Monday, August 31, 2009

On Frogs and Other Things



This weekend my children were playing at the water table we have on the deck. Critter touched what he thought was a toy frog. He screamed (he is a ten-year-old who screams like a little girl) when the "toy" moved. It turned out to be a green tree frog. We looked it up on the internet, and it had not yet been documented in our county. Our county is the farthest north in Georgia in which the frog has been spotted. I think we parents were more excited about this than the kids.

Later on that night, Bubble Boy decided he did want to eat his chili after all. He sat at the table and started chowing down. Steve and I were watching t.v. in the adjacent living room. I looked over at the table, and Bubble Boy was gone. "Where's Bubble Boy?" I say. Steve says, "He must have gone back to bed." "Oh, O.K." We preceded to have sex right there in the living room, watch porn, cuss like truck drivers, get drunk, worship the devil... JUST KIDDING! I was still shocked to see him sleeping under the table. What if we were doing all those things? What if I left him there all night and creepy things crawled on him (there is always some kind of grub left under our table to which creepy things might be attracted)?
Don't ask me why he's wearing Halloween pajamas in August. Laundry is a challenge around here. He's lucky he's not wearing a Cinderella nightgown.
Maybe he just wanted to be first in line for breakfast in the morning. I think there's only one bowl of Captain Crunch left. Who knows when Mommy will break down and buy Cavity Crunch again!

Friday, August 28, 2009

A Few Green Thoughts

I was reading our local paper this morning. In the opinion section was a column from my school superintendent. He always writes thought-provoking pieces. This one is about environmental stewardship. Our county schools are stepping up to the plate for Mother Earth. Students have been recycling for a while, but efforts have improved along with a new initiative to reduce and resuse county wide. The superintendent asked, "How can we ... be better stewards of our environment?"
I wrote him a comment that follows. "Something small: kids should be encourgaged to reuse school supplies from year to year (backpacks, pencil boxes, pencils). How many people just throw perfectly good things away to start "fresh" each year?
Something tall: imagine the impact on the environment and kids' health if schools made use of sidewalks and crossing guards! It is ridiculous that kids who live across the street from a school have to ride the bus to get there!
Speaking of health: they may be good for the environment, but those cold-water-only faucets that turn off immediately are not good for kids' health. Kids don't want to wash their hands anyway, and these faucets require too much work! Plus the kids have to touch them several times (to keep turning the water back on)to get hands clean. Touching a faucet= touching germs. The cold water does not help fight germs as well, either. "

I do hate those faucets!

However, my family is blessed to have a successful and innovative school system that welcomes parental involvement. I love that the seed of environmental responsibility (which goes hand in hand with economic responsibility) is being planted in our community.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Family Guy

A couple of years ago I had a serious eye infection. This infection spurred a condition I have called recurrent corneal erosion. Yes, it is as painful as it sounds. Although my right eye was fine, if I used it it would cause me to move my left eye, which would be extremely painful. Therefore, most of the time I would have my eyes closed (except when I needed to open the Percocet bottle).

Why am I writing about this? Well, there is something that makes me think back to those days of almost blindness. That something is a show called Family Guy. Family Guy almost makes me look back with fondness on those days of eye patches and the inability to drive. At least back then I wouldn't have to see that crappy show.

My husband is an avid watcher of the Griffins and their shenanigans. If the show is on, he is watching it. This often means I have to send the kids to bed early (if you've ever seen it, you know why). He chooses the show over the kids most of the time. Ah, t.v. and family togetherness.

Tonight, I let my three-year-old stay up. He has been feeling lonely now that the older kids are in school. Steve was watching "Family Crap." I hoped most of the show would go over Bubble Boy's head, but he always knows when something is supposed to be funny, and he repeats it. Tonight he repeated, "Daddy, ha, ha, they said, 'when you die you are supposed to soil yourself!'"
Now he just needs to repeat that during his preschool interview.

Why don't I like it? #1: It is just not funny. The crudeness and politically incorrectness and anything else it exudes to be "shocking" doesn't bother me; it just isn't funny. #2: It is annoying. Why do I want to hear the kinds of things kids say in junior high? The pointless and weird tangents the show takes do not make it funny.

The only thing that puts a slightly amused smile on my face is Stewie, the evil baby. He is my comic relief while I am stuck listening to the show because I am trapped in the kitchen doing dishes. Stewie makes one wonder if all innocent looking babes are plotting the world's destruction and their mother's demise. Alas, unlike the show itself and its nightly marathons, all it takes to quiet Stewie is his binky.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Kindergarten Rant

Experts have discovered in recent years that preschoolers have more learning potential than previously thought. The good news concerning this is that preschool education has flourished and is taken more seriously. The bad news is that preschool education is taken more seriously.

Granted, my background is in secondary education, but as an educator, I believe preschool and kindergarten are probably the most important years in a student's learning career. Many times as a high school English teacher, I would lament,“if only this kid had had a good start." Preschool skills are built upon in kindergarten and so on. If these steps are missed or done poorly, it is noticeable all the way up to high school. Kids have a hard time climbing the educational ladder if rungs are missing. Let's switch metaphors now; preschool and kindergarten are the foundation. That being said, that doesn't mean those years should be treated as high- pressure academic years. One does not use the same tools to lay a foundation that one uses to put the roof on.

If a child is lucky enough to stay at home with a non-working parent who has a knack for "staying at home" (not all kids who stay at home are better off than kids in daycare- there are all kinds of parents and all kinds of daycare- but that is another discussion), then that child is in the optimal environment in my opinion. When that child is ready to start school, it makes sense to me, that it be a gradual process. A short week (two to four half-days) of preschool is a nice introduction to all that preschool should accomplish: social skills, independence from parents, school settings and rules, taking direction from other adults, pre-reading skills, pre-math skills, art, music, movement, and simple handwriting.

Then comes kindergarten. Ideally, in my opinion, this should be a small step up from preschool. Added to the above mentioned goals would be more handwriting, simple math, early reading. Should there be homework? NO WAY! The exception would be an activity the child would do with a parent every once in a while, such as complete a family tree. Should the child be at school all day? I say no. A full day is way too long for five-year-olds. I have my third kid in full-day kindergarten now, and we hate it again just like we did with the first child and the second child.

My third child comes home exhausted, and though he was so excited to start school that first day, he now doesn't want to go to school because "it takes too long." He doesn't even get a nap or a quiet time at school. I think a half-day is plenty of time for kindergarten's purpose. Yes, it is an important knowledge absorbing time for a kid. The kindergarten year should not be wasted, but it is not akin to an all-nighter before a college exam. Young kids learn differently- not through textbooks and worksheets so much- but through playing with a tub of worms or exploring a creek. These things can happen at home, too.

Half-days give parents more input into their young child's education. The same reason many give for staying home with their kids is still at play. Do you want your child to get most of his learning and caregiving from someone else? At this age, no. Eventually and gradually, OK.

Now, for the kid who has grown up in daycare: it would be silly for this kid to go from full days at daycare and preschool to half-days at kindergarten. For many, full-day kindergarten is better. Research has shown it to be beneficial to economically and socially disadvantaged kids as well. If enrichment can't happen at home, it should happen somewhere. If kids can't have the parent at home, then kindergarten full time is better than the alternative of an inferior daycare center, for example.

There are different types of family situations out there and different types of kids. That's why I wish all states would offer both full and half-day kindergarten. Plus, for crying out loud, make kindergarten and preschool mandatory (as long as it isn't all (full day) or nothing). Educational experts now know the learning power of the preschool brain, but let's not go overboard. In Georgia, preschool (the last year before kindergarten) is free. However, the four-year-olds must go to school everyday and all day. Preschool! This is all or nothing. It is not quality. It is basically the easiest thing for the school system to do but not the best thing to do. It does help kids who would be in daycare anyway, but it is not ideal for the children who are blessed with the ideal of a parent at home.

I have done limited research on this subject (research data is actually limited) I do not have a degree in early childhood education or development. I have only my gut and my experience as mother of five young children, plus my own childhood memories. How much farther could I have gone in life if I had had full-day kindergarten? Rather, how much farther could my children go with only half-days?

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Ambercutie's Birth Story


Ambercutie is our one and only girl. I'm glad she is a girlie-girl. How ironic would it be to have my only girl be a tomboy? She is the second oldest and came to be sort of by accident (almost all of our kids are sort of by accident). It depends on what you mean by "planning." Were we "planning" on having another kid? Yes. Did I want to become pregnant with that kid while my first was only eight months old and still nursing? No. I told myself I never wanted to do THAT again. Leech #1 (baby inside) gets fed first, then Leech #2 (baby outside) gets fed, then dear old mom is last. Talk about STARVING. I needed those Krispy Kremes in order to not feel hunger pains for about... two minutes. I really just wanted an IV line. I could wheel it around and feel the fat and calories course through my veins. I could also get the dishes done at the same time. It is so time consuming to eat constantly. Then there's the peeing and sleeping. How was I supposed to raise a toddler in the middle of the full time job that is pregnancy?

As it turns out, I love having kids a year and a half apart. They were into the same stuff (potty training, Barney, etc.). They were the best of friends until about first grade when Critter learned that girls are yucky.

I had much more nausea with the girl. I had vomiting even. With Critter, I had occasional nausea that went away with food. With "Amberpukie," I was sick all the time, food or not. Besides that delight, the pregnancy went well.

I was a week and a half overdue with my first, so I expected the same this time around (so naive). I was already overdue, when a novice nurse examined me and told me I was five centimeters dilated. Holy cow! I told my husband we were going to the hospital tonight. We called the grandparents. Woo hoo! That night, nothing. Next morning, nothing. We were scratching our heads. At my next week's appointment, my doctor examined me and told me I was three centimeters. She apologized for the error. I told her to give me the two centimeters back and all would be forgiven. She said, "you are a good candidate for induction." No thanks. I've been down the pitocin road, and it is NOT for me (a story for another time).

Anyhoo, I got to be two weeks overdue. What the heck was she doing in there? The little diva didn't want to come out until she had pretty long nails and curly hair? I thought, seriously, she has to come out eventually. As all preggos know, we say it, but we don't believe it.

As with my first pregnancy, I began having bad Braxton Hicks about two weeks before the birth. What I mean by bad is that these contractions are no different from real ones. I have had five babies, and I mean I can never tell when real labor begins! The only way I know is that the real contractions get so bad that I have to catch my breath. This false labor can go on all night and the contractions do get closer together, so I can't use "they go away" or "they don't get closer together" as guidelines. The "fake" contractions just don't take my breath away.

I had these fake contractions for several hours, and they were five minutes apart. We decided to head to the hospital, where it was determined I was five centimeters dilated (for real this time). As soon as we walked in the hospital door, the contractions stopped. What kind of cruel game? I expressed my laborly doubt to my nurse, but she said, "honey, you're having this baby tonight." I was admitted, but I felt no more pains. Hubby and I fell asleep and woke up the next morning babyless. The doc came in and said they could induce me or I could go home. I said, "See you later today." Being dilated to five, I knew it wouldn't be long. The nurses looked at me like I was a slime covered alien. What? Why would I want to sit around the hospital all day? Unless they can hook me up to a Krispy Kreme bag...

The next morning I woke up at about 5 AM to annoying pains. I went back to sleep and woke up again to these pesky pains knocking on my peaceful sleeping door. Something about "Wake up. It's time to push out a big fat Irish baby head." I got up, woke Steve up, called the grandparents, called my sister to come and watch Critter, grabbed the bags, and got in the car. The pain was still manageable when I called my ob, who didn't believe me when I was in labor with my first and didn't believe me this time. "Angel, you sound so calm for someone in labor." I'm sorry; I'm not a screamer. I save that for the tween years.

At the hospital, the ladies at the admittance counter looked at me skeptically. I'm sure they were whispering to each other that I'd be going back home in about an hour, because how can a woman supposedly already dilated to five, two weeks overdue, about to GIVE BIRTH stand there quietly like that? Does everyone have to be the stereotypical raving bitchy woman in labor? I like to keep things fresh. Mix it up a little bit.

The nurse told me I was seven centimeters. I told her to call my doctor. Where was my doctor? This was my second baby, and my first labor was quick. She asked me if I wanted an epidural. This time I looked at her like she was an alien covered in slime. I'm seven centimeters, lady. By the time you hook me up the kid will be crowning. I wasn't a fan of this nurse. She was staring at me during contractions, as if she were the zoologist and I was the gorilla rearing up the baby tiger as my own. No. 1, don't stare. No. 2, don't stare at a woman in labor. Did she have a death wish? Seriously, she was causing me to break my mental imagery. I was in Maui, and Critter was building a sandcastle; then this nurse comes over to our beach blanket and asks, "how do you do it?" Well, I'm going to be "doing it" all by myself if you don't get my doctor in here.

By this time, I was in transition. I was swaying my hips holding onto the table with the telephone on it. I focused on those black and white numbers until they swirled before my eyes. The pound sign was especially comforting (I don't know if that is a little Freudian violence?).

Soon, I told the nurse I was ready to push. She examined me and said I was nine and a half. "Almost there," she said. If I had the strength I would have pushed her. She went out into the hall to get the intern on call. Apparently, my doc was told I would be a while, so she went ahead with an elective surgery (tube tying) with another patient who had just given birth.

While the nurse was gone, I hopped up onto the bed and started pushing. To hell with nine and a half. I needed to push. The nurse and intern came in a few minutes later, all befuddled. The nurse said, "Well, I guess if you feel you need to push, go ahead." If my eyes weren't shut tight in pain, I may have rolled them. the teenager, I mean intern, started to examine me when he saw my daughter crowning. I swear, he literally just put his hands out like he was going to catch a football.

And so, Ambercutie, in diva fashion, decided that after making everyone wait for two weeks, she didn't want to wait another hour or so for the real doctor to bring her in the world. She wanted out now. Even if now meant she would be born in poo. Yes, meconium, people. That really freaks nurses out. Suction! That's what happens when you outrun your uterus lease, babies.

**I didn't have the episiotomy with her (not that there would have been time). The tear was small, and I could tell no difference in pain or healing time between the tear and the cut I had with my first labor.

Ambercutie: born October 9, 2000 at 9:46 AM (labor lasted about five hours)
8 pounds and 13 ounces, 21 inches long

Monday, August 10, 2009

Seed of Christine?

Add ImageI didn't like the Nissan Pathfinder the moment I saw it, but National Car Rental was all out of minivans and large SUVs. I shouldn't blame the vehicle, actually. The happenings I'm about to describe were mother nature's fault.

I don't recommend a Pathfinder for a family of seven. I couldn't even fit my stroller in the trunk, let alone our six pieces of luggage, five backpacks, baby backpack, laptop, and cooler. After an uncomfortable, but thankfully brief, ride to Walmart, we purchased some bungee cords and put most of the stuff on top. It would then go on to rain several times during our vacation.

We took up every inch of the vehicle. There was no room to climb in the back to buckle kids in or settle Leapster disputes. I told everyone to pretend we were on safari. The vehicle had no shocks, apparently, so this was easy to pretend.

If someone rolled a window down while all the others were rolled up, a hideous noise similar to a flat tire's thumping (magnified 10 times) would enter the vehicle. Many times I thought for sure we had a flat (which is a fun thing to get in the middle of nowhere).

We were in the Rocky Mountains, so it was fitting that a rock flew up and dinged our windshield. There were already two dings in it prior to our renting it, so we weren't that concerned. Then the ding turned into a bigger ding, and then a inch-long crack in a matter of minutes. Every minute it grew another inch. We were in Grand Lake, Colorado, just south or Rocky Mountain National Park. We pulled over as soon as we got cell phone reception and called the rental company.

The agent told us to return the car to Denver and trade it in for another one. While I would love to get rid of this sardine can, Denver was two hours away, and we had been driving all day. We had five hungry, tired kids in the back who were ready to scarf down pizza and jump in the hotel pool. We were going to be driving through Denver in four days, so we decided to trade it in then. That was settled, but we still needed to file a claim with our insurance company. We found out we would be basically paying out of pocket because the damage didn't meet our deductible. OK, at this point the windshield can still be repaired, we thought, so it wouldn't be that much.

We started driving again, and the crack started growing again. As soon as we entered the park, the wind picked up and blew branches from a beetle-addled dying pine tree onto our window. Great- probably helped the crack along. We then entered a hail storm. Fabulous. What else? An elk want to charge the windshield with his antlers?

After all that drama, we had about a ten-inch crack in the windshield. It would have to be replaced for sure, now. Ah well, at least no one ended up in the hospital on this vacation (I think this was our first vacation in which no one "toured" the local hospital). Better the car instead of one of us with a ten-inch crack in the head (that may or may not have been threatened to the pinching heathens in the backseat).

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Growing up Grandly








































My little boy is growing up. He hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon with his Daddy on our vacation last week. They stayed at Phantom Ranch at the bottom and, after a $50 breakfast, hiked back up. When the food has to be taken down by mule, it's gonna cost ya.

They took all their food except the breakfast. They had their handy dandy backpacks with built-in water pouches. At ten, he's a bona fide hiker.

Now, fifth grade starts Monday. Next year it's middle school! I am not one of those moms who celebrate the start of the school year. Instead, I start weighing the merits of homeschooling (still afraid that might end in bloodshed). Still, I don't want to see him go!

He made it through the canyon without me. Next he may climb some peaks with Dad. I'm sure he'll do fine then too. He doesn't need Mommy for everything anymore. Fifth grade is no different, but it's all bittersweet to me. I don't want to watch him hike into the canyon without me; I am still proud of him when he does.