlers are all about their bodies, what their bodies can do, what their bodies feel like, what their bodies produce (boogers and poop primarily as if you didn't know!) and learning to be separate from their parents. These are the two themes that drive almost everything they do and explains why I have to sing 'Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes' two billion times a day.  I also thought it was interesting that the coy runaway games toddlers play are really about reassuring themselves that mommy or daddy will always come and get them.

2.Potty training is under the toddler's control, not the parent's. The parent provides the opportunity and guidance, the toddler decides whether or not to take the parent up on the offer. In fact, potty training (or learning) is all about control and mastery...for the toddler, not the parent.

3.Factoids and nuggets of information like:

--Mild to moderate conflicts between parents and toddlers take place every three minutes. Major conflicts occur at the rate of three per hour. Conflict for 2-3-year-olds is double that of 4-5-year-olds. No wonder I'm so frazzled some days! I spend all my time arguing with a non-verbal tyrant.

--Separation anxiety becomes most acute at 18 months. It increases just as the toddler experiences the urge to leave their mother's side and explore the world. The momentum away from the mother calls for a psychological counterweight of equal magnitude, hence separation anxiety.  Mixed messages like this are common in the toddler years and signify developmental transitions.

The book gave me a lot of food for thought and has enabled me to empathize more strongly with the babeola. It has also prompted me to be sure and reassure her and not brush off her behavior as unimportant, but rather treat it as the vital communication it is.  I've also beeng trying to figure out what it means when the babeola brings over all her stuffed animals for me to hugs and kiss. She really seems to get a kick out of it and I'm not sure why that is. Maybe she's just studying/fascinated by affection?

If you click on the link you will be able to read a large chunk for free. Interesting stuff.

LIPOSUCTION BY BLUE JEANS

Ahem. Attention please. Hey you, in the back, shuddup. I have something important to say.

Today, for the first time since my pelvis split to pop out the adorable babeola, I wore a pair of pre-pregnancy jeans.

Sadly, even though the jeans do their best to slurp up the extra flab, I am still fat. But not as fat as I was.

Huzzah. Happy Valentine's Day to me.

I celebrated by eating three calzones (I make really kickass calzones) and cake.  Tomorrow I bet the jeans won't fit anymore. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.

And here are pictures of the babeola doing her favorite things; reading, looking at herself in the mirror, and sitting on the dog.

 

 

I DID NOT HAVE OCTUPLETS

First, the babeola has decided it's fun to lift my shirt and lick my back. That is a new one!

Our health insurance changed and we are now in the Kaiser Permanente system for the first time. I faced the change with trepidition and it turns out I was right to be concerned. My asthma medications, which are mainstream normal everday asthma medications, are not approved in the Kaiser system and I have to get special dispensation in order to have them, which means an appeals process. Ridicuolous.

For me, medication is the difference between holding a job and collecting disability. I am not the kind of asthmatic who could be an Olympic athelete. I didn't even think I would have kids as I was too ill to even exercise let alone care for a child and didn't want to pass on the disease. However, there have been so many advances in medical care for asthma that I am, finally, almost symptom free 90% of the time. It's quite disheartening to think I may have to backslide simply because Kaiser thinks my medications are too expensive. Seriously, that's the excuse.

Interestingly enough, I can get a 90 day supply of one of my meds from a reputable overseas pharmacy for $100. My ER visits alone usually cost around $2000 and these medications are pretty much the only thing standing between me and becoming an ER frequent flyer. So I think Kaiser's cost-benefit analysis is screwed up.

Even worse, when I shared with the Kaiser doctor--as part of my medical history-- that we did IVF for the babeola, she asked if I too had eight babies like the octuplet mom. What the hell? How is that an appropriate comment? I replied that no, we had been ethical in our treatment choices and worked with scrupulously ethical doctors who followed the standards of care as established by ASRM. Further, I am not mentally ill.

Then the doctor proceeded to say that I could have two or three at once and that would be fine. Ummmm. Okay. Crazy much, doctor?

It pains me when people make poor choices with fertility treatments. The Gosselins of  Jon & Kate Plus 8 did not come by their sextupluts honestly. No one does. High order multiples are the product of poor monitoring and bad judgement on all sides. Every time. And it is always the bad apple that ruins it for everyone else.

Which is why a medical professional felt it appropriate to make the comments they did.

Sick.

Edited to add some caveats....

Believe it or not, unlike the octuplet mom, there can be times where transferring more than the recommended 2 embryos is apporpriate. However, these are situations that should be evaluated on a case by case basis and be subject to peer review (most reproductive docs discuss patient protocols with each other, the good ones do at least). The octuplet mom already had 6 children and should have never transferred more than 2 embryos. Her doctor basically committed malpractice in my opinion. Transferring a million embryos is reserved for the hard cases, for couples with no children and  multiple failed cycles (I'm generalizing here for a lay audience, the details are more complex).

Also, you can't prevent all multiples but we can reliably prevent quintuplets and up. With a 2 embryo transfer, the worst case scenario should be quads and that's it. Also, age is a factor in the incidence of twins. So if an older mom does IVF and has twins, was it the IVF or her age? How can you tell? I'm not sure you can.

It would be nice if we could get to a point where high order multiples were a statistical anomaly instead of malpractice.

SOCIOPATH OVERSIGHT

I am fairly certain I am not alone in my outrage over the peanut butter salmonella situation.  In case you haven't followed the story, the management ordered the distribution of tainted product because it would cost too much to trash it and start over. In essence, they murdered several dozen people over profit concerns.

Unconscionable.

But I have seen this kind of management before. Many times.

Were you aware that 1 in 25 people are sociopaths? That, quite often, management is filled with so-called 'functional' sociopaths. Functional in the sense that instead of becoming serial killers, they settle for being your crappy powermongering boss or simply the sleaze that makes sure you do all the work?

When I break out this theory at parties. People shift their weight, look into their drinks, and there is an awkward silence. Sadly, silence is precisely what allows sociopaths to flourish. If you think I'm crazy too, spend some time reading the linked articles. 

I've not only worked for sociopaths (sadly it is plural), I've hired them (and then fired them). Sociopaths are diabolical and without remorse or morals. And there are way too many of them jockeying for power in Corporate America.

So, watching the peanut butter murders unfold, it occurs to me that instead of regulating industry, perhaps we would do better to start by weeding out the sociopaths. Simple psychological testing would go a long way toward preventing food production from becoming a mass murder weapon.

ORIGAMI

Bend your neck, head on my shoulder,
Let my breath bring you up and down
Frog your legs, up and under
Like before you knew the world
Tucked and creased, edges caressed
Fold me into motherhood

LAY ME OFF, PLEASE

I want to speak to Human Resources tout suite. What is this bullshit that I don't get any sick days? I didn't sign up for this! Where do I file a complaint about my boss?

Welcome to the downside of motherhood. There are no days off. Ever.

Even on the few occasions that I am footloose and babeola-free, I am still consumed by her. I'm amazed to see parents of older kids who are so detached (in a good way) and wonder how I will ever cut the apron strings. I can't imagine letting go, no matter how good that freedom sounds.

So....anyway...my nose is red. My head is throbbing and it doesn't matter. There are meals to provide, entertainment that must be coordinated, and no rest until later tonight.

The only relief comes from a high level of organization and mastery of multi-tasking. Too bad I'm still a novice. However, I did have chicken soup in the freezer ready to go, a supply of Kleenex laid in, and Zicam in the medicine cabinet. I've sort of given up on decongestants, as doing without while I was pregnant and nursing didn't seem to be any different than doing with. Although I might go for some Mucinex if this thing hits my chest. Oh, and you better believe I am chugging the Nyquil at night. It makes me feel no pain so I don't care if it doesn't clear my sinuses.

What I need to do now is figure out a meal plan for the coming week that doesn't have me slaving in the kitchen all weekend. I am just starting to get the hang of meal planning. I am getting better about exploiting opportunities for efficiency, thinking ahead, using up ingredients, shopping primarily to stock the pantry, and finding stuff the babeola is willing to eat, but I still make rookie mistakes. Like believing the fantasy that two big meals cooked on a weekend will last all week. Or that the babeola will eat leftovers. Or that I will actually want to eat what I've cooked all. week. long.

Sometimes the world I create in my head works a lot better than the real one.

So here goes. The plan for this week.

1. Identify mystery meat from the freezer. I have a package of mushed up dead farm animal and I have no idea what it is. It's been defrosting for the last two days and I still can't tell what it is. Once I figure it out, I need to do something to make it edible. If it's pork I'll make an E. European goulash with sauerkraut and cream sauce. If it's chicken, slow cooker chicken and rice.

2. Make cranberry pork roast in the slow cooker. I found the recipe on Allrecipes. A pork roast, an envelope of onion soup with a can of jellied cranberry sauce in the slow cooker and voila! dinner is served. It's supposed to be divine. I figure if it's not, I can scrape off the cranberry and add barbecue sauce.

3. Unstuffed cabbage in the slow cooker or try the slow cooker shredded beef taco recipe my friend gave me. Or both if I need more food. Hmmm. How to  decide which to make first? The unstuffed cabbage requires more work, so I should do that on the weekend when the husband can take over babeola duty. Then the beef mid-week if I find we're running out of food.

4. I want to make slow cooker oatmeal with walnuts and apples for the husband. Walnuts and oatmeal both help lower cholesterol which the husband needs.

5. In a pinch meal for husband: homemade calzones or frozen portabello mushroom pasta, which I bought for the babeola, but she hates it. The husband is a bit like a goat, he'll eat anything.  That and he'll go grocery shopping when I'm sick (and even when I'm not becuase he is husbandly perfection).

Okay, so that's the plan. Now to make up the grocery list and give the husband his marching orders.If you need me, I'll either be in bed snuggling with the Kleenex or cooking in the kitchen (the Kleenex tucked under one arm, of course).

FIGHTING GROUCH

I'm fighting a cold and my computer is full of viruses as well. Too bad Zicam doesn't work on hard drives. Can you believe I think the problem is actually my anti-virus protection? That I have to uninstall it and find something else? That I can't open a single one of my word documents and had to do a system restore just to be able to boot up? Crazy.

If I disappear...it's because either my head or computer exploded. Or imploded. Or some other equally catastrophic destruction occurred. Send chocolate.

Yesterday was the second music class. For a music class there is a heavy emphasis on silence and not making noise. They like to give the kids a chance to respond to the stimulation I guess. It's very experimental that way.

Anyway, it was a lot more fun this time around. The babeola was more comfortable and had a blast. They use real instruments along with fun props like scarves. If a little one says uh-oh they do a fun uh-oh song (with no words). There's a peak-a-boo song too.

They also had a parachute and we dragged the kids in a circle while singing nonsense syllables and then let them run underneath as we waved it up and down. There was lots of laughing and giggling--I was cracking up myself. One little boy let out the biggest 'wow' at the whole thing.

So thumbs up. It's weird. A little bizarre even, but the kids are really stimulated and intrigued. You can tell it's making them think. And the babeola had a first yesterday, she stacked blocks for the first time. Granted, we were supposed to be drumming on them, but yay! anyway.

Oh, and they do videotape the classes. I guess they like to use the tape to study the kids' reactions. I kind of wish they had warned us upfront about that as I'm not thrilled about my child ending up on some PBS documentary. Last I heard, the going rate for exploiting your kids was two million dollars and here I am paying them!

THERE IS NO BAD TIME FOR CUTE

Except, perhaps, 6 am when the babeola declared, with a loud shriek, that it was time to Carpe Diem. Ouch.

I had no idea babies were so dangerous. The babeola has been killing me with cuteness lately.

WARNING! EXTREME GUSHING OVER OFFSPRING TO FOLLOW! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

First, she says and waves bye-bye now when I put her down for her nap or at night. I love the way she warbles when she talks.  To. Die. For.

For Daddy's birthday, she gave him her first kiss yesterday. I always knew she was a Daddy's girl.

Of course, it's Momma that she blows kisses to, so I'm not exactly out in the cold.

She also brings all her stuffed animals and dolls to me for hugs and kisses. We like to smack Pooh Bear's dupa (butt) and do the dupa chant that I used to do during diaper changes when she was an itty bitty thing. Then we turn Pooh Bear around and rub his Buddha Belly and sing the (made up) Buddha Belly song. She loves this.We do it over and over and over, but that's okay because I love it too.

And, just to keep us on our toes, she's been climbing the furniture. We had our backs turned for one second yesterday and when we turned back around the babeola was walking on top of the bookcase. Yikes!

END GUSHING. IT IS SAFE TO RESUME READING AFTER THIS LINE!

Yesterday, I was trying to come up with some tag lines for toddler T-shirts. So far I have...

If I'm not screaming and crying, I'm not happy


Emo Baby


My emotions are bigger and badder than yours.

Tantrums: Priceless


I meltdown like Chernobyl

Ah yes, as you might guess, cuteness aside, the babeola is going through a tantrum phase. We're doing our best to help her through it, but its extremes tend to make us wince and wish we had earplugs. And a nanny.

OF BRAS AND HOBBITS AND SNOW DAYS (AGAIN!)

Another foot and a half of snow today! I called off work today thereby marking another week in which I fail to make as much money as I should. Someone is always sick or canceling or fired from the program for canceling too much or it snows a tsunami of fluff to where I'm not even sure I can get out of the driveway, let alone across town.

However, despite the expense, the break is sorely needed. I am so wiped from being mommy, wife, and the finest tutor education has ever known. I'm only paid for 7 hours a week, but I end up working almost 20 as I spend a lot of time devising games and activities and figuring out lesson plans.  Ahhh. Smell that? That's new tutor smell.

I plan to scrub it off today and enjoy some down time. (Of course the babeola just took the shorest nap ever. Sigh.)

Anyway, I have some cute babeola stories to share.

First, she is obessessed with my bras. Probably a primordial nursing association. She manges to filch them somehow and likes to sling them over her shoulders or put the strap over her head. Today she was 'styling' the bra around her shoulders while watching herself in the mirror and then she started teething on the underwire. At which point, I promply died from laughter.

I have pictures, but I'm not sure they belong on the internet. You don't want to see my bra, right?

Yesterday, we attended our first music class. It is not your typical music class. There are no words, not even a hokey pokey. It reminds me of those modern dance interludes in movies from the 60s. Incongruent razzle dazzle that captures your attention by being bizarre.

Exhibit to the first, I think the teacher, short and round with a wooden flute, might be a hobbit. Exhibit to the second, the babeola was underwhelmed. She actually retrieved her shoes, tried to put them on (and failed)and said 'bye bye' while toddling to the door as fast as her chubby legs could carry her.  When that did not make the weirdos go away, she resigned herself to wandering the room, shoes clutched tight in her hands while the rest of us drummed and sang things like 'ba, boo, bi' in a round. Whenever the teacher attempted to interact with her, she would turn on her heel, refusing to make eye contact.

Despite her disdain, I think the class will be good for her. In a psychedelic kind of way. I mean, it's no Old McDonald. More Gregorian chant meets hobbit with flute. But it's probably good for her, like a vitamin.

At least I am amused. They do a greeting and farewell song that singles out each child by name (the only time words are used). The kids are utterly shocked that these strange people know their name. The surprise is stamped all over their faces in little slackjawed 'o's of doubletakes. We are totally messing with their minds.

I love it.

VARIETY SHOW

In order of appearance:

1. The eye. Is fine. Some red scrapes, a few burst blood vessels all handled with good cheer by the babeola. As for the Y? Not even a follow up phone call from the head office. I may be calling them.

2.Bank Account. Closed. I have completed the descent into parenthood poverty. I am now officially poor and we are living from paycheck to paycheck. Eh. At least the pantry is stocked.

3.Tutoring. Going well, even though I am still poor re:#2. Some of the more difficult students were 'fired'  as there are more students than tutoring funds so if kids don't show up or appreciate the tutoring, they give it to someone who will. Score.

4. School/Career Change. Dead in the water. No money and no time. I'm not sure what to do next. Perhaps set my sights on something to do for now? Medical coding? Billing? Unit secretary? And go from there? I don't know.

5. Scaring new parents. I don't mean to scare them, I'm just trying to pass on what I wished someone would've told me; That daycare germs are evil and they make you miss work when the baby is sick and then again when you are sick. That mastering 4-5 crock pot recipes now will keep you fed and will be all that you have time for. That you will be up longer, work harder, and do more than you ever have in your life the first year. That the first year is a dynamic blessing, it comes with joy and challenges and you just have to kind of get through it however you can.

6.Obama. I don't care what your politics are, yesterday was a historic moment for every American. I am so disappointed to see that there is still bitter partisanship everywhere I look and that so many people are working to undermine what is actually a moment of triumph. It is time to set aside partisanship (i.e. childish things) and be an American. It is time to get to work. We aren't Republicans or Democrats or Libertarians, we are American and each of us has the ability to make a difference. Local actions lead to national change. Our greatest hope is not Obama, it is us. I'm afraid of what will happen if we don't figure that out.

ETA: In case you missed it (as I failed to properly highlight it) my winter pic of the babeola made post of the day over at Worth a Thousand Words.  It was this pic by the way:

AT THE YMCA

I put myself through my senior year of college working for the before-care and after-care school program sponsored by the YMCA. I started as an aide and worked my way up to Director. Although, I have to say holding that job and having mono simultaneously was not a great idea. I recall catching six upper respiratory infections in a row despite using hand sanitizer and ushering everyone to the restroom to introduce them to soap and water. (I never missed a single day of work either, which is amazing as I remember being quite miserable!)

Anyway, I know what it is to try and supervise the chaos that is a gaggle of kids. One kid even managed to break his nose under my watch. Who knew a basketball could be a deadly weapon?

So I am full of empathy for the brave women who staff the child care at my local Y. These women allow me to walk away from my daughter and sweat out some of the stress of motherhood.

However, the limits of my empathy were tested today.

"What happened to her eye?" I asked the second I walked through the nursery door.

What?" was the response.

"What happened to her eye?" I repeated gesturing to the glaringly obvious injury to my daughter's eye.

"Her eye?"

My jaw clenched, I picked up my daughter to inspect the damage. A large, puffy you'd-have-to-be-blind-to-miss-it welt extended from her eyelid into her temple and a blue-gray pallor underneath promised to shine later.

"Oh, wow, her eye! Ummm, we don't know! I think she may have butted heads with one of the other kids."

Not only did they not see or know what happened, I had to prompt them to do an incident report. I mean, if it had been a simple bump on the head, no biggie, but this is an eye, a fragile area, and we have no way of  judging how serious the injury is or isn't because no one saw what happened. So, yeah, you fill out a freaking incident report!

Fortunately, the babeola is in good spirits, but I'm not sure how long that will last, especially as the bruising comes to the fore. I gave her some Motrin, then called the doctor and talked with the nurse trying to sort out what to do. We have an appointment later today to assess the damage.

SUNDAY SNOW DAY

We got another 5-6 inches of snow last night! Can you believe it? Crazy. The plow piles on our street are now taller than a car!

And, of course, today is the day I volunteered to cook a meal for a family bringing home their second baby. Luckily, I was able to wimp out on the driving and have the husband deliver the food. I have been cooking for the last four hours. Two batches of chicken paprikash with dumplings (one for us, one for the other family) and I threw a roast in the crockpot. If I manage my leftovers carefully I won't have to cook for most of the week (although there has been a request for homemade pizza and calzones that could send me back into the kitchen).

Yesterday the babeola had her first play date with my friend's kids. She loved it, although all she did was run around with a piece of foam board in her hand saying 'hi' and 'bye-bye'. When we got home, she radiated such satisfaction and contentment with the world that I hope we'll do a play date again soon.

And that's it. Nothing exciting, just lots of snow and happiness. If you'll excuse me, I have to go tend to the dumplings.

Cheers.

ETA: Damn. I burned the pizza! And the husband unplugged the crockpot while the roast was cooking which was a major inconvenience.

Oh, and I meant to say that I only sing Heads, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes ten times. After that, you're on your own kid. I would die for the babeola, but after ten rousing renditions of HSKT I want to contrive a situation that involves me being crushed to death by a semi.

And, by the way, does Britney Spears know about HSKT? It's just begging to be a pop hit. There are millions of babies just waiting for someone cool (i.e. they don't have to bend creaky knees to touch hammertoes) to remix HSKT. I can hear it now; a chorus by a famous rapper, preferably one who has done jail time, and Brit-Brit in a skimpy outfit gyrating like a belly dancer in a blender while touching herself. If that wouldn't sell a billion records, I don't know what would!

INTERPERATIVE DANCE FOR MOMS (OR GAMES AND TOYS FOR A ONE YEAR OLD )

Nothing much new. Still bummed that I was possibly hot and didn't know it. That's a lot of free stuff I missed out on.

Question. What comes first? The beauty or the mercenary need to swindle people out of things?

Anyway, I'm trying to cook while I type this. It will be a miracle if I don't burn anything.

The babeola is a billion different kinds of adorable. Since the New Year she's been bringing books to us and asking us to read. Although she's a fickle audience, if we bore her, she climbs off our laps and leaves. Which happens a lot so we must be really sucky readers.

Entertaining a one-year-old is hard work. It's a 'tween' stage, between baby and toddler. They can do so much, but know so little. The motor skills are only half developed so things that a eighteen-month-old can do are often beyond their reach. Worse, the baby toys are boring (or outgrown physically) and the toddler toys are too hard, and, at least in our case, are only good for starting tantrums born of frustration.

Oh, hey, look at that! I just bounced the laptop off the kitchen floor. And it still works! Yay! Probably should not try that again.

Anyway--yeah, I'm a little scattered today--it is not uncommon for message boards to feature calls for help when it comes to keeping 1yo babies busy. Even I have a hard time keeping us from climbing the walls with boredom, but here is what is working so far and what I plan to try.

1. Some kind of push toy. The babeola has a hard time finding the angle for pushing some of the toys, but, with momma's help, she loves to zoom across the carpet.

2.Beginner puzzles. The fine motor skills aren't there yet, but everyone has to start somewhere right? The babeola happily takes the puzzles apart and puts them together, a little less happily, with mommy's help.  A variation on this is hanging toys on the drawer pulls to the dresser in our living room--and she'll often do this one by herself.

3.Something to ride on. The babeola has no idea how to push herself on her riding toys, but she loves to climb off and on and try. Because she hasn't figured out how to propel herself along, this toy is only good for about 30 seconds of fun. Not enough to fill your day with. I currently have the neighbor girls trying to show her how to ride it in the hopes she'll imitate them.

4. Knocking down towers. Actually, I encourage her to build them, but she has zero interest in construction, she is all about destruction. We use the cardboard blocks that are big and chunky, yet also lightweight.

5.Playing ball. At this age, babies can begin to learn the concept of rolling or throwing a soft ball. Except, they can't catch so this activity really ends up being more 'mommy bounces balls off baby and then chases the balls around while baby looks at mommy like 'WTF did you just bounce off my head?' This activity only lasts as long as mommy is willing to chase the balls around, which, for me, is not more than a couple minutes. We only do this every few days because it seems kind of pointless and a little sadistic to hit my kid with balls.

6.Taking things out of bigger things. The babeola loves to find a bag and empty it, so I try to stash sturdy gift bags around the living room with random assortments of toys inside. Sometimes this keeps her busy for a half hour, depending on how much she likes the toys inside. Other times, she's underwhelmed. I have yet to figure out the key to toy selection for this activity.

7.Go to the mall. Since they aren't usually very fast at this age, take them to the mall and set 'em loose. The babeola loves to run free at the mall, which, in retrospect, I see how this could be a problem later on, but it's worth it. The most important thing is to go off-hours when the mall is not busy.

8.Ripping magazines and catalogs. The only downside, the babeola is a paper eater so I have to really watch her with this, but paper ripping will keep her occupied for a half hour on a good day.

9. Some kind of climbing toy and slide. This is on order and I hope the babeola will enjoy it. She needs a more challenging gross motor activity than just walking. Also, she wants to climb, but our furniture is too tall, the climbing toys at the mall are difficult for her as well, so she needs a climbing activity that she can do as a bridge to skills like getting up on the couch.

10. Rhymes and songs with accompanying motions. Sometimes I feel like motherhood is one long interperative dance set to nursery rhymes, but the fact is, babies love this shit. At a minimum, all good mommies must learn the following songs/rhymes and the movements that go with them;

--Eensy Weensy Spider
--If You're Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands
--Pat-a-cake
--Three (or Five) Monkeys Jumping on the Bed
--Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes
--This Little Piggy
--A horse rhyme that lets baby bounce on your knee (sorry, I don't know any titles)

Really good mommies don't mind singing and acting out these songs over and over again.

I am not a good mommie.

Anything I missed? I wouldn't mind expanding my repertoire!

Please, someone save me!