Just trying to get some pics on here...
I'll have to do more later.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
Bits of Paradise
I started home schooling my children this fall. It has been an adventure and has forced me to improve my mothering skills and face some of my less than admirable facets of my personality. Spending the majority of each day surrounded by my children is like having six mirrors running around (or crawling, as the case may be) my home showing me my every weakness and flaw, showing me the stuff I'm truly made of.
I've learned that it's not all about me, though. I've come to appreciate more of my children's talents, interests and capabilities. I think I've sadly underestimated what they can learn. For instance, I've taught my six year old to do his own laundry. It hadn't occurred to me he was capable of such a thing until I conversed with a friend who suggested it. He also can make grilled cheese sandwiches for himself and his siblings. I discovered that he loves to learn poems and the opportunity to recite them for others. After observing his older sister learn to ride a bike without training wheels, he decided he wanted to do it, too. So he took off the training wheels of his little sister's bike and taught himself to ride it.
My eight year old is well on her way to being a capable cook. She can make and serve a meal for the whole family. She can memorize and recite poetry faster than I can teach it to her. She seems to know intuitively how to calm her baby brother. Her creativity in art knows no bounds.
My four year old has learned to recite various tenets of our faith. She also loves to learn to read and do math drills. She hasn't yet learned that she really should wear panties, especially under her dresses. She ties with her six year old brother as most like "Curious George". She has some sort of obsession with food and has come up with ingenious ways to get to the foods she most likes, no matter how I try and hide it or remove it from reach.
My two year old has learned all of the letters fo the alphabet and their sounds and likes to quiz his brothers and sisters and me to make sure we know them, too. He also likes to tell knock knock jokes, but is still working on which parts he's supposed to say and which parts the other person should say.
My eleven year old gobbles up anything computer related, playing games, programming games, etc. He loves to joke around with me. When I'm in a bad mood, he seems to know exactly how to organize his siblings to make things better, or when he's feeling a bit contrary, he know which buttons to push to try my patience. He's taken to riding my bike, since I guess his is inadequate for the purpose.
All in all it is satisfying to be the one to witness my children's education, to learn with them and see the world through the eyes of a child again. No more stress about homework deadlines and what untoward thing the school has decided my children should know. No more living with this sense that their education is somehow lacking, but not knowing exactly how or in what way. No more trying to fit myself into the mould of education for the masses. Finally, the merging of my ideas of how my children should be educated with reality and making it happen on a personal and individual level.
I've learned that it's not all about me, though. I've come to appreciate more of my children's talents, interests and capabilities. I think I've sadly underestimated what they can learn. For instance, I've taught my six year old to do his own laundry. It hadn't occurred to me he was capable of such a thing until I conversed with a friend who suggested it. He also can make grilled cheese sandwiches for himself and his siblings. I discovered that he loves to learn poems and the opportunity to recite them for others. After observing his older sister learn to ride a bike without training wheels, he decided he wanted to do it, too. So he took off the training wheels of his little sister's bike and taught himself to ride it.
My eight year old is well on her way to being a capable cook. She can make and serve a meal for the whole family. She can memorize and recite poetry faster than I can teach it to her. She seems to know intuitively how to calm her baby brother. Her creativity in art knows no bounds.
My four year old has learned to recite various tenets of our faith. She also loves to learn to read and do math drills. She hasn't yet learned that she really should wear panties, especially under her dresses. She ties with her six year old brother as most like "Curious George". She has some sort of obsession with food and has come up with ingenious ways to get to the foods she most likes, no matter how I try and hide it or remove it from reach.
My two year old has learned all of the letters fo the alphabet and their sounds and likes to quiz his brothers and sisters and me to make sure we know them, too. He also likes to tell knock knock jokes, but is still working on which parts he's supposed to say and which parts the other person should say.
My eleven year old gobbles up anything computer related, playing games, programming games, etc. He loves to joke around with me. When I'm in a bad mood, he seems to know exactly how to organize his siblings to make things better, or when he's feeling a bit contrary, he know which buttons to push to try my patience. He's taken to riding my bike, since I guess his is inadequate for the purpose.
All in all it is satisfying to be the one to witness my children's education, to learn with them and see the world through the eyes of a child again. No more stress about homework deadlines and what untoward thing the school has decided my children should know. No more living with this sense that their education is somehow lacking, but not knowing exactly how or in what way. No more trying to fit myself into the mould of education for the masses. Finally, the merging of my ideas of how my children should be educated with reality and making it happen on a personal and individual level.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
What's in a name?
I can't get enough of my two-year-old right now. He says the greatest things. For instance, the other day we were at a family gathering and I was talking with my mother-in-law when Mr. 2yr-old comes along and says something that I just can't figure out. I start to question him so I can figure out what he's trying to say and he replies angrily, "No, mom, I'm talking to grandma!"
One of my favorites from last week:
Mr. 2yo and I were talking and I discovered he knew his first and middle names, Peter Michael. Great, I say to myself, now he just needs to learn his last name. So I proceeded to tell him his whole name and got him to repeat it to me a couple of times. I then went on to discuss his age with him. Then, as any parent would do who wants to know if what they've tried to teach their child has stuck, I asked Mr. 2yo his name. His reply, "Peter {here I'm getting really excited}, Peter {okay, it's all right if he says his first name twice, he just wants to make sure everyone understands}, Pumpkin Eater!" Well, at least he didn't say "Stinky Pete".
Friday, August 15, 2008
When it's hard to be mad
While sitting here trying to decide what to write, my 2 year old son, who was supposed to be asleep in his crib, walked in. He said, "I'm awake now". Which was, well, quite obvious. I asked if he climbed out of the crib, a skill I'm beginning to think he has learned. He said, "Yes". Then he handed me a child size version of a hard hat, like those worn on construction site, for me to wear. I dutifully put the hat on my head and smiled at my son. He said, "You're pretty". I thanked him, he said "You're welcome", he took back his hat and left the room. It's hard to be mad sometimes.
It reminds me of the other day when I was bringing him in from the car. He wanted to stay out front to play, but since I wasn't going to be out there with him I flung him over my shoulder and started to carry him to the house.
He was protesting so I cajoled, "Peter, just let me love you".
"No, mom, don't love me", he replied angrily.
"Oh, I love you, Peter!" I persisted.
In the same angry sounding voice, each word emphasized, "Mom, I love you, too!"
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Queen Mom
Yesterday I was Queen. After wasting away the morning reading a book, I sat on the living room sofa nursing my 2 month old contemplating all that needed to be done before my parents came to stay with us for the weekend. I was feeling sorry for myself, frustrated that Entropy seemed to be ruling my household with my children its subjects. How was I to convince my children that they really should stop destroying things? I pondered for a time and concluded that I needed to come down from my throne and mingle with my subjects. So, I donned my tiara (literally-yes, I own a tiara and wear it on occasion) and got to work.
First, I grabbed some wood glue, and under the careful supervision of my 4 year old princess, I glued the piano bench back together in what may turn out to be a vain attempt to prolong its life. Next, I gathered the children downstairs in the family room where my two brothers will be sleeping, sat myself down with a trash bag and a toy box and proceeded to direct my children in the art of counting trash. Meanwhile, I sorted through the toy box, removing trash and other treasures. As the day progressed, a couple loads of laundry were done, supervision of the removal of debris and the like from my prince's bedchamber occurred, ice cream was made and a sewing project and a half were completed.
At some point during the afternoon a friend came by to drop something off. After she left, I realized I still had my tiara on. I laughed to myself and continued to create order where entropy once reigned.
First, I grabbed some wood glue, and under the careful supervision of my 4 year old princess, I glued the piano bench back together in what may turn out to be a vain attempt to prolong its life. Next, I gathered the children downstairs in the family room where my two brothers will be sleeping, sat myself down with a trash bag and a toy box and proceeded to direct my children in the art of counting trash. Meanwhile, I sorted through the toy box, removing trash and other treasures. As the day progressed, a couple loads of laundry were done, supervision of the removal of debris and the like from my prince's bedchamber occurred, ice cream was made and a sewing project and a half were completed.
At some point during the afternoon a friend came by to drop something off. After she left, I realized I still had my tiara on. I laughed to myself and continued to create order where entropy once reigned.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Hospitals, birth & Tech Support Syndrome
Yesterday was the 6th anniversary of the day I decided to never give birth in a hospital again. My son, now six, was born that day. Four weeks prior to his birth I had gone to my prenatal appointment and had been tested for Group B Strep (GBS). At the next appointment, I was told the test had come back positive.
This was extremely frustrating for me for several reasons. The "treatment" for preventing GBS transmission to a baby during birth is to put the mother on IV antibiotics during labor. Why would this bother me? First, I had previously had various breastfeeding problems with my first two babies including candidiasis and thrush, a yeast infection causing a great deal of pain while nursing. Antibiotics have a tendency to cause yeast infections and I didn't want one. Second, I wanted to give birth without pain meds and other unnecessary interventions. Being hooked up to an IV throughout labor was counter productive to that goal. Third, the protocol at that time was to always treat a woman as if she is positive for all future births, even though GBS is transitory. Since I planned on having more children, the idea of being treated for something for every subsequent birth regardless of whether or not it was necessary seemed incredibly short sighted.
This led me to do a great deal of research on the subject. I looked at the studies used by the CDC and ACOG to develop the protocol. I also looked to other sources for more natural means to reduce GBS colonization without drugs. I discovered that the IV antibiotic prophylaxis regimen was ineffective unless at least four hours passed from the time of the first dose until the baby's birth. Since my first two labors were 4 and 5 1/2 hours respectively, it made sense for me to look into taking care of the GBS in some other way.
At this point, if you haven't lost interest yet, I will just say that I had myself tested again the week before baby was due and the test came back negative. Sadly, the lab didn't bother to pass along the results to the hospital, like they had the positive results, so when I went into the hospital a few days after the due date with contractions, the hospital staff and my CNM (Certified Nurse Midwife) did not have the newest lab results showing me to be GBS negative. They told me I would be put on antibiotics, I told them no, the CNM on call lectured me and my husband, trying to convince us that not receiving antibiotics was the worst possible choice. I told her about my research, she told me the internet has all sorts of misinformation. I told her I got my info from the CDC and ACOG. She told me I was wrong about the negative GBS test. I told her I called her office and they told me it was negative. I left in tears and stressed up to my eyeballs. My labor stopped some hours later and I didn't return until exactly a week after the due date.
After the birth the pediatrician on call told me that we couldn't leave the hospital until 48 hours after the birth because of the positive GBS test. I told him yes we could and, by the way, I tested negative most recently. Pediatrician was puzzled since the hospital didn't have the lab results. When I left the hospital, I vowed never to return for future births, if I could help it. You see, I'm not completely insane. If my baby or I had some complication that needed medical attention, I would go back, just not until then.
Between the hostile CNM and the befuddled Pediatrician, I didn't have a lot of allies at the hospital. They treated me like I was an idiot and couldn't possibly have two brain cells to rub together. My husband, who is an IT professional, excused them as having what he calls "Tech Support Syndrome" (shortened hereafter as "TSS"). TSS is what happens to computer tech support people who deal with computer illiterate people most of the time. Basically, the people we interacted with at the hospital are used to dealing with patients who don't know an auditory ossicle from an orbicularis oris.
Here I am, six years and three babies later and I haven't needed the hospital's services for any of them. My stress level during my children's births has decreased, my babies and I have had fewer birth related problems, and I am happy with my choice.
This was extremely frustrating for me for several reasons. The "treatment" for preventing GBS transmission to a baby during birth is to put the mother on IV antibiotics during labor. Why would this bother me? First, I had previously had various breastfeeding problems with my first two babies including candidiasis and thrush, a yeast infection causing a great deal of pain while nursing. Antibiotics have a tendency to cause yeast infections and I didn't want one. Second, I wanted to give birth without pain meds and other unnecessary interventions. Being hooked up to an IV throughout labor was counter productive to that goal. Third, the protocol at that time was to always treat a woman as if she is positive for all future births, even though GBS is transitory. Since I planned on having more children, the idea of being treated for something for every subsequent birth regardless of whether or not it was necessary seemed incredibly short sighted.
This led me to do a great deal of research on the subject. I looked at the studies used by the CDC and ACOG to develop the protocol. I also looked to other sources for more natural means to reduce GBS colonization without drugs. I discovered that the IV antibiotic prophylaxis regimen was ineffective unless at least four hours passed from the time of the first dose until the baby's birth. Since my first two labors were 4 and 5 1/2 hours respectively, it made sense for me to look into taking care of the GBS in some other way.
At this point, if you haven't lost interest yet, I will just say that I had myself tested again the week before baby was due and the test came back negative. Sadly, the lab didn't bother to pass along the results to the hospital, like they had the positive results, so when I went into the hospital a few days after the due date with contractions, the hospital staff and my CNM (Certified Nurse Midwife) did not have the newest lab results showing me to be GBS negative. They told me I would be put on antibiotics, I told them no, the CNM on call lectured me and my husband, trying to convince us that not receiving antibiotics was the worst possible choice. I told her about my research, she told me the internet has all sorts of misinformation. I told her I got my info from the CDC and ACOG. She told me I was wrong about the negative GBS test. I told her I called her office and they told me it was negative. I left in tears and stressed up to my eyeballs. My labor stopped some hours later and I didn't return until exactly a week after the due date.
After the birth the pediatrician on call told me that we couldn't leave the hospital until 48 hours after the birth because of the positive GBS test. I told him yes we could and, by the way, I tested negative most recently. Pediatrician was puzzled since the hospital didn't have the lab results. When I left the hospital, I vowed never to return for future births, if I could help it. You see, I'm not completely insane. If my baby or I had some complication that needed medical attention, I would go back, just not until then.
Between the hostile CNM and the befuddled Pediatrician, I didn't have a lot of allies at the hospital. They treated me like I was an idiot and couldn't possibly have two brain cells to rub together. My husband, who is an IT professional, excused them as having what he calls "Tech Support Syndrome" (shortened hereafter as "TSS"). TSS is what happens to computer tech support people who deal with computer illiterate people most of the time. Basically, the people we interacted with at the hospital are used to dealing with patients who don't know an auditory ossicle from an orbicularis oris.
Here I am, six years and three babies later and I haven't needed the hospital's services for any of them. My stress level during my children's births has decreased, my babies and I have had fewer birth related problems, and I am happy with my choice.
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