Today's parenting FAIL!

Prepare to be floored.

I got this via @parenting whom I follow on Twitter (thanks, guys!); check it.

The BBC hires a host for a childrens programme who happens to have been born with only one arm. Stupid, frightened, prejudiced parents write in and flood message boards with hysterical crap. Be sure to watch the vid about half way down.

STEP UP parents!

"How do I explain this to a 3 year old?"

Well, just farkin' explain it, dumbarse.  How do you explain a pregnant woman? A black woman? A woman in a wheelchair?

Here, let me help you:

"Mummy, what happened to that lady's hand?" 
"Nothing, Drusilla, darling. She only has one. She was born that way, just like you were born with blonde hair and the cutest dimples evar!"
"Does it hurt?  It looks funny!"
"Do your dimples hurt, silly? No, it's just an arm.  It does look odd, but so does daddy's hair when he first gets up in the morning, LOL. Now come eat your bickie so we can run down to the shops."

SEE?  Easy peasy. Now quit slinking along the edge of motherhood and step up and do your jobs, Moms.

Professor, can I talk to you about my grade?

Well, this week seems to be article posting week!

I blame my lovely and intelligent friends on all of my various boards and on Twitter. They are an amazing, interesting, and varied bunch.

Anyway, here's the article on the inflated sense of entitlement in today's college students.

"“Many students come in with the conviction that they’ve worked hard and deserve a higher mark,” Professor [Marshall] Grossman [U of Maryland] said. “Some assert that they have never gotten a grade as low as this before.”



He attributes those complaints to his students’ sense of entitlement.


“I tell my classes that if they just do what they are supposed to do and meet the standard requirements, that they will earn a C,” he said. “That is the default grade. They see the default grade as an A.”"

[snip]

"James Hogge, associate dean of the Peabody School of Education at Vanderbilt University, said: “Students often confuse the level of effort with the quality of work. There is a mentality in students that ‘if I work hard, I deserve a high grade.’"

And these quotes by students just floored me:

"Jason Greenwood, a senior kinesiology major at the University of Maryland echoed that view.



“I think putting in a lot of effort should merit a high grade,” Mr. Greenwood said. “What else is there really than the effort that you put in?”


“If you put in all the effort you have and get a C, what is the point?” he added. “If someone goes to every class and reads every chapter in the book and does everything the teacher asks of them and more, then they should be getting an A like their effort deserves. If your maximum effort can only be average in a teacher’s mind, then something is wrong.”

Yes, Jason, honey. What's wrong is that you HAVE NOT ACHEIVED ANYTHING. 

Let's say you're stranded on a desert island and there's a cache of food under a large stone.  You go out every day and struggle against that stone - go out 10 times a day and push and groan and really really really make an effort to move that bloody great stone so that you can eat.  But no matter how hard you try, the basic fact is: if you don't move that stone - if you are too small or too weak or whatever other reason - you will not eat.

Just because you pay your money and show up and read the books and attend class doesn't guarantee you an education. You gotta LEARN shit. When you get out in the real world  knowing nothing about kinesiology (what IS that anyway?) you won't be able to tell your boss "Well, I tried really hard!"

Would you like a surgeon operating on you who couldn't recall the basics of gross anatomy but he got good grades cuz he TRIED really hard?!

More student nuggets of wisdom:


"Sarah Kinn, a junior English major at the University of Vermont, agreed, saying, “I feel that if I do all of the readings and attend class regularly that I should be able to achieve a grade of at least a B.”

Yes, Sarah, you should be able to, but you have to show your professor that you actually know something about English not just that you could be arsed to show up for class.


Best quote from article: “Instead of getting an A, they make an A,”

That's right.  We earn what we get.  What a concept.

Parents you are SO falling down on the job. I swear it starts with kindergarten graduations and peewee soccer games where everyone gets a trophy whether they played well or stood on the sidelines whinging. It starts with parents expecting their little perfect miraculous angels to be responsible for their own farking actions.

(PS: yes, I Googled kinesiology.)


 

Ingoings and outcomings

This will be a brief one.

Like I needed something else to contend with, the yarks that the kids all had several days ago descended on Bodog and myself on Friday.

Bodog mostly had diaroeah to contend with but I had the whole pie.  I spent all night Friday night vomiting (what does one vomit up after the first few times?  There's nothing left in your stomach!) and felt queasy all of the day Saturday. Sunday morning I was able to tentatively sip coffee and by supper time I felt good enough to eat a bit.

Fast forward to 1am this morning.  I had to get up and puke and by the time I woke up for the day (at 3:45, oh joy) I had to go hang over the toilet and retch several times an hour.  If I even sipped water, I threw it back up.  Bleh. How could I get better, then feel bad again?!

Now, let me interrupt the bulletin for some good news (it'll all tie back in):

Ms B, the teacher of the 4-year-old Kindergarten, had a child move out of district and had an opening!

BITTY GOT IN SCHOOL!

We found out Friday and she actually started today! w00t!

Now, recall the whole mummy-blowing-chunks thing.

Yeah.

So, this morning, I'm fixing lunches, fixing breakfast, getting school clothes out - my normal routine - in between running to the loo to briefly worship the porcelain god, scrub my hands and dash back out, hoping the whole time that I can make it to the school this morning, because, by golly, unless I'm in an ambulance somewhere, I'm going to be there my child's first day of school.

Well it went fine.  Bodog went with us (he's her focus parent) and she was really really excited.  I had to drag my sorry arse up to the front office and fill out the paperwork again that I'd already bloody filled out the first of the year and then the two wee boys and I dragged home.

So now I'm once again cautiously sipping coffee and resisting the urge to ring the school and make sure Bitty is OK.

I don't know why I'm so worried. Thousands of kids MUCH farther 'along' the autism spectrum attend school happily every day.  I guess because she's never been away from both me and her father; never been in another's care or away from her siblings or home.

Well, I'm terribly happy with all of my children's teachers, and I trust them and the school staff, and, of course Daddy is just a phone call and 4 minutes away right there in the district.

More later when she gets home!

Would ya like to slap a "please" on that before I slap you?

(Alternate title: "No daughter-in-law of mine ...")

OK, so yeah.  I went out in public yesterday (as opposed to scooting out in my sweats, shades, and ratty tee, grabbing my schoolies and running home).

There's a lovely park beside my kids' school and it was an equally lovely day, so the littles and I walked over, fetched the bigs, and they played a bit on the playground.

There was already a family there, a stereotypical C-Town unit: dad, mum, 2 kids (one boy, one girl, natch!), ridiculous little purebred dog, and SUV that seated SEVEN with the tiringly ubiquitous stickers on the back (college team flip-flops/palmetto tree on left and stick-figure family on right with every member even the dog, awwww. NOT).

My five scattered out onto the playgound immediately and I sat on a nearby bridge/toy/thingy that's rarely played on but in the shade.

Almost instantly, the girl, aged about 3, ran afoul of Bulk.  He tried to walk across the same 3 foot wide bridge as she and she SCREAMED at the tops of her lungs and whined piercingly: "Iiiiiiiiiiii was on this!"

Bulk, who has two older sisters, wisely retreated - albeit a bit baffled.

Mom, who looked as if her Zoloft was kicking in nicely, sort of peered into the middle distance.

Dad, however, much in command, was pacing back and forth, cellphone clamped to ear, TALKING IN A VERY LOUD VOICE.  He continued to do this without interruption the entire time they stayed there.  I heard about their friends who were driving down from northern climes and were currently in eastern Virginia and had just stopped to eat and had caught part of some game (football?) on the telly in the restaurant and wow, I hope they make it to the playoffs, etc, etc.

Meantime, the boy was trying earnestly to tell Boy what he should be playing.  Boy was politely talking to him but rebuffing his ideas.  The child was talking about telly shows Boy has never seen (and frankly seem too young for a 5-year-old. He mentioned Barney.)

Anyway, he quickly abandoned Boy for THCTD, who is so social that she happily went along without a clue as to what the boy was talking about.

Problem was, was that the child got more and more aggresive.  He began speaking so loudly he was shouting.  He also had the unnerving habit of leaning right into THCTD's face to speak to her.  He even grasped her arm and pulled her to where he wanted her a few times.

Mom just watched, Dad ignored.

Now THCTD is, heh, no dummy, and she's also a tall, capable gal, so I wasn't afraid this suburban milquetoast was going to bully her, but it did take all of my willpower NOT to micromanage.  At one point they were all playing and Bossy Boy spent the entire time telling everyone in a petulant/cross voice what to do and how to do it.

Cut to Screaming Girl.

She did the rounds whilst everyone else played, and whined and screamed if anyone got in her way or played on anything she wanted.  My crowd just ignored her.  I secretly wished she had encountered Fiver, the 30lb master of screaming-to-get-your-way, on a narrow bridge.  He easily outweighed her and was not much shorter.  It would have been a smackdown.

ANYway, about this time, Screamy appered at my elbow.

Now, I am not about to be ugly to a child unless greatly provoked, especially another person's kid.  So I looked down at her and smiled. The wee cherub, in turn, looked up at me from her nest of entirely playground-inappropriate pink/polka-dotted/frou-frou/tacky/lacy/crapwear-and-hair-accessories and said:

"Can you move? I wan' on dis."

I honestly was so flabbergasted that I got up.

Now, my kids are not perfect by any stretch.  Srsly.  But I do expect them to be polite and respectful and well behaved at all times.

My 3-year-old, Bulk, would not dream of speaking that way to anyone!  If he forgot his 'please', he would still say: "May I get on dis?" in that situation.  But most of all, none of my children would, in a million years, presume to ask an adult to do anything (other than help them)!!!

(Yes, that was worth 3 exclaimation points.)

But brace yourself, it gets better.

Dad, finally gets off the phone. After briefing Mom on a convo that she HAD to have heard, because *I* heard the entire thing to the tiniest detail and I was over 30 feet away, they adjourned, after a brief begging session with their kids ending in a bribe, to their silver Expedition.

We played in peace for a bit.  Ahhhhh.  If only we had one of those playgound thingys here at the house.

Then, just as I was contemplating ringing Bodog and seeing if he was up for meeting us, another huge SUV pulls up (this one was black, but the tacky back window stickers were almost the same).

This one disgorged three lanky girls, a 5th grader, a 2nd grader, and a tall kindergartener dressed, you guessed it, in lace, pink, frou-frou, NOT-play-clothes, crap.

(BTW, I know the exact grades because they were sisters whom Boy knew from school.  They also had awful Western-themed matching names - think Steele,Canyon, and Colt if they'd been boys. *gag*)

(oh, and FWIW, the 2nd grader was wearing a spaghetti tank, miniskirt, and v. high-heeled sandles.  She was clearly athletic but almost fell on those stupid stacked heels and I saw WAY more underpants than should be shown in public.*)

Anyway, Boy knew these three and he homed in on the kindergartener.  Well this little ... person was a piece of work.  At various points whilst she was there, she 1) screamed in his face, 2) asked him questions in a loud, petulant voice, then walked away, and 3) responded in a bored, dismissive fashion when he spoke (at one point she yelled "I do-on't CARE!" after he answered her nicely). Add to this that she cut in front of, pushed, and stepped on all of my other children, whinged loudly at anyone if he/she played where she wanted to play (in a stunning imitation of Screaming Girl - 2 years hence), and totally ignored their caretaker/nanny/mom(?) despite the woman asking her repeatedly to stop risky stunts. (Woman never once asked her to to quit being the wee bitch that she was being.)

I, meanwhile was sat by, alternately fuming and being gobsmacked at these kids' behaviours.  I mean, can you imagine Princess Bitch all grown up?  Her poor, poor husband-to-be.

I finally couldn't stand it any more and instructed Boy, sotto voce,  not to play with her.  Poor HCTD had been trying since they arrived just to get them to speak to her but every girl just ignored her. Bitty and Bulk tried to stay out of the way as all three girls were running, pushy-shovey, climbing on things not meant to be climbed on, etc.

Then Fiver got involved.

Well Princess Bitch decided she wanted to go thru an opening currently occupied by Fiver.  She screamed at him AND tried pushing him and he jutted out his jaw and held his ground. Hey, he's got sisters.

(BTW, they were almost 5 feet off the ground and she was trying to push him OUT of the opening.  I was halfway accross the playground - incoming - at this juncture.)

So I grab Fiver, but he's gripping the bars and glaring up at PB.  I have to prise his fingers off and this takes, what, 4 seconds? Meantime PB is trying to get out the opening by stepping over us and steps on my hand.  I look up at her and she says:

(wait for it)

"Can you move?"

"Please?" I snap, and the look on her face is priceless.  She is stunned.  She stares at me wide-eyed for several seconds as I give her my best I'm-gonna-pick-a-switch-and-wear-your-arse-out look.  She glances nervously at Boy and you can see the connections being made in her self-centered ,over-indulged brain; this is a mom who runs a tight ship, this is a boy who is polite and sweet as a result.

But then her momma's glorious parenting kicks in and she rolls her eyes and says in her best 'whatevrrrrr' voice: "yeah, please" and steps over us onto the climbing thingy.

-----

Now, I've spoken a lot in the past about how I wanted all boys and how nervous I was about raising girls and how I'm not girlyfroufrou and didn't know how I would handle that sort of stuff.  Well, I've learned a lot from my two smart, capable, wee girls including how I won't die if there are *gag* fairy books and *gag* pink frilly shirts in my house.  People are individuals.

But, by golly, one thing I've NOT done is produce two whining, screaming, self-centered, mean-spirited, over-indulged, wastes of two X chromosomes disguised as clothes racks.  My girls are friendly, sweet, and polite.  Oh yeah, they DO whine a bit, and yeah, they do like to get their way every now and then, and yeah, they can be difficult as only us females can be (hence the 'used to sisters' remarks), but they are at heart great little people.  NOT divas, NOT brats, NOT princesses.

*amount of underpant veiwable in public on any underage female that is acceptable? NONE.

EDITED to correct glaring typos.  Sorry.

But, if it had been a cloth nappy

... he'd never have hit the ground at all!

(I just had to post this as a poke at folks who get all rabid over the cloth -vs- sposies thing.)

SAO PAULO, Brazil – A disposable diaper has saved the life of an 18-month-old boy, breaking his fall from a third-floor apartment window, officials said Thursday.


Caua Felipe Massaneiro survived a 30-foot (10-meter) fall because his diaper snagged on a security spike embedded in the concrete wall around his apartment building in the northeastern Brazilian city of Recife.


The boy dangled from the spike for a moment, then "the diaper opened and the baby fell to the ground, but at a much slower speed," a police officer said. "The diaper obviously lessened the impact of the fall and saved the baby's life."


"It was a miracle," said the officer who declined to be identified because she was not authorized to speak to the press.

I'm really glad the baby is alright!  And while I'm commenting, I hope they crack that dad upside the head with a board.  What idiot leaves an 18 month old in a room with a sofa up against a window?!

He'd "never done that before"?

My 17 month old can climb on top of his sisters's bunk bed and it has no ladder!

Of dolts and duct tape

Ohhh, have I got one for you today!

I almost posted this over on Blue's Blog because I felt the need, upon reading this, to use (v. bad word) or maybe (oh dear! naughty!), so if one slips out, forgive me.

Check it out. Parents whinge about tape on doors.

"At a heated meeting Monday, Michelle Mata told the Lake Local school board in Millbury that the tactic panicked her son during a recent weekend trip to Chicago.
Sylvia Keeler said she may file charges. Her son, Mark Hummel, said he worried he could be trapped during a fire."

Oh cry me a river, emo boy! Trapped? By one piece of duct tape?

Well, I am of an engineering bent and love science, so I was fascinated and wanted to explore this topic.

Let's take a look at this.

This is the door to the bathroom in my home. It is much lighter that the average hotel room door (a heavier door would be advantageous to opening).



I taped it shut with not one but two bits of regular 3M duct tape like ye get from Lowe's:



Taped thus, the door came open easily.

Well, I don't know details of the hotel door taping and I also wasn't trying to get out from the inside. What I needed was help for this to be as accurate as possible.

How could I simulate a 'panicky' high school student?

Like this:



Yeah. Ohio moms? Yer kids are SO playing you and you need to wake up and start parenting.

For your further entertainment pleasure, here's a hot discussion on the subject.

Here it is over on our own Evil Genius Woman boards. Feel free to join us and tell us what you think!

Oh, by the way. Just a thought. Don't hotel doors open INWARD? That would make the whole thing moot. Even my 14 month old could the bloody damned thing.



The Human Crash Test Dummy: daughter of that woman who duct taped her child into the loo!

UPDATE! -

I just gleaned this from the Topix forum (abt page 133 I think) linked above:

"Okay people, i was one of the students in the room where the conflict arose. A simple strip wasn't all it was. It went from the wall around the handle twice back onto the wall. As simple as it sounds it was more. Yes, i agree everything has been blown out of proportion, but to sit there and riddicule everyone for not being able to open the door is rediculous. I don't for one beleive that this matter should have escaladed into a lawsuit, no. Personally i hope for everything to be closed and done sooner than what it seems to be. " (sic)

Uhm ...

I surely surely hope this is a joke. If this is an actual forum post by a student in this Millbury Ohio high school, then you Ohio Moms need to stop being concerned about duct tape! Not only do your wee delicate babes NEED to be taped in a room they need to be in there doing their English Homework!

The times they are a-changin'

Quick update!

Fiver has two wee teeth! He can eat a soda cracker by himself! He can caterpillar along on the deck (unbeknowst to me) and scare me witless by almost falling down the steps! He's been sleeping in his crib downstairs in his room (as opposed to upstairs in the pack-n-play next to our bed) for several weeks now!

Yep, it's amazing to me how big he's getting. Why don't I remember the others growing so fast?


Just yesterday he hiked himself up on his hands and knees and swayed there for a half a second before flopping back down again.

*sigh*


-----

Boy loves school. So far he hasn't conflicted with any of his classmates (although a few of them are pretty naughty and disruptive, apparently). He adores his teachers. Their schoolwork goes like this: each week they work on learning a letter of the alphabet. Lessons on familiarisation with the letter go home as homework, they colour a pic of the 'letter person', they practice writing the letter.

Meanwhile, at home, Boy is writing and illustration a book about dinosaurs entirely on his own. He's up to over 70 pages.

Their math work consists of learning to count to 50. Boy can do simple addition and subtraction including a bit with double digits and a limited amount of multiplication.

To say that he's not captivated by the current schoolwork would be an understatement.

Fortunately, he's totally absorbed socially, and probably will be for the rest of the year, learning things he needs to know; how to deal with people and the wide world.

-----

I have already observed a few behaviour changes - both in Boy and THCTD.

As I predicted, the Queen of Crash quickly and eagerly took up the reins of Bossy-ness as soon as Boy was out of the house during the day. She now spends the entire day telling everyone what to do (including me: "Momma, (wee fists on hips) Fiver needs his bottle! You should give Fiver his bottle now!").



Then he returns home, hyped up, bursting to tell about his day, ready to be the centre of attention, and you have ... The Perfect Storm.

Every day.

I quickly instituted the same method of discipline that Boy's teacher uses; three 'tickets' (she has them shaped like crayons) one green, one yellow, one red. First infraction, you lose the green ticket and are 'on yellow' and thus at the warning stage. Second infraction, you lose the yellow and are 'on red' and lose such privileges as treats after supper, or getting to play outside, etc.

It works well because Boy knows it from school and the rest of the brood are awed by anything relating to school right now.

I also put up a chore chart and a 'going' chart (everyone gets to go with me, singley, for some alone-time-with-momma, any time I run an errand after EGH gets home.)

-----

On a related note, I have also noticed that *I* am more organised and tidy now. I keep my calendar marked, I get up early and fix lunches, I clean more consistantly, and so on.

Me, cleaning. What's the world coming to?

Grand Mom

How frickin' cool is this?

Mom givs birth to her own grandbubs after her daughter - an only child - was unsuccessful at carrying to term. That just rocks.

Rosinete Palmeira Serrao, a government health worker, gave birth to twin boys by Caesarean section on Thursday at the Santa Joana Hospital in the city of Recife, the hospital said in a statement on its Web site.
Serrao decided to serve as a surrogate mother after four years of failed attempts at pregnancy by her 27-year-old daughter, Claudia Michelle de Brito.

Brazilian law stipulates that only close relatives can serve as surrogate mothers. De Brito is an only child and none of her cousins volunteered, so Serrao agreed to receive four embryos from her daughter.

Cool!

Would you do that for your daughter? I totally would. What about your sister, SIL, cousin?

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Low impact

So, I found this cool article on a family that went 'deep green'.

They don't use electricity (washing clothes by hand - w00t!), ride on transport that depends on fossil fuels (planes, trains, automobiles), or buy anything new (ala The Compact). The bloke calls is 'no impact living' and blogs it here.

I find this fascinating - being a thriftychik - and inspiring. I also plan to wander back through his blog and see how they cope with having a child while doing this (their daughter is two). I maintain that people, mostly women, waste a STUNNING amount of money, energy, time, and resources on their kids.

What do YOU do to 'be green' or 'reduce your carbon footprint' (I already hate that trite phrase, taken up by pseudo-conservationists who pat themselves on the back for ordering in bulk; organic, non-bleached, hemp-waste-fiber-lined, disposable nappies for two bucks a piece) if anything, as a parent?

Do you do what you do for the environment? To live more simply? To save money? To be healthier? To reduce consumerism? To reduce waste?

Do you find yourself being less thrifty/waste conscious since you had kids (buying convenience foods, snack-sized ziplok bags, name-brand clothing) or more so (buying food in bulk and freezing, cooking more/packing lunches, yardsale shopping)?

I think I'm getting thriftier and thriftier, lol (and my motivation, btw, is mostly financial. I'm trying to save money and live as simply as possible. I think improving the environment and personal health will follow). I constantly search for ways to save money like buying washable containers for juice and snacks so that I can pack those things from out of bulk containers into lunches and snacks-on-the-go.

So please share your 'style'!



Right now I:

-Buy food in bulk, divide and freeze.

-Cook/prepare several meals at once and freeze/refrigerate.

-Cook from scratch as much as possible.

-Try never to use plastic cling film, aluminium foil, storage bags, baby wipes, paper plates/napkins. I also save what little aluminium foil I use, wash plastic storage bags (unless they've contained raw meat), AND disposable baby wipes (yes, you can launder them several times before they fall apart). I use one small box of plastic wrap and foil per year, have the same box of store brand ziplok bags I bought when we moved here 5 years ago, and don't have paper plates in the house.

-Cloth diapered all 5 children (same nappies, too, but *whew* some of them are falling to bits!)

-Buy all clothing and furniture at yard sales, thrift stores, via local buy-and-trade list, or free off of Freecycle (or hand-me-downs and freebies). Exceptions: mattresses and underpants.

-Use all compact florescent bulbs. The only incandescent lights I have are ones in the barnyard for heat (over baby animals for instance).

-Hand wash dishes and hang all clothes to dry.

-Do all household and automotive repairs possible myself.

-Scavenge!!!

Of course, I also:

-Farm, and so run a tractor and a pick-up truck for hauling.
-Drive a huge full-sized van.
-Have an online business and so run a desk-top, laptop, and many peripherals all day, every day.
-Am addicted to films which means a huge telly, DVD player, VCR, and hundreds of films which come in those ridiculous packages with all the plastic on (and don't forget the sticky bits!)
-Ditto Diet Coke which I consume in insane quantities and wonder why EGH is not actually COMPOSED of, like Hydro-Man, (Except he'd be, like, Diet Coke Man, LOL). I do recycle every single can, though.

-----

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Their bad mother?*

Ohh, have I got a tidbit for you!

Today's burning question: do you ever leave your children in the car?

I'm asking under the assumption that no one who reads this blog leaves children alone in a parked car for more than a few moments. I mean to run in a petrol station to pay for gas, dash in the post office to post a letter, or step into the pizza place to pick up your take-away order, for example.

I do.

And I always have. (Here's babycenter's poll on the subject.)

If it's warm, I leave the AC on full blast; I always have the emergency brake on and always have the car locked (but running) and have my spare key with me. Obviously all of mine are strapped in their carseats.

Now, having said all that, let me tell you about my day...

I had to take Fiver to his well child check up today. 'Well' was a misnomer as he's just cut two teeth and has caught the sniffly,snotty crap (our first illness of the child-in-school syndrome!) that the others had. He'd been miserable all day.

Anyway, due to circumstances beyond Dr. Clemson's control, they were swamped today and running behind. My appointment was at 4, I got back on my side of town (with rush hour traffic - whee!) at 6:45.

THCTD was with us and by the time we rolled through Chapin she was starving. Fiver had had FIVE shots and an oral vaccine and after much crabby screaming had finally fallen into a troubled sleep.

I knew It was too late to get home and fix supper so I decided to stop at Subway and grab EGH and THCTD subs.

I arrived in the sleepy town of Chapin and parked directly in front of the Subway (you know what those wee Subway's look like, the whole front is glass). Rather than drag THCTD and a hot, sore, sleeping infant out into the heat, I decided to leave the car running and leave them inside.

I could see the car clearly from anywhere inside but I stayed glued to the front glass, giving my order long distance to the bewildered employees.

I spotted the waddling woman eyeing my car, immediately.

She circled my car, never looked around for the mother (me), but did exhort a random passerby; a stringy old lady who whipped her husband into a frenzy. Both produced their cellphones.

Now, note that at this point, I'd been out of the car for about 3 minutes. The car was on, emergency brake on, AC on, doors locked, and I had the spare key. And I was under 20 feet away.

I innocently thought perhaps Fiver had woken and was crying, so I hurried out (leaving the Subway bint with her mouth open) passing both women. Nope, THCTD was cool and singing happily, Fiver was still dozing. I got something out of my handbag and looked around for the two women. I was going to tender explanations, maybe garner a bit of mommy sympathy.

They both had dematerialised.

By the time I got back into the subway, the police had arrived (had her lights on as well! I felt so Jesse James like!)

So there followed a lengthy explanation wherein I told her about the wait, the drive, the shots, the hunger, etc, etc ... she said I should never leave kids in the car; I pointed out the AC and that I was just a couple dozen feet away ... she said they could be abducted; I explained the car was locked and I had the spare key ... she said I should have gone through a drive through; I explained that I didn't feed my kids fast food much at all (that stunned her into silence)

Let me pause in my tale to make a statement:

I am NOT angry that these two women rang the police. Better safe than sorry, I say. I am disappointed that these two cowardly moms didn't just TALK TO ME!

I walked right by you! Why didn't you speak to me? Did I seem that imposing, edgy, desperado-who-would-nick-your-nappy-bag-like? (I was wearing my new, official, One Tough Mother t-shirt, lol)

What would YOU, blog readers, have done?

I personally would have - off the top of my head - said: "Hey, you look like you've had a day! Ya want me to stand here and keep an eye on these cuties while you grab your food?"

Even if someone is overtly abusing a child, like striking him (not spanking him), I have the ovaries to walk up to their faces and go: "Hey, bitch, you are so wrong for that. You wanna punch someone, try punching me!" (or whatever, you get my drift)

But to see two cool, peaceful, happy children in a car, witness their close by mother come and check on them, and then ring the cops, and THEN slink away is just too much.

If you feel so strongly about something then you should stand up and say so.

I have been mothering for about 5 and a half years now and I make judgement calls all the time. I will continue to do so for the next 18 or so years, minimum. Not all of them will be right, correct, or good, but I stand by them. I'm doing the best job of moming that i can do and if anyone has a problem with it, well, they can get stuffed and I'll explain it to the police, LOL!


*Apologies to Her Bad Mother!

Going backwards

Did you see this?

The death from childbirth rate is still only 13 in 100,000, but, as the article says: "the fact that maternal deaths are rising at all these days is shocking."

Indeed. That's still over 500 deaths a year from childbirth. That's over 500 mothers.

I'm fascinated by these findings also because *I* possess all of the three suggested qualities that might be causing this increase in maternal mortality: older mom, overweight, and had c-sections. (They also mention larger babies and complications and my smallest baby was 9lbs even, my largest 10lbs 8oz, so I 'qualify' there, too.)

Thoughts? Opinions?

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First day of school, ever.

I'll be right over here worrying, if you need me.

Stressed!

Just had to update you. I know, I know, I've been teh suxxorz with blogging, but I swear I've been soooooooo busy ...

1) Evil Genius Husband stepped on a huge nail in the barnyard and has been out of commission for ages. It's been so bad that I've been having to open it up every day and drain the CRAP out of the wound. Ya know ... eeeeewww.
I would have taken pics for you, but, yark city. Really.

The good news is that he's on the mend ("I got better!") and just in time to return to work yesterday. Not that he was excited about that. Run over to his blog and encourage him to share.


I've also been having to do ALL of the chores, all of the off-farm running about, plus the babies, and the household, wifey, laundry-cooking-cleaning stuff (plus working on my stores, natch, and my new Squidoo lens).


2) Fiver is teething, transitioning into his crib (in the room with Boy and Bulk) for naps, and getting weaned off of his one night-time bottle. Fun stuff!


3) The new pup, Roy, is doing well, getting huge (his front paws are a big as my wooden cooking spoons!), getting crate trained, and generally being a red, fluffy terror. Pics soon!


4) Boy is starting school for the first time next Thursday. He is v. excited and i am a wreck. We had our first experience with the school yesterday. I'm sure to fire up this blog with ongoing comments. Last night was a nightmare of inefficiency.

5) I survived a mini family reunion in which The Brood went into an in-ground pool for the first time ever.

It's a wee bit maddening how some folks don't comprehend the logistics of having 5 children under the age of 6 and often view your nervousness as a laughable overreaction.

They have one child or two children who are often spaced apart by 2 or more years or are older and they simply cannot understand why I'm so paranoid about common things like: paddling in the surf, crossing a busy road, or going into a pool.

Well, picture it. We're at the seaside. Only counting mine, there are 4 children, none of whom can swim, all capable of walking right out into the ocean. Or wandering up the beach. Or back over the dunes out into the road.

Next time you go to a petting zoo or a farm, pick out four chickens and see how long you can keep an eye on all four as they wander in every direction, LOL!

The swimming thing is particularly stressful for me. You cannot just explain to a four-year-old that the pool has a sharp drop-off and she will go in over her head and be unable to breathe. If she's never been in water deeper than a bathtub before she will not comprehend.

Add to the mix a three-year-old and a two-year-old, both eager to be in the water (and my five month old inside the house where there were people I didn't know) and my stress levels were stratospheric.*

All in all it was a wonderful time, though, really. The babes had a ball and now that they've been in the pool and 'get' what's going on, I feel much more comfortable about doing it again. Incidentally, of the women there with kids, no one attempted to parent my children (though one got in a few grandmotherly zings in my direction, lol).

I question whether this was incidental, a matter of personalities, or whether they really DID do things but I was either too distracted or more forgiving because most of these people were related to my children (of the 3 other moms, two are blood relatives of my kids and one is the mother of a blood relative. In the other situation, only two of the four were any relation.)

Speaking of something that might possibly be my perception, let me ask you this: the only two kids close in age to mine were a boy and a girl, both a few years older than Boy. Both seemed to be very physical in playing with my kids. The girl, quite literally, carried THCTD around and sat her almost the entire time on her lap like a great doll. THCTD was perfectly happy (though, clearly somewhat confused) because she's a touchy-feely-lovey sort.

Boy, however, was nonplussed and at one point really upset by how rough the other boy was. The child kept grabbing Boy and shoving him, running up to him, running into him, etc. He knocked him down (accidentally) at least twice that I saw.

The child wasn't being ugly at all, he was just really exuberant. My kids are pretty physical - the boys and the girls -, tearing about the house, wrestling and playing, (but grabbing and shoving are absolutely verboten), so I chalked it up to this kid being so much bigger than Boy. All of mine are close to the same size and so, better matched.

Opinions?

*I am not, by the way, overly worried that one of my children will drown. Despite not being seen in swimwear in over 10 years, I am a superb swimmer and have no compunction whatsoever about going into water fully clothed, with all the grace of a breaching humpback cow, if one of my calves goes under.

I'll meet you at high noon in the main aisle of ToysRUs

(A two-pronged rant)

I've noticed that some mothers, as they get farther and farther away from their own experience in a particular phase of parenting, feel more and more strongly that they are experts on that segment of parenting and so are more willing to interfere with a mommy who's experiencing that phase right now.

I call this "Blue's Rule of Parental Experience Proximity". Let me explain:

I have plenty of time on various mommy/baby/infertility/TTC boards. I have had light convos, intense discussions, and outright arguments with ladies all over the world on the subject of parenting. In addition, I know moms from other boards, plus the few I know IRL.

Among them, I find the type of mom I'm talking about. Usually a mother who has kids the same age as mine is NOT liable to offer up unsolicited advice. If I'm talking about, say, potty training, most moms of toddlers/pre-schoolers give only sympathy unless I actually ASK for advice. The random one who just thrusts her opinion on people comes across as a right bitch.

Hold that thought.

I've noticed that the farther away from the trials of potty training (to use our example) some mothers are, the more willing they are to tell us current potty trainers how to do it.

The phenomenon culminates in the Grandmother. Not all Grandmothers are like this, but a tidy few are. How many Grans do you know - either your own mother/MIL or total strangers - who have absolutely no problem elbowing mom out of the way to take over or making snarky comments on how mom isn't doing something right?

Grandparents are also quick to trot out the excuses: "I have more experience than you." (so, rather than letting you find your own way and make your own mistakes, I'll just parent for you!) and "But we just love our grandkids so much." (that we are willing to ignore your wishes and take over!)

Hold onto that thought as well.

My theory is further supported by those without kids. Have you ever noticed that it's your friend or co-worker who has never had kids who thinks she's a parenting expert? How many first-time-pregnant moms-to-be have you heard spout off loads of smug wisdom on how mommying should be done? (I did it horribly before I had kids, did you? Makes me cringe to think of it.)

What's up with this?

Example #1: I just spent time with four moms. Two with kids the same age as mine, one with teenagers, and one with grown kids and grandkids. The two younger moms never once did anything to or with my kids without asking. The middle mom helped out, but caught herself before doing or allowing big things. The last mom simply did as she wished, making me have to, literally, watch her like a hawk as she parented my children as she saw fit. When I came behind her and corrected things, she rolled her eyes, sighed dramatically, and, at one point actually threw up her hands and snapped: "Fine!"

Example #2: On the way back from our recent beach trip, we stopped at a restaurant (a rare treat) and were all sat down eating. Fiver was in his carseat with his bottle (Yes, his bottle was propped. I confess it: I'm a Bottle Propper. Ring DSS. None of my breastfed children has EVER taken a bottle from me - they will from other people - and he's right on the cusp of being able to hold it himself).

Anyway, he was just playing with it as there was so much interesting Whisky Tango action (a blog for another day - hey it was Orangeburg, SC), and we were all eating happily. Suddenly a little old woman materialised at my shoulder, reached into the carseat, into my child's face, snatched the bottle, and cried, loudly: "Is the baby supposed to be getting milk?! Is he getting any?! The bottle's slipped!"

Now, my 5-month-old Fiver weighs 22lbs. He's in the 95th percentile for height and weight. All of my children are rosy-cheeked, robust, and smiling (or were at that second ... until she showed up. Then they were transfixed, forks halfway to their mouths, staring in wonder, as was the entire restaurant). He does not look as if he misses any meals.

When I put my hand on her arm and murmured that he was fine, really, she laughed and said those magic words: "You know how us Grandmas are!"

Erm, maddening? Meddling?

Example #3 (and it's a biggie): There's this lady on one of my boards to whom I do not speak. We had a falling out one day (BTW, she is probably unaware of my ire, so smug is she in her opinion) over parenting. We were discussing public school's policies regarding children with food allergies.

My opinion is that schools should go to reasonable lengths to insure the safety of kids with food allergies: separate eating area, no home-made treats brought to class, etc. I do NOT think , for example, that schools should disallow anyone bringing homemade lunches for their own consumption. This is a violation of the rights of the hundreds of other kids who attend that school. What's next? Banning any and all eating of peanut containing products at the homes of teachers, staff, and other students? (Because, after all, someone could have peanut butter on his fingers when he arrives at class.) Do we need to forbid all other allergens as well? Wheat? Eggs? Where does it end?
These children have to survive in the real world. Forcing their school environment to conform so severely to their needs that it ignores everyone else's rights is not helping them. The real world will not do this for them.

The mom on the board with whom I butted heads has a grandchild with peanut allergies and was outraged at my opinion. She implied that she loved her grandchild more than I loved my children because she was more than willing to stomp on the rights of others on her grandchild's behalf and I was not.

Uhm, no, honey. Mommy Rule #1: do not ever, ever, ever suggest that you are a better parent or love your kids more because you parent them reasonably differently. I breastfeed, you don't: I'm a better mom? NO. You co-sleep, I don't: you love your kids more? NO. My oldest is 5 and yours is 35 so you're a better mother by default? Not necessarily.

Is it just that this woman is obnoxious, or is it Blue's Rule of Parenting Experience Proximity? Or is it just me?

What's your opinion on others parenting your kids without asking (or offering unsolicited opinions thereon)? Is it ASSvice/interference if it comes from a stranger/childless friend/co-worker but fine from aunts/moms/grands? Should someone with a vested interest in the child (like grandma) be allowed to parent a child with disregard to the mother's wishes and/or without her request (for instance, discipline, or allow mom-forbidden things) if she, in her superior experience thinks it's best?

Sound off moms and grandmoms!

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An appropriate post title this time!

LOL, I just realised that the title for the last post made no sense! I had started a post, then changed it, and never changed the title. Did you wonder where all the monologue-y stuff was? Or just figure I was being a spaz as usual?

I wanted to clarify something about my last post (aside from the apropos-of-nothing title); I am NOT opposed to organized play in any form. Not at all. I am opposed to it in the absence of unfettered running, jumping, kicking, climbing, colouring, pretending, reading, etc. (Many of you already echoed this sentiment in the comments.)

I have a problem with parents deciding to sign their kids up (esp. wee kids) for things because "everyone else's kid is in soccer", or "it'll teach him to be competitive", or "she'll love it after a while, you'll see! I loved dance!" then failing to see the signs of their child not really wanting to be there but doing to please them or because they think they have to.

If my kids want to play organised sports (later) that's cool. Play in the band? FAB idea! Take acting lessons? I won't stop 'em.

I even intend to insist that my children participate in certain things. How's that for parent initiated, lol? One is formal swimming lessons. I feel that that is a necessary skill.

I just object to the poor kids who are scheduled to death with too many activities and/or guilted (sometimes unintentionally) by their parents into competition at something. Parents fighting at t-ball fields? Kids who don't have time for homework because of schedule conflicts? Children as young as four with repetitive motion sports injuries? Kids who are stressed, eat poorly, and do badly in school because they spend so many hours on the road between activities and coming home late because of them?

No. Bad. Sorry. V. v. bad.

-----

Well, i am prepared to maybe, kinda, sort of, tentatively say that perhaps I might be losing weight again. I'm a bit mystified as to why. I tried eating (as you all said) and my weight didn;t budge one iota. So I went back to NOT eating but increased my water intake to five 20oz bottles per day of plain water (in addition to the approximately 23 Diet Cokes I drink per day and the occasional flavoured water). I also started some v. light weight training - seriously, I'm using 5lb hand weights and doing a TEENSY bit of upper body stuff. (I'm not strong enough to do more than a few sets of 10 reps.)

I hesitate to try floor exercises because, as funny as it seems afterward, it's almost impossible for me to get down on the floor - or, indeed, back up - with my knee. I can't physically bend it more than 90 degrees and I can't kneel on it. Ouchie! Makes me hurt to think about it.

At any rate I'm down 11lbs since the last plateau and now hovering here. Trying to think of what to do to jump-start myself again because I'm only 40lbs from my target weight (not to be confused with my goal weight (180lbs - the weight at which I look good) or my 'ideal' weight - the weight that all the books say I should be - a laughable 140lbs.

Sorry experts, I'm a big, strong type of girl with huge boobs. I look FAB at 180lbs. If that's 40lbs overweight then too effin' bad.

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Last thing, just a teensy wee geekgasm: did you check out my favicon next to the URL for my blog? How cool is that? Can you tell what it is?

It's a dumpster.

Aahahahahahahahahahahah!

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Day two in Hell

Apologies right up front. This is one big ol' whine at 4:30am (Friday). Feel free to give it a miss.

Well this damned yeast is kicking my bountiful arse. As of this morning (1am, whee!) Fiver latching on was so painful I had to keep myself from yelling out and waking EGH. I can't go on like this. I have an unusually high threshold for pain and I was crying after a few minutes. I ended up having to unlatch him - something that has never happened; usually there's an initial stabbing/burning pain then I 'get used to it'. Not this time. He's getting more blood than milk from the left side.

I've just taken a load of my pain meds to see if I can make it through nursing the other side. I'll go out to the Wal Mart today when EGH gets home and get one of those cheapo manual breast pumps. I've used them before and they work well for me and I'll be DAMNED if I'm going to stop breastfeeding. I don't mind tossing in a little formula until we get over this and I absolutely cannot keep eating pain meds all day just to be able to feed.

I feel so bad. I'm just depressed in general with the daunting task of losing weight. It's 100% my own fault, of course, that I have it to lose in the first place, but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. All the post-partum swelling doesn't help, making me gross and awkward like I was still pregnant. I also have no energy. I try to get stuff done and get so tired. I suppose all the Percocet isn't helping that. Bah.

I'm feeling and looking old, fat, and tired.

And since I've dragged you down into this sudden pity party, let me go ahead and say that all this crap makes me feel bad for EGH, too. Nothing like having an in-pain, half-doped, old, fat, tired, and crabby wife wandering about and complaining. Oh glee.

To top it all off, he's having enough trouble at work with a few fellow teachers (who deserve the moniker that starts with a 'B' and ends with 'itches', but I'll be polite and not say that here *ahem*). These cows are of the sort (and I know all of us have worked with this type before) who are just never satisfied. They don't want to do any work but they don't want anyone else to be recognized or praised. They gossip and are nosey. They fight every policy change by undermining the administration, talking behind the Principal's back, going to the district office, yet they never present viable alternate suggestions for solving problems. All they do is stir the pot, stir the pot, bitch, gripe, gossip, and moan.

I hate women like this. HATE them.

Ya know, if you don't agree with something, then stand up and say so. Come up with a better idea on how to do things. Voice your concerns to everyone. Follow the chain of command. Do your freakin' job.

How hard is this?

If you're not happy with yourself, unfulfilled at home, or whatever, then too bad. This is your job. Suck it up, pull on your big girl underpants and freakin' deal with it. I say this almost every day: these women better be damned thankful that it's the sweet, polite, pushover of an Evil Genius that they have to deal with and not me.

Especially me with thrush.

(This is me. This is me with thrush. Be afraid. Be very afraid)
(How's that for mixing catchphrases?)
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PS: thanks everyone for reading this drivel. Sometimes I feel like you guys are the only ones keeping me sane.

Die, die, DIE!

I have enough disgruntlement (it's a word!) over clueless twinkies on baby boards who write things like: "we had a peak at the baby in their", and "my hip's feel so lose", but I get particularly exasperated when I spot Grammar Idiocy in print. I mean, isn't that why people pay a person called The Editor? Helloooo!

So, I'm reading one of my comic books (Ultimate Fantastic Four currently written by Mike Carey) and Reed Richards (arguably the cleverest bloke in the Marvel Universe - which makes it 10 times worse) refers to a cube-shaped object as ... wait for it ... "A Dice."

Kill me now*.

----

In related news - but more pleasant - I had a teary-eyed moment of intense motherly pride the other day.

I was kidding my oldest (aged five-years-in-less-than-two-weeks), Boy, about being so skinny. I was jokingly comparing him to his sister the Human Crash Test Dummy who, despite her appetite, remains downright scrawny. He laughed and said:

"I'm not scrawny! None of us is scrawny!"

None of us IS scrawny.

I know grown people, folks who have graduated from university, who cannot get subject-verb agreement down pat. But my five-year-old can do it. Really, I almost wept with pride.

Of course it's not because he's a genius or anything (although the boy is pretty bloody clever. He can read and write easily and knows a startling amount about dinosaurs), it's that he has two parents who strive to speak impeccable English (not counting his mother's random *koff* epithet).

I don't think people grasp sometimes how much they influence their children by example.

Folks carefully read a book a night to their toddlers, for instance, thinking that this is all one needs to produce readers. It's not enough. Children have to see a love of books. They have to see Mum and Dad reading books, the house needs to be filled with books.

So many people think that school will teach their children to speak and write properly - again - it's not enough. Language development begins in babyhood. Along with most other things.

You can't wait. You can't think: "Well, I'll begin teaching proper grammar/ table manners/ politeness / how to share/ how to write thank-you notes/ fill-in-the-blank when she gets older."

The same idea holds for discipline, IMHO. You can't think: "He's way too young to discipline now" or "Aww, let him stand up in the shopping trolley, he's too small to fall out" or "Well, she's two. Two year olds often throw themselves on the ground in the parking lot and scream and thrash about because they don't want to be buckled in their carseats."

I suppose you've heard about the overzealous Ms. Sally the-government-knows-what's-best-for-your-children-better-than-you-do Lieber and her anti-spanking legislation proposal? John Rosemond (whom I generally adore) wrote a good piece on it.

Aside from the obviously unacceptable notion that the government should be allowed to intrude any further into my life, and the hysterical/ liberal view that popping a child on the hand or the bum is child abuse, there's a practical problem:

The whole thing is bass-ackwards in my opinion. You consistently discipline from the get-go (including reasonable spanking if that's your thing) , by the time a child reaches age four - an age where you can explain things and reason with a child - then you shouldn't have to spank very often afterward.

The whole don't-touch-until-age-four thing seems like an accident waiting to happen. Wouldn't an out of control child who has had nothing but gentle rebukes; brief time-outs; and deep, meaningful talkings-to be more likely to be abused by an exasperated parent exploding and really beating him?

Of course, the real point of all of this is that yet another person is attempting to tell us mothers that we cannot be trusted to use our own judgement. If it isn't other mothers doing mommy drive-bys or Republicans telling us we have no rights to make decisions about our own bodies, it's the Democrats defining spanking for us because, bless out little hearts, we are too stupid to do this tough job of motherhood without guidance.

Leave us the heck alone! Trust us and we will be more apt to trust ourselves and do a good job of raising future generations. Perhaps that's why some folks let things like education and discipline slide - they have been berated by others (all the stupid childcare books by the 'experts' spring to mind) into thinking that they are not doing a good enough job.

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PS: Just a note to everyone awaiting goodies. I'm getting to it! I made an error and waited until after the first so they cut my cheque (which removes all the mad money from my store account) so I have to wait until I accumulate more. Sorry for the delay!

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*Yeah, I know. You're all saying: "well, it's just a comic book!" NO! No excuse. My children will be reading these one day. Those guys are writers and should be held to the same exacting standards as any writer! Now if we could just get newspapers on board. Worst. Grammar. Evar!

Edited to add: in all fairness I had to come back and point out that I was mistaken about who said 'dice'. It was johnny Storm, not Reed. Not that this excuses it.

Stepping up to the plate

Blimey, I hate it when you guys make good sense.

OK, I will take all of your sage advice and go to all of my OB appointments. I agree with you. No inconvenience is worth risking the health of my baby. Period.

----

Oh, and you people who want freebies from my shops need to email me! C'mon, c'mon! FREE stuff! I've gotten comments and emails from a bunch of your telling me you want goodies but only two of you have actually sent me your choice* and your snail-mail addy**!

Get crackin' ladies/gentlemen!

Oh, one other thing: I totally forgot about mugs. Want a mug? A baby bib? Email me and let me know. I wanna show y'all how much ah LURVES ya.

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OK, on to more serious stuff.

Have you heard about the MySpace lawsuit?

Some parents are suing MySpace because they say their 14-16 year old daughters were sexually assaulted by adults they met there. They are suing for $30 million.

Oh, yeah, and better security for teens.

I call bullsh*t on this one.

Number one, *I* am the mom. *I* am responsible for the health, safety, and well-being of my children. There are some things out of a parent's control. Drunk drivers spring to mind. Your kids have to learn to drive sometime. They have to go to school, and to work, and, eventually, out into the world. The best you can do is to teach them to never drive after they themselves have been drinking; to always, always keep their eyes on other drivers; to stay alert; follow the rules (don't speed, wear your seatbelt, etc); and after that you just hope.

But the internet isn't the motorway. It's just as dangerous, but it's right there in your own home. You have control over it. Unlike your driving child, you can monitor your surfing child.

Allowing a child unlimited internet access (and apparently the ability to just leave the house to meet strangers) is like driving your child to a seedy mall in the bad part of town, dropping her off, then trying to sue the mall if something bad happens to her.

Well, duh, honey ... YOU took your child there. YOU allowed her access.

Now I am not lacking in sympathy for these parents. What happened was a horrible thing. I'm sorry it happened. But, people, the world is full of monsters.

You, as a mother, have to stand ready, weapon drawn, every single effin' second to defend your child from them! It's your JOB. It's your OBLIGATION.

It's time for parents to step up to the plate and say: "I made a mistake. It was my fault." As long as we keep telling ourselves that it's somebody else's fault, then that maintains the status quo of irresponsibility.

My child is fat because of Mc Donalds, my child failed a grade because of the schools, my child was assaulted because of MySpace, my child gunned down his classmates because of violent video games.

I just blogged about how we need to be confident and comfortable in our roles as mothers. How we shouldn't snipe at each other or belittle each other. We are the strongest, most powerful creatures on earth; we mothers. We produce and raise each generation of human beings.

But with great power comes great responsibility.

And we must be prepared to take responsibility for our own actions. They can make or break our children.

And they are doing so.


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*Go to Evil Genius Tees or Evil Genius Woman and use the drop-down menu on the left to search!

**Anna, you are NOT exempt!

Good mother / bad mother

The mommy wars end here.

You know I'm a huge proponent of the 'Your baby, Your rules' way of thinking.

I'm happy to bitch about parenting methods that result in child behaviour that directly affects me: out-of-control kids; sick-at-family-gatherings kids; rude, self-centered kids; etc; but I always maintain that it's a mother's business how she raises her children.

I don't approve of co-sleeping for my family(for random example), but I don't care if you co-sleep with your kids until they're in middle school. I will never, ever, tell you not to do it (unless you ask me what I'd do if it was me).

I do, however, reserve the right to roll my eyes and mutter if you whinge on about sleepless nights due to a toddler kicking you, or that your DH sleeps on the couch, or (fill-in-the-blank-due-to-co-sleeping).

Make sense?

Well, there are too many folks (and they throng to bulletin boards - my Babycenter boards are full of 'em) who take every sensitive subject as a personal affront to their parenting style. If you circumcise, then you must be a selfish, thoughtless, automoton subjecting your son to pain for no reason.

And they're happy to derail a thread to preach this message.

What promts these women to do this? Why the heck do they care?

I have a theory. They are so uncertain about their own choices and feel so guilty that they must attack those who are different; who parent differently. Like most dogs who bite, they do so out of fear. Fear that they, themselves, are not making the right parenting choice.

So they lash out at the rest of us. ("Burn! Burn the witch!")*

Well, it's time to end all this.

I am reasonably confident in my parenting ability. I'm not ashamed of my thrifty ways; that I wash Zip-lok bags, that almost all of my kids clothes come from the thrift store. I'm not embarrassed by my strictness; that I demand my kids behave, that I will correct a child in public. And no one else should be so affected by her mothering, either.

Because most of us are doing just fine. (CAUTION: parts of this are very disturbing to read.)

I think every mother should read this blog post (the one above, not mine, here, lol) and the whole madness of the Mommy Wars should just stop.

Rock on, mommies.

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*Yes, I inserted a Monty Python quote into such a serious post. What? No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!