Food is love. Part 2

1st, I want to thank you all for your prayers and words of encouragement. These last 2 weeks have been quite stressful, and knowing friends were lifting us to the Lord made all the difference. Ladybug had her weight recheck this morning. According to both our pediatrician and all I could find online/in books, a breastfed baby of Ladybug's age should be gaining 1/2 ounce a day. Some quick math told me that she would have had to be 9 lbs. 11 oz. to be on track for weight gain. I was a complete wreck this morning, my stomach in knots. We got the boys off to school, and tried to get on with our morning. Mr. P. fed the baby some mashed up banana mixed with my milk while I got a shower. I have to admit, it was nice to take a hot shower without a screaming baby in the background. For some reason, she always gets hungry as soon as I step under the spray. We got to the doctor's office a little late (par for the course for our family) and the nurse shepherded us into one of the exam rooms. After asking us what we've been doing for her weight issues, she had us strip Ladybug down and pop her on the scale. The moment of truth had arrived. I thought I'd puke. Our sweet baby girl weighed in at... ...9 lbs. 12 oz.!! Mr. P. and I fist bumped. The doctor said to just keep up with what we've been doing for her. And with that oh so sage advice, we left. I feel as though a literal weight has been lifted from my shoulders. It's been many years since I've been that scared and stressed out. I'd forgotten just how horrible it is to feel like the fate of your family rests on 1 little choice that could go wrong in a heartbeat. I'm glad that's over with. Again, thank you so much for your love and support. Ladybug thanks you too. Til next squeak,

Food is love.

The last 2 weeks have been quite trying around here, and after much thought and prayer, I've decided to share about how we've been doing. On 3/25, we had Ladybug's 4 month well-baby visit. Although I had thought she was healthy and otherwise fine, she was labeled as failure to thrive (FTT). She had gained only 10 ounces in 2 months' time. According to him, that was less than half of what she should've gained. The doctor ordered us to give her 2 ounces of formula at least twice a day in addition to nursing on demand. Upon hearing that dreaded "F" word (formula), I became pretty hysterical. I can admit that I didn't hear much of what the doc had to say after that. Thank God I had Mr. P. with me! Honestly, I praise God for him all the more during these last 2 weeks. He has had patience with me while I burst into tears every few hours, while I questioned every choice we made, while he literally held me up at Walmart when we bought bottles. I think it's safe to say that Mr. P. has had his fill of my tears for quite awhile. We spent that first weekend after Ladybug's diagnosis in a real panic. She utterly refused formula, no matter what we tried. A variety of bottles, droppers, syringes, cups and other infant feeding devices, and several brands of formula all ended with the same results. Her little face covered with formula she'd spat out, and tears of failure and self-loathing streaming down mine. The week began and we called our pediatrician's office. A return call from the nurse made things seem just that much more dire. We were slowly starving our daughter to death, and if we did not get formula or at the very least, rice cereal, into her, she would not survive. If I was freaking out before, now I was essentially not able to function for the fear coursing through me. Mr. P. and I decided to try following the advice of our mothers and some friends. We started Ladybug on solids. Some she likes (yogurt, sweet potatoes) and some she doesn't (carrots, rice cereal). While I am not terribly thrilled, our sons are beyond excited. They have each had a few turns feeding their baby sister. We have also stepped up the nursings. Currently, I offer the breast every 45 minutes. Some days, we nurse 18 times! My sheer panic has died down a bit, but I'm still struggling. It's so hard not to hate yourself for failing to provide all your baby needs. There is so much contradictory information out there about babies with FTT or slow gainers. I'm fearful of her weight check this Friday. If she hasn't gained enough to satisfy the doctor, what is the next step? Hospital admission? A DCF referral? No one will tell me, which of course makes the fear worse. Many have advised us to find a new pediatrician. It's something I am considering, but knowing me, I won't go through with it. Mr. P.'s family has used this practice for 3 generations now. I think my in-laws would utterly flip out if we switched. Our sons receive great care there. It's just hard in the first 2 years, especially if you breastfeed or are picky about vaccinations. The question becomes one of if we can live with going against our gut instincts? I'm not sure what the answer is. If you think of us this Friday, please pray for our family. Fear is not of God, and living in fear like this leaves me feeling distant from Him. Hopefully (prayerfully), this weight check will relieve this near constant panic over my daughter's well-being. His will be done. Til next squeak,

Through a mother's eyes.

If you're a mom and part of Facebook or any online forum for mothers, then you've probably at least heard in passing about the controversy surrounding pictures of nursing infants.

"Oh the obscenity!!"

I took this picture today while nursing Ladybug, who will be 4 months old this week.
As I learned before her birth with all my internet research, NIP (nursing in public) is quite controversial. Both in real life and online, NIP brings with it a whole host of issues. Cover or not? Nurse at the table when out to eat or hide away in the bathroom? Leave the house at all? Is it legally protected or subject to public indecency laws? Mom's right to breastfeed or baby's right to eat or the public's right to not be grossed out? That's just the tip of the iceberg!
There are Facebook groups, blog posts and carnivals, news articles, and forum debates about breastfeeding. The arguments go back and forth, and honestly? I don't think any one person is more right or more wrong than any other when it comes to all the different opinions on nursing mothers. I truly believe everyone is entitled to their own opinion, regardless of whether or not I agree with them.
When I see other moms nursing, yes, it makes me uncomfortable. I am embarrassed to admit it, but there it is. I personally choose to cover up when NIP because, as you can see, my boob is 3x the size of my daughter's head. For me, covering makes me less afraid of a confrontation with a belligerent or ignorant stranger.
Yet when I'm at home, I look down at my baby and see nothing but the love I have for her. I am often overwhelmed by how much stronger I am as a woman and mother because I am nursing her. We have overcome much on our journey. From a past riddled with sexual abuse and body image issues, to flat nipples and painfully broken/bloody skin, to oversupply and thrush, to paving the way as our family's first breastfeeder in this generation, Ladybug and I have shown ourselves to be strong women.
I guess I can now understand why women want to post pictures of themselves breastfeeding their kids. After all, in a formula saturated society (no pun intended), breastfeeding for any length of time is something to be proud of, and something to celebrate. It's not about making other moms feel bad. It's not about getting our jollies by showing off the goods. And it's not even about promoting breastfeeding. It's about seeing the world through a mother's eyes. It's about the love we have for our children and the pride we have in ourselves.


Til next squeak,

Confessions of a confused parent, Part 2

Now that Ladybug is nearly 4 months old, I thought I'd revisit my feelings on different parenting techniques.

---

I have become "that mom". You know her. The one you never really wanted to be but somehow find yourself walking in her shoes. The one you'd whisper about at the grocery store.
"See that chick over there? Look at her kids! I'd never raise my kids like that!"
Yup, I am her. Much to my chagrin.
In my previous post about my parenting choices, I really waffled about how things would be once our baby daughter arrived. I'm still waffling. Mommy guilt is a real...well, you know. It makes us doubt ourselves as not only mothers, but as women and wives as well. We do it to ourselves. We second guess, and we wallow in the guilt of not being whoever it is that we think we ought to be.
One day, I want to be able to say that I own my choices and am happy with them. I don't know when that day will come, if it ever does. I want to be able to hold my head up with pride and say, "Look at my kids. They're good kids. I've done well in raising them, and yes, done well by them with xyz parenting."
The unfortunate reality is that although there's not much I would currently change about how I parent my kids, I don't do any of it with purpose. I think we all know a few moms (maybe more than just a few) who follow their parenting techniques because they have researched out their options and can quote studies and statistics about why they parent the way they do. Not me. More than ever, I've just been trying to get by. Having a new baby in the house has changed everything. Not just my identity as a mom, but how I treat Mr. P. and how I parent our sons as well. I'm a different, though not nessecarily better, mother now.
Perhaps taking the time to study and look into all the various schools of thought will help me to be a more purposeful mom. Or maybe it will serve to only confuse me more. Either way, I think my kids will turn out all right, despite their confused mother.


Til next squeak,

Confessions of a confused parent

As Ladybug's birth approaches, I find myself in the completely unenviable position of having to re-evaluate my parenting practices. Urgh. Don't you wish you were me right about now?
Our boys were born when I was quite young, 20 and 22 respectively. The only thing Mr. P. and I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that we wanted for our parenting style was to do the polar opposite of our parents. That hasn't changed.
When MonkeyMan was on the way, we read up on pregnancy and birth...and that was about it. I don't think it crossed our minds that there were "theories" to parenting, or that how you choose to raise your kids will invariably slap a label on not only them but yourselves as well. Ah, innocent ignorance. We ended up parenting "instinctively", or as I prefer to describe it, we didn't have a clue. I realize many parents chose this consciously. We did not.
With both boys, we did what felt right and appropriate. We did not know that we were basically AP parents until a few years later. We co-slept. We "bottle nursed". We held our kids near constantly. We responded to every cry, and we did not CIO.
Then DCF arrived. It didn't take long for us to figure out that they wanted us to change not only our housekeeping ways but everything we felt good about in our parenting. Don't hold the baby, he's manipulating you. Don't carry your toddler, he needs to learn independence. Get a bigger apartment, sharing a room is abuse. You get the picture. We didn't know it at the time, but this is what most people call "mainstream parenting". (As a side note, a quick search will net you almost nothing helpful in defining a mainstream parent. Well, except that mainstream parents don't love their kids as much apparently. Food for thought- if being "mainstream" is going against the cultural norms for your area, does what defines "mainstream" change with location? For instance, if everyone in your area breastfeeds, would you be considered mainstream for doing so, and "alternative" for not?)
After DCF closed our case, we had a choice. Do we go back to parenting by instinct, or do we do "what's right" and keep up what we're doing? I can't speak for Mr. P. but I was scared out of my mind. If we went back to our old ways, that would guarantee a new case, wouldn't it? So we kept on with following the mainstream parenting techniques we'd learned from the state. After awhile, it didn't bother me anymore. After all, parenting school aged kids is very different than parenting infants and toddlers. Right?
Which bring me back to the beginning. I'm still scared out of my mind. I wish it could be as easy as some of my friends have said. "Just follow your instincts and you'll be fine!" But when your instincts have contributed to having lost your kids in the past, can you really trust them? I feel completely at a loss. The only thing I've really learned while researching my options is that DCF traumatized me far more than I ever realized. Will I be able to hold Ladybug for more than a few seconds without fearing a knock at the door for my babe in arms? What about naps, bedtime, feeding, trips out and about, and all the other aspects of daily life with a new baby? I just don't know.
Mr. P. seems pretty laid back about it all. He has said that we'll parent Ladybug just like we did with our boys. And part of me rejoices at that. How much easier would it be to stick with what you know? Then again, part of me quakes inside. How can I ensure that nurturing my baby won't bring DCF to my door once again? Living with fear is definitely not cool, nor is it a great way to decide the course of your family's life.
I also can't help but wonder if I should take a deeper look at how I raise my sons as well. Would making a switch for the whole family be a good thing, or asking for trouble? Should I give DCF a call to get answers, or would that be more or less like inviting them to reopen on us? My hope and prayer is that we can get this figured out before she is born. That, and praying DCF doesn't have some strange "AP parent sense" tingling right about now.

Til next squeak,

If you thought society was doing just fine...

You may just change your mind after reading this.

http://www.comcast.net/articles/news-world-europe/20081117/EU.Britain.New.Word/

Granted, I use "meh" quite a bit myself, and I'm one of those world class geeks who really does lolspeak BUT "meh" isn't worthy of dictionary status. C'mon people.
Kinda makes you wonder what we'll see in about 15 years time.

Til next squeak,

On thick-headedness

I've been thinking about this. How many people do you know who've had their kids put into foster care? If you're reading this blog, then right now, you know at least 1. How many parents do you know of who've had DCF/CPS called on them? How about an opened case?
Not many? Yeah, I didn't think so. Believe me, those of us who have gone through the wringer don't really talk about it. So...I've been thinking about it.
I don't know if your perceptions are like mine were, but when you think of a family who's gotten themselves enmeshed with the State, what do you think? Probably some ghetto family, maybe a single mom, seriously neglected kids at the least and some major issues with the parents. Now keep that image in your head. What about that same family, only after the case is closed? Now what's your image like? Kids still in foster care, Mom's rights terminated? Or maybe the family is still whole, but they've gone back to their old ways, proving this "lesson" hasn't taught them a thing?
Yeah, I used to be right there with ya.
Actually, after our own experiences, I could give you quite a few other hypothetical outcomes. But here's the thing. Not all families who've been through the system turn out like any of those scenarios.
Let me tell you about us. One thing we learned early on in our DCF experience was to claim your issues, and take responsibility. Yes, ma'am. It's not the state's fault you screwed up; it's not your mama or your daddy's fault; it's not because you didn't have everything in life you always wanted. Honey-child, it's YOUR FAULT. And if you can't admit that, claim it, and change it, well, you're gonna be spending a lot of time hollerin' at the wind. Speaking of which...
Another thing we learned was that no matter how fair or unfair, right or wrong, legal or illegal you may feel the Department's actions or rules are, well, they just ARE. You can take that to the bank. It's kinda like arguing with the wind. You can waste your time and energy screaming at it all you want. You can tell it to you won't be effected by it. But then again, you can't see it. You can't tell with any certainty whether it's coming at you from the north or south. You may think it'll come in a roar, but then it could always surprise you by whispering through your town. You just never know, and you can never truly control it.
Now if you are a thick headed kinda person (much like we are), it could go 1 of 3 ways. The 1st thing that could happen is that you don't learn those things I pointed out above. You spend the whole time trying to tell the state what to do, and ultimately, your kids are taken. After that? Well, Parent #1 is still ramming her thick head against the wall, screaming about how she was wronged and is gonna get her babies back...1 day. The 2nd thing that could happen is you could try to be thick headed with the state, eventually realize it's not getting you anywhere, "play them", and once they close out, go back to your old ways. How long do you think it'll be before Parent #2 gets another DCF/CPS case opened? Yeah, that's what I'm thinking too. Then the 3rd thing that could happen is you can take that thick headedness, channel it in productive ways against the state (the key here is the word productive), learn from your experience (ya thick headed doof) and make sure that once the case is closed, it never happens again.
I'm proud to say that we fall into the same category as Parent #3.
The one thing I've been really thinking on is that many people don't realize that there are Category 3 families out there. We do our best to make sure our kids are healthy, happy, and successful in school. We pray that God will give us the serenity to accept the things we can't change (like the DCF rules we will live by for the rest of our lives), the courage to change the things we can (like the situations that may have caused the case to be opened in the 1st place), and the wisdom to know the difference. (can you tell Mr. P. and I come from a long line of 12-steppers?)
All I'm saying is that when it comes us Category 3ers, give us a little grace. We're not calling you out on anything when we make comments about our parenting vs yours. Give us a little support. We still live each day in fear of that knock on the door. And give us your prayers. God knows us thick headed people need 'em.

Til next squeak,

File this under...

"People who probably shouldn't be famous but for some messed up reason...are."
What a file tab huh?
This post may offend readers, but probably not as much as Mr. P.'s post on the same topic. Although, if you're not easily offended by coarse language, it may give you a chuckle.
Let's have a little chat about famous people and how they got that way. Last night on TLC, the Duggar family's new series began. Mr. P. and I always have some pretty interesting conversations when it comes to 2 types of shows. Baby-related shows, and wife-swapping shows. So when I mentioned to him about clan Duggar's latest effort (take that how you will), he frothed at the mouth for a bit about how their fame is just as unwarranted as Paris Hilton's. And ironically, they're all famous for about the same reasons. Wait, Mr. P., surely you aren't equating this fine upstanding Christian family to a porno-filming, consequence-dodging, media whore? Oh yeah.
But his reasoning did make me think on this most of the night. What is it that makes people either love or hate the Duggars? Likewise, people either love or hate Paris. And really, how did these people get so famous?
With Paris, it doesn't take that much imagination to figure out the how's and why's of her fame. As Mr. P. put it, she got a record deal 'cause she knows how to blow. Not that that couldn't be said of other starlets, but let's try to stick to this particular piece of work. (BTW, anyone remember her stab at musical fame? Bwah. ~shudders~)
But then we have the Duggar family. I'll admit they are not the typical family, what with 17 kids and all. But, and this is a big but, they certainly are not the only large Quiverfull family out there. They're merely the one captured by the media most often. And if we're gonna go down that road, Mrs. Duggar doesn't even hold a childbirth record. So why the buzz over them? Is it the "J" names for the kids? Is it the throwback clothes and hair? Is it just shock and awe at the notion of a married couple never using birth control? Egads how irresponsible! I think it's a variety of those reasons. That, and people like to snoop in on others' lives. (After all, that's the meat and potatoes of reality tv. A chance to legally pry into someone else's life for an hour of so every week.)
I think I agree with Mr. P. to a point that the Duggars wouldn't have half of what they do if it weren't for their fame. Then again, their fame has also challenged people's notions of what a family is, should be, or could be. I know that it's been my friendships with QF mamas that has begun to change how I look at my own kids, and how I think of other people's families as well. I'm of a mind that a little tolerance goes a long way, and isn't a fresh outlook always a good thing?
So, maybe the truth is I'll be filing this all under "Things I haven't really figured out but will still blog about and hound Mr. P. about til that day I do clear the brain fog". Hey, that's even better tab! Let's go with that for now.

Til next squeak,

Just another day in the life...

Most mornings, I try to start out with a cuppa, and hit the computer while the kids are doing whatever it is that they do. Usually, that involves destruction, random acts of violence, and of course, the cartoons that encourage it all.
Today, while my coffee was brewing, I heard this coming from the living room:



Did you catch the line?
"He's got a super talking dog he takes every place who likes a cuppa joe and has a monkey face."
Yeah. All the while I'm hearing this, I've been head-banging in my kitchen. Until I got to that part.
"Hmmmm, do I have a monkeyface?", I thought. Because with my kids, inevitably, one of them will eventually make the connection between Dukey, constant cups of coffee , and me. Oh, let the parade of kid-comments begin!

Til next squeak,

That ol' memory lane

Recently, I was blessed to be able to visit a dear friend and her new daughter. Now, granted, as a mom of boys, I know next to nothing about raising a small thing covered in pink, but I'm betting the logistics are the same in those early days.
What a blessing that visit was! Between Tank recently turning 5 (and how did that happen without my permission?!?!) and my bouts of baby fever, it was alternately strange and sweet to hold her little one. Mr. P. came with me so that we could give her a hand in whatever she may have needed around the house, including a healthy dose of adult conversation. Seeing him cuddling with the baby started my heart down that famed road of remembrance I've heard so much about.
Nostalgia has never been my strong suit. There's been far too much in my life I've cared to forget, and not much I've wanted to preserve in my heart of hearts. The rare moment when I find myself swept away by a sweet memory, well, let's say that I find myself in one of 2 states. That would be either unable to cope or simply thanking God for giving me that moment, both past and present. (I say unable to cope because, alas, I am unequipped to handle the good things in life it often seems. A flashback of childhood abuse? Yeah I can cope effectively with that. A memory of holding my own children when they were smaller? Good Lord in Heaven above help me.)
It turned out that the Lord decided to save the strangest of personal revelations for last that day. In talking with my friend, answering questions about what was normal for babies at that stage, and giving her encouragement that the exhaustion and helpless feelings don't last forever (her baby is going through colic and that can be a very challenging thing, as many of us with older children know), a funny thing occurred to me. For the first time in my life, I felt like an adult. That may sound quite odd, but bear with me. For as long as I can remember, my parents drilled into my head that I would never "grow up". I would forever be immature, and a brat. Ok so they did not put it so nicely, but you see where this is going? I know that's why I look forward to my 30th birthday with such glee. Perhaps then, I'll finally have arrived to adulthood.
How weird and wonderful, that gift from both God and my friend, to feel "adult" and experienced but in a wholesome way in that moment. A taste of normalcy I rarely experience. And it just goes to show another of His blessings in the gift of children. Much healing has taken place in my life since I've become a mother. Being able to give my children a home that's pure of heart is maybe the greatest gift that those little boys have given me.
This little trip down memory lane has allowed me glimpse of the girl I once was. Broken, battered in spirit, and full of rage at the world. I've come a long way, only by the grace of God. The scars upon me are still quite red and vivid, but so much of that brokenness has been repaired by the simple gifts of this family of mine. I'm definitely a different woman than I was just a few months ago. I look forward to the woman God is molding me to be in coming years. I wonder just what I'll think of myself when I look back down that ol' memory lane a few years from now. Let's hope it's something good.

Til next squeak,

Choosing Right in a Fallen World

Normally when I blog, the title comes to me first. Typically, when I'm in the shower, after I've hollered at Smokey. (darn those inanimate objects!) By the time I've rinsed out the conditioner, most of the body of the post has formed in my mind, and I'm ready to blog.
Today though, I couldn't come up with my usual clever title. I have something on my mind I want to write about, but no title. Hmmm. It feels oh-so-strange to me, but here I am.
Because I'm a mother, I feel the burden of making the right choices, the *moral* choices. After all, little eyes are watching. However, most of the people around us don't bother to sense this burden, and my kidlets are not oblivious to this. And you know what? It's hard to come up with good answers to their questioning eyes sometimes. Lord knows I'm not prepared to have all the answers, or even a satisfactory one most times.
Case in point: Our building manager is constantly questioning why we have dirty laundry around most of the time when "everyone else doesn't". Uh, I can tell you why! We don't have a washer and dryer hidden in our unit like the majority of the people here. We've chosen not to break our lease. Now, trust me, it's not as though I'm coming from a place where I'm on a pedestal over this. It's more like I know we'd be the ones to get caught. Just like we were the ones who had to get rid of our cats when plenty of people here have cats or dogs.
Is it fair? Not especially. Is it life? Bet your bottom dollar. The real question is how do I explain to my children that not getting caught doesn't make a thing right, particularly when if I thought I could get away with it, I'd do it in a heartbeat?
Is it still "right" when you comply out of fear? Is it "right" when you comply out of pride? And is that what the Lord would have us do?
Ah, there's the rub for me. What would God want of me? I struggle with justifying my actions. I know God wants me to keep a clean house. I am, after all, a house wife. On the other hand, it would be just that much easier if I had that portable, yet lease-breaking, dishwasher. (washing dishes is the absolute bane of my existence!) So, God would want me to have that dishwasher, right? Right??
Yeah. Still waiting to hear from Him on that one. I think that falls under the category of "don't hold your breath honey". ;P
So, I'm still struggling with knowing how to choose "right" in our fallen world. I think most of us will at some point in our lives. It may be something as simple as washing a few dishes, or something major, like remaining faithful to your spouse. Who knows what things God will call us to "shine like stars in the universe" on? Hopefully, we won't let Him down when that time comes.

Til next squeak,

Hormones, husbands, and the Holy Spirit

I was the little girl who swore she'd never have kids. There were many reasons for that, including selfishness, pride, self-doubt, and my own parents' failures. Obviously, things didn't turn out that way. Thank God for that!
Even though I am the mother of 2, until fairly recently, I also swore I'd never have any more than just my 2. Last year became a trying time for me, emotionally and spiritually. After a lot of searching, praying, and work of the Holy Spirit, I'm a much different woman in many ways. I'm also a much different mother, or at least I'd like to think so.
One thing I'm now dealing with is that for the first time in my life, I have baby fever. My kiddos are growing up so fast, and don't need my care quite so much anymore. Mostly though, God has shown me what a true blessing family, particularly a larger than average family, really can be. He has done some mighty works in mine in recent months. I find myself longing to add another sweet little child to this home. When the boys and I pray over dinner, I can't help but imagine what it'd be like to hear another small voice joined with us in a few years time. Or when I'm out running errands, daydreaming what it would be like to have a baby with us as well.
Now Mr. P., not so much. Right now, he's mired in a lot of stress with his job, and with life in general. He does not want another child. I'm not sure if it's a "just for now" thing, or more of a "we're done" thing. He knows my heart, but also knows that I take my role as his wife seriously enough that I will abide by his wishes. Having said that, we still aren't using hormonal birth control, nor are really being as "careful" as he'd like. I practice natural family planning, and I guess that's where God will have His will be done for now.
I finally understand the hurt many women go through when their husbands say "No more babies". I never got that before. I admit that I always used to think they were just being whiny. Why not just be satisfied with what you've got? While I still don't understand the drive to be pregnant, per se, I now can sympathize. Personally, I've never liked being pregnant, but I love being a mother. Especially the stage my kids are at now. They just crack me up every day, and challenge me to see the world in a different light. I think that's why I want so badly to have a few more kids. Not so much for the pregnancy, or the baby stages, but for the fresh perspective on life, and the new joy given to me each day. What a gift to this wounded heart! I just hope and pray Mr. P. will let the Holy Spirit work on his heart as well.

Til next squeak,

Decisions, decisions...

~sigh~

I'm indecisive. Very. Indecisive. Always have been.

Earlier today, I was filling out all the forms for Tank's kindergarten registration. Wow, how time flies when you're buggin' out about other things! Included in the packet the school sent was the form to fill out if you want to withhold your child from a formal education until age 6. (for some odd reason that's an option here in CT) I really didn't think much of it except to stick it with the rest of the meaningless papers all piled up next to my love seat.
Until...

The boys' bath time just gets worse and worse. I'm beginning to realize that I need to either separate them for baths or stick 'em in the shower instead. Bleah. Today was no exception. When I went into the bathroom to yell *again* at them to calmdownstopsplashingstopdrinkingthedirtybathwaterwhyareyoupouringitoutonthefloor?!?!? ~breathe~ I had to ask (although I somehow regretting this) whether or not they could hear me hollering from my bedroom or if they were just blatantly ignoring me. My bedroom is directly across the hall from the bathroom, but I *did* have on the computer with music playing, so maybe they didn't hear. Right?
Wrong!
MonkeyMan pipes up in true fashion and says, "We were blatantly ignoring you, Mom."
Tank adds, "But that's only because we too busy splashing."
~sigh...count to 10...remember your happy place~
I'll freely admit I did not handle it as well as I should've. I made my kids cry. Someone pass the Worst Mom Award.

Back to the school thing.
Now I'm wondering if the homeschoolers might not have a point. My kids *can* be the sweetest, most respectful little kids...when they want to be. However, for the most part, they have been getting worse in the attitude department lately. I'm loathe to say that it's being in school that's done it to them. Just as much as I'm loathe to say that it's the TV watching I allow. But there are certain things that I as their mother am responsible for, and raising them not to be little smartass terrors is high on my to-do list. (sorry Mr. P. I know you would love for them to take after you. LOL)
The real question is could I handle it? I'm definitely NOT the world's most stable person. Nor am I the most loving. I'm probably the one who *shouldn't* be influencing the next generation. At least that's what I tell myself. With all my flaws, problems, and struggles, should I really consider taking on homeschooling? Even if it were only for as limited a time as one semester?
Then again, I am beginning to feel that it would teach the kids who's really in charge of this show. (yes, I know God is, but I meant under my roof as parental authority)
~sigh~
Decisions, decisions...


Til next squeak,