A Little Joy

This morning I had one of those rare quiet moments of joy.  My baby, who is now four years old, quietly crept into our bed at 5 am.  Unlike any of our other kids who, when they would come in the early hours of morning, would never go back to sleep, this one does. He usually is up because he needs to use the restroom but then he gets back in bed and goes peacefully back to sleep.  When it's early morning time like that, if I try to put him back in his own bed, he usually doesn't go back to sleep and gets up for the day, walking others up in the process.  So I let him snuggle up to me. 

He was so sweet, lying there, right up next to me. He was completely asleep, but he had laid his hand on my arm before drifting back and told me, "I love you, Mom." My heart was just bursting with joy and I just wanted to hug him fiercely but I didn't because I didn't want to wake him up. I drifted back to sleep also.

This little boy came at a time I wasn't ready for him. I didn't want to have more kids and was a little angry about the whole situation.  But even I, the one who struggles with belief in God's influence in my life, can admit that I think God knew I would need him.  He is such a calm, sweet spirit, always showing me love with hugs and kisses and whispering it to me.  He is reminding me about the joy of little ones in his excitement over the littlest things, like getting a snack he really likes.  I needed this in my life right now and I'm thankful for it.

Loving Our Babies

I just love this squishy little guy.  I admit, I had a hard time during my pregnancy with the idea that I was having another child.  I love my children and I knew I would love this baby too, but I really didn't want any more kids because I was already feeling quite overwhelmed with the six I had plus my sixth is a major handful and there are many, many days that I wish I could put her in a strait jacket.

But this chunk of chubbiness has absolutely stolen my heart (for the seventh time).  He is just such a sweet baby.  He's happy almost all the time and so fascinated by the world around him.  He loves his Spider-man and several other toys to the point that when we show him the toy, he gets excited and laughs and waves his hands around.  I absolutely love listening to the older kids making him laugh--it has to be one of my most favorite sounds in the world.

With this baby, I have done a lot of thinking.  It seems these days that hardly a day goes by without some news story popping up on my social media feed about some parent or step-parent or boyfriend of a mom abusing some baby or toddler.  These stories break my heart and make me feel both sad and angry at the same time. 

There are times when my little one won't stop crying and fussing.  He's sick or tired or hungry or bored or all of the above.  He wants my undivided attention, which is often hard to give him with all the chaos in our house.  There are times that his cries are maddening to listen to, but then when I pick him up to see what he might need, he instantly calms.  His chubby little hands grip my arm or my neck or my face and he pulls me close and gives me a slobbery tongue kiss (yes, that's what I call it because he sticks his tongue out, but I'm pretty certain he's trying to kiss us). 

He relies on us for EVERYTHING.  These little ones come to us not even able to hold up their own heads or control their own bodies.  Unlike other animals in the animal kingdom, human babies are completely reliant on their parents to take care of them.  They have to be held, fed, and changed.  They have to have social interaction to learn social cues and develop an understanding of human emotions and behavior.  Other animals can find their own food, walk on their own, and aren't as reliant on the parent for as long when they are babies.  But human babies take a year or more to learn to walk, months to hold up their heads, roll around, scoot and crawl.  Even grasping small items takes months and feeding themselves can take more than a year, sometimes two.

Why do you suppose that these little humans come to us with such neediness?  I have always believed (ever since I took a child development class in college) that human babies come to us this way to force us to love them and care for them and learn to serve them.  If they came to us already doing all those things, we could easily let them fend for themselves, but because they rely on us for everything, we are forced to take care of them. 

Every time I start to feel annoyed or anxious because I don't know why my baby is fussing, I try to remember that he just needs me.  There will be a time he won't need me as much but right now, I can hold him in my rocking chair during the night if he has an upset tummy and let him sleep on my shoulder.  I can snuggle with him instead of washing the dishes because he needs me right then.  He needs a diaper change, a bottle, or just to be held and played with, so it's my job as his parent to provide that for him.  When I chose to have a child, I chose to be his caretaker and provider and make sure that he has what he needs from me.  Heavenly Father intended it to be this way.  It's all part of His plan.

And who can resist?  Look at those chubby cheeks and fat little hands!

Chore Workshop

A few weeks ago, I noticed that my children had really started slacking off on their chores.  What does a manager or boss do when their employees start slacking off?  They retrain!  So I thought it would be a good idea to hold a chore workshop to retrain the kids on how to do the chores correctly for a job well done.

I  have written about my chore system before.  Since then, I have added a child to the system and adjusted the chores so that the "laundry/garbage" chore is now divided into "laundry" and "garbage".  I also no longer do tokens for earning video game minutes.  I will briefly summarize.  We rotate through the chores on a weekly basis.  Each regular weekly chore has a Saturday chore, which is more difficult and involved, attached to it.  It was mostly the Saturday chores that the kids were slacking on, but while we were retraining them, we touched briefly on the weekly job as well.

A few years ago, I printed out checklists for each chore, including regular weekday chores and Saturday chores.  I laminated them and bought several Vis-a-vis markers to use on the charts.  Here is an example of one of the charts:

For our chore workshop, which really sounds more involved than it was, we divided up who was teaching what.  My husband is very particular about  how the sweeping and mopping gets done for the table setter's Saturday chore, so he took that chore.  Since the other part of the downstairs involves sweeping and swiffering, he took that one too (see above picture).  Another Saturday chore is vacuuming, and he took that one as well.  I trained on bathroom cleaning and "dog duty", which involves picking up the poop in the backyard, and they didn't need retraining on that, and dusting the whole house, including the wooden part of the stairs, which holds the banister.

We got started bright and early--7 am.  Our plan was to finish by 9 am and eat donuts.  I started by training the kids on the downstairs bathroom.  All of our bathrooms are full bathrooms and require the same procedure, except our master bathroom has a big jetted tub and shower that are separate and the other two bathrooms have the shower/tub combination.  I will probably still have to review our bathroom with each kid just because there is a little more work involved.  They all stood in the bathroom doorway (the five older kids, Dad hung out with the younger two) and watched while I explained step-by-step, asking questions and checking for understanding.  I  had some of them do some of the steps too.  It took about 20 minutes.  We also pointed out the time and reminded them that if it takes twenty minutes per bathroom (and that was with me stopping and explaining things), then it should take them about 1 hour to do all three bathrooms.

After finishing with the downstairs bathroom, I reviewed dusting with them, showing them what needed to be dusted in all of the rooms.  Then my husband took over and had them pick up toys and clutter off the floors so he could sweep, mop, swiffer and vacuum.  He then showed them what those chores entailed.  After we were done with our demonstrations, some of the kids had parts of their chores left, like the other two bathrooms needed finishing and rugs, chairs, and other items needed to be put back into place.

We also reviewed the steps for Saturday room cleaning and daily room cleaning, for which I also have charts hanging in each of their rooms.  Here is that chart:

This week we sat down and had breakfast before doing our chores.  As we ate breakfast, I reminded them each of what their chore was and pulled out the charts to review.  I will probably make a pocket of some sort to keep the Saturday chore lists on a wall somewhere so that all they have to do on Saturday is go pull their chore and follow the checklist.  The bathroom checklist stays with the bathroom cleaning supplies  in the carrier.  The room cleaning and bed making lists are hanging on their doors.

One nice thing about this was that I was able to see what revisions I needed to make that were unique to this house or that I've added or done away with for each chore.  So in the coming week I am planning to edit the ones that need changing and print and laminate the updated charts.

I feel that teaching and training our children this way sets clear expectations and prepares them for when they have a job outside the house.  I feel that teaching children how to work and working with them is an important part of childhood that often gets overlooked and even frowned upon in our modern culture.  But my kids really rose to the challenge and did an excellent job on their chores this week.  I even went grocery shopping with the younger two while the other five were working on chores and came home to a mostly clean house, with a few exceptions.  It was fantastic!  And my kids felt so great about their accomplishments.

Ten Things I'd Rather Be Doing Than Breastfeeding

I know, I know.  Just the title sends a horribly selfish vibe.  Yes, I suppose there is quite a bit of selfishness in the choice I have made the last six babies and will for this surprise number seven when it comes to breastfeeding.  With my first who was born early and spent two weeks in the NICU, I spent hours pumping and feeding him bottles while he learned to suck.  I then nursed him, but every feeding lasted about 45 minutes PER SIDE and then I still  had to give him a bottle for him to seem content and not hungry.  So after four months of doing that and pumping, I quit.  I just couldn't do it anymore.  It was way too stressful and gave me a lot of anxiety that left me with an upset stomach constantly.

With number two, he learned a lot faster and things went more smoothly, but by four months, again, I was nursing him from each side about 45 minutes and still having to give a bottle for him to seem content.  For him, it was a formula bottle, rather than pumped milk as with my first (whose pumped milk lasted another two months--so technically he got breastmilk through month six, the first did).  After one really long weekend where he wouldn't sleep at all and screamed and screamed and I was about ready to do something horrible to him, I decided that I needed to just give formula and allow my husband to take turns feeding him.  I was much calmer and happier after that. 

With number three, I tried again but only made it two months.  With number four, same thing.  With number five, I made it six weeks and then when number six came around, I still nursed her in the hospital to give her that good colostrum and tried for the first few weeks, but my heart was no longer in it.  I knew that it was a hugely stressful thing for me.  Plus, I don't know how other moms can just sit and pop a baby on and off, no big deal. I have to have about four pillows stacked all around me for comfort, so getting ready to breastfeed is a major project for me, and to have to do that every 1-2 hours for more than an hour at a time makes it a highly unpleasant experience for me.  I hate having huge achy breasts, I hate the feel of the baby suckling my nipple, and I just don't have the patience it takes to sit there for long hours without knowing if the baby is getting enough. 

I am grateful that modern science has provided an option in the form of formula and while I'm intelligent enough to understand completely that formula does not come close to replicating breastmilk and the amazing thing that it is, I still appreciate that it's there. 

As I'm coming up on the birth of surprise baby number seven, I am recognizing the massive anxiety and panic I am feeling over having to consider this choice all over again, as I thought I had left that in the past with number six and had finally gotten over the guilt of my breastfeeding-loathing.  Part of me doesn't even want to bother with it at all, just give him formula right from the start and forget about breastfeeding entirely, but I still feel guilt over this feeling of mine.  I will probably try again, knowing full well it's something I really hate to do.  So, as I was showering the other morning and thinking about the possibility of giving birth anytime now and realizing that the choice is upon me, I started thinking of all the things I'd rather do than breastfeed.

Keep in mind, these are things I really don't like to do.  Here it is:

#10.  Perform any type of car repair.
I know I'm capable of repairing certain parts of cars, like changing the oil.  I even replaced the light bulb in one of the front headlights of my husband's car for a Christmas gift to him, to save us $100+ on having a shop do it.  It was time-consuming and gave me anxiety, but I did it.  I didn't enjoy it,  but I'm glad to say I did it.  But I don't like trying to fix cars and even watching car repair videos on Youtube to see how something is done gives me anxiety.  But if I had to choose between sitting and breastfeeding a baby or changing that oil, I'd want to change the oil.

#9.  Cleaning up dog vomit.
This is something that since we've had a dog, I have had a hard time stomaching.  I have done it many times, but if the dog ever throws up when my husband is home, I make him do it because I can't stomach it very well.  It usually makes me heave and sometimes even throw up myself.  But I'd rather do that than have to sit and breastfeed.

#8.  Fly to Japan (or anywhere that keeps me on a plane for so long over water).
I haven't flown all that much in my life, and every time I do, I get nervous.  But the two times I flew over water, I majorly panicked.  It was really scary to me.  But I'd rather make that trip than have to breastfeed.

#7.  Plan and execute a social event.
Wow.  Planning any type of social event, even a birthday party for my kids, is not my forte.  I do not feel comfortable doing anything like that. I usually encourage my kids to choose a fun family activity, like bowling, rather than have a birthday party.  Planning social gatherings for adults is even more out of my comfort zone. I recently attended a cub scout banquet and was in awe at how well it was put together, with the food and the decorations and the activities.  Nothing my poor brain could have come up with or executed, especially the decorating part.  But if I had to choose between doing that and breastfeeding, I'd rather do that.

#6.  Go to the dentist.
Like most people, I do not like going to the dentist.  I don't like it for probably different reasons, though.  I don't like that there is a chance I may have a cavity, which means money will be spent to fix it.  I also don't like the sound of the scraping of my teeth.  It's a horrible sound, akin to fingernails on a blackboard, and there is no way to tune it out because it reverberates in my head, so even earplugs wouldn't work.  But I'd take that horrible, miserable 30 minutes over breastfeeding any day.

#5.  Eat brussel sprouts.
Even the smell of brussel sprouts give me the dry heaves.  The thought of how they taste just makes me feel sick.  But I'd rather eat a serving of them than sit and breastfeed a baby for one session.

#4.  Run a marathon.
I know there are a lot of people for whom running is a great escape and fills them with vigor and excitement.  I am not one of those people.  Ever since I was a little girl and was a gymnast, I struggled with the lung capacity to really run.  I hate running.  It is one type of exercise I just do not ever do.  But I would rather do that than have to sit and breastfeed a baby.

#3.  Make a phone call.
If you know me, you know now nervous this makes me.  Even when something important is on the line, I will postpone phone calls until I no longer can.  Or, if possible, I will go talk to that person IN PERSON over making a phone call.  Like taking care of a bill at a dentist office recently, I took the time to drive over there with my two little kids and sit with the insurance manager to go over it, which was definitely something that could have been done by phone.  I just am uncomfortable making phone calls.  But if making that phone call would get me out of breastfeeding, I'd do it.

#2.  Speak at an all-male convention.
Generally, I don't mind speaking.  In fact, I'd rather give a talk in church than have to make phone calls for a church calling.  But speaking in front of men makes me nervous.  I've never had any bad experiences around men, but I just prefer to talk to women over men.  In fact, I choose my kids' pediatrician and my other doctors from an all-female list because I know I will be more likely to ask questions and talk about any problems with a female than with a male.  Speaking in front of just men would terrify me.  But I'd rather do that than breastfeed, if that were the choice given.

#1.  Clean bathrooms or any other unpleasant household chore.
I would much rather do housework than sit and nurse my babies.  I don't mind bottle feeding them and then getting to work, but trying to breastfeed took so much time and effort that I was never able to get anything done.  So if I had to choose to breastfeed or clean the bathrooms, I'd rather clean the bathrooms.

Okay, I realize this earns me the "worst mom of the world" award and people can now start their mudslinging and symbolic stone-throwing.  I get so tired of reading articles and blogs that talk about how wonderful breastfeeding is and how essential it is to that mom-baby bond, but that there are medical exceptions.  However, in my opinion, the reasons don't really matter.  If a mom doesn't like to breastfeed and would rather pay hundreds of dollars every month to formula feed, she should have that right without being ostracized.  If she really tries hard to do it and just can't get it to work right no matter what she does and feels incredible guilt over it, she should be able to formula feed without being ostracized.

Besides, I never once was asked whether I breastfed or formula fed once my kids were past age one.  Even when we moved more than once and got new doctors, if the kid was over one, the question of whether I breastfed that child or not wasn't even asked.  It wasn't asked when they started school, it wasn't asked when they took IQ exams or gifted exams, never.  So far, my kids are pretty healthy and happy and well rounded.  Oh, and the bonding thing?  My six kids all seem to think the world of me (so far--we are getting into the teen years with the oldest, so we'll see, but so far, he still tells me I'm a great mom).  I guess I managed to bond with them after all, even though I didn't breastfeed for an entire year with any of them.  Somehow, we managed to bond and have healthy, happy kids without exclusively breastfeeding any of them, and only doing the bare minimum with a few of them.

That said, I will support any other mom's choice to breastfeed.  Just because I don't like it and can't do it very well doesn't mean I'm opposed to it and am all "formula is the way to go!"  I do wish I enjoyed it and that I wanted to do it and that I had been successful at it, but I'm not going to waste time and energy feeling bad about it when there is another option out there that, based on my life experience with my own children, has been a successful way to feed a baby. 

So there.  I said it.  I will not be breastfeeding beyond the first few weeks with this baby.  Not because I can't, but because I choose not to.  I don't like it and am a happier mom when I don't do it or spend hours trying in vain to do it.  Yes, it's hard, and I'm not willing to sacrifice whatever it will take to make it work.  I suppose I'm selfish for that, but I'd rather be happy and a little selfish than angry all the time because I'm breastfeeding.

Need Someone To Talk To? There is One Who is Always There...

Friday night was a rough night.  My husband was working the night shift (which goes from around 4 p.m. to about 2:30 a.m.) and I had a rough time getting the kids to bed.  My oldest child, age eleven, was out with a friend (he had been invited to go with that friend for his birthday to an amusement park).  My ten-year-old, who is the second oldest, had been a big help that evening.  He had cleaned up the dinner dishes, helped the seven-year-old with her weekly chore of picking up the dog poop in the backyard, had changed the poopy diaper of the two-year-old and helped the four-year-old with going to the bathroom before bed all while I was attending to other children and problems.  After the younger kids, ages eight and under, were in bed, I was rewarding the ten-year-old with a turn playing Minecraft on my Kindle Fire and having a bowl of ice cream when the eleven-year-old walked in.

He eagerly began to tell me about his day at the amusement park and then he saw the ice cream and asked for a bowl.  Now, I had just given the last of the carton to the ten-year-old, so I explained that his brother had been such a huge help to me that night and was being rewarded for his efforts.  This sent the eleven-year-old into a preteen tantrum about how unfair life is and how he never gets anything he wants (hmmm...he just spent the entire day at the amusement park and I had even checked him out of school early to go).  He thundered up the stairs, grumbled as he took his shower and grumbled as he went to bed.  The ten-year-old finished his treat and turn on the device and went to bed.  I then went and took a bath, feeling quite disgruntled.

I sat in the tub, mulling over how things could have gone differently.  This oldest child of mine is a whirlwind of emotion.  I'd like to say that it's because of the preteen hormones and all that, but he's always been like this.  We have never been ones to give in to whims or bombard our kids with all sorts of unnecessary but fun activities and toys (they have to earn their time on the Kindle Fire, for example, and we only have the one device, the Kindle Fire, which I got for Christmas just this last year).  I don't know where this spoiled sense of entitlement comes from.  I was frustrated and alone, since Husband was at work.  I couldn't even call him to vent because he just doesn't have the kind of job where you can call unless it's really urgent.  My mom wasn't answering her phone and it was too late to call most everyone else.  I just needed to talk to someone about my frustrations with this child!

Then it hit me.  I needed to pray.  Heavenly Father is always available when I need someone to talk to and it was just what was needed.  As I voiced my frustration and prayed for understanding and the ability to communicate and teach this child, I felt my resentment and anger towards him melt away.  Not only was I able to refill my spiritual cup, which I desperately needed, but I was able to have my heart softened toward my child and I felt like I could still reach him, whereas before, I just felt a sense of utter and total failure. 

I need to remember this, that my Heavenly Father is always available to listen and often, the best choice in someone to vent my frustrations to and seek an ally.  I still talked to my husband when he got home from work around 3 a.m. and told him what had happened and how I handled it.  I also told him about my inspiration to pray and he agreed that we should both pray more often for help with our kids.  After all, Heavenly Father knows our child better than we do and sometimes just putting it all out there in His hands helps us think through how best to approach a situation. 

Prayer is such a beautiful gift that we have, a way to communicate with one who truly knows and loves us. 

Compassion in Our Modern World

Let me tell you a story.  On a warm summer morning, my husband was home from work, so I left the older kids with him to clean the house and the backyard and I took my baby with me on my errands.  I had to go to Costco, which was clear across town, the bank, and then stop at the grocery store on the way home.  We went to Costco first because I like to get my errands done in the order of the farthest distance from my house to the closest.  Then I hit the bank drive through, so we stayed in the car.  During this time, from Costco to the grocery store, my baby was quiet.  I was distractedly thinking about the other cars around  me (crazy that I was paying attention to the traffic, eh?) and thinking about other random things and not thinking about my kids or my husband.  Therefore, when I got to the grocery store, and my baby was asleep in her rear-facing car seat, I had forgotten that I had her with me on my errands.  My other kids weren't there to remind me to open the back doors of the car, and absent-mindedly and focused on my grocery shopping, I got out of my car and headed toward the store doors.  I was checking for my keys, my phone, my wallet, like I tend to do as I walk to the store and felt something was missing and then I remembered--my daughter!  So I went back to the car and got her out and took her in the store with me.  Phew!

This type of thing happens all the time.  It may not be a grocery trip or errand run.  It may be switching parents to drop the baby off at daycare or bringing groceries home and the baby is asleep so you let her sleep while you carry them in, but when you bring the last load in, you forget to go back out to the car to get the sleeping baby.  There are so many different ways this can happen.

Not only that, but there are other instances in which parents do things that might result in harm to their precious children.  For instance, maybe they put a video in to watch with their little ones and doze off because they are exhausted and they wake up to discover their toddler has gotten out of the house and gone into the road, or the ditch, or gotten tangled in a soccer net in the backyard.  Maybe Dad goes out to hitch up the trailer and Mom gets busy putting things away in the 4-year-old's room and doesn't realize Dad left the front door cracked and the 18-month-old has gotten outside to follow Dad and Dad doesn't know she's there and he backs the trailer over her.  Maybe Mom is nursing the new baby in the nursery and the older 2-year-old has climbed out of her crib for the very first time and up onto the dresser next to the crib in the upstairs bedroom and sees an open window and goes to look, pushes on the screen and falls two stories to her death.  Maybe you are visiting the grandparents, who have a pool, and are usually very careful about leaving the pool area locked and the outside doors locked, but your 3-year-old has figured out how to unlock the door and finds the pool gate open, so goes in, accidentally throws a ball in the pool, and then goes in after it.

All of these scenarios are real instances when parents that I have read about or even knew personally have done something, made either an error in judgment or a simple human error, a mistake, a forgotten check, and it has resulted in inexplicable tragedy.

Every single day, millions of parents put their little ones in harm's way when we strap them into our cars and take off down the road.  Sure, car seats have helped reduce the deaths, especially if the child is properly strapped in, but there are still accidents where children who are properly strapped into a car seat die.  Does that mean that every parent who puts their child into a car seat and drives away in the car should be charged with abuse or neglect or assault or whatever?  There is risk in everything we do and sometimes we don't even remember to do or not do something that results in a risky outcome.

That's why I am really tired of the way these parents are received by society when their story, their life-changing tragedy, their despair and grief, becomes news.

We say, "I would never do such a thing!"  "My children are my life and anybody who lets this happen to their child shouldn't have had children!"  "What kind of idiots are these people to let this happen to their child!  It would never happen to my child!"

The news story gets posted on a news website and then social media takes over, spreading it around the globe like wildfire with the purpose of stoning the parents or caregivers of the child who was lost, calling for nothing short of a murder charge and the death penalty.

It especially makes my heart ache when this happens in communities with a highly religious population, religion that is supposed to teach love and compassion.

Yes, there are a few parents out there who are really neglectful, who treat their offspring as garbage, and even purposely cause them harm.  But those are not the parents I am talking about.  I am talking about the pediatrician who forgot she was taking her baby to daycare and left her in the sweltering car all day.  I'm talking about the doting mother who fell asleep watching a movie with her little ones and her toddler went in the backyard and was strangled in a soccer net.  I'm talking about the loving father who didn't know his 1-year-old had followed him outside while he hitched up the trailer and he accidentally backed over her while moving it.

These parents are suffering the worst kind of grief and guilt imaginable, and rather than reaching out to help console them in their suffering, we throw stones and call for crucifixion of them.  We are no better than the Puritan society of "The Scarlet Letter" or the witch-burning tribunals of Salem.

The Gospel of Jesus Christ teaches that we should "Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep." (Romans 12:15)  In the Book of Mormon, we are taught that to be called the people of God, we must be willing to "bear one another's burdens...and to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort." (Mosiah 18:8-9) In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, "Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted." (Matthew 5:4)

Whether or not a person is a Christian doesn't matter.  Yes, those are tenets of Christianity, but I would care to wager that other faiths teach compassion and love also.

Compassion (n) as defined by my 9-year-old's school dictionary is "sympathy for suffering, kindness."  This is something that many people simply lack in our modern society that is so focused on "me" and doing everything with self in mind.

We all need to be more compassionate.  Is there a time and place to punish those who do inflict intentional harm on their children?  Of course.  Are some instances of accidental harm also punishable?  Probably.  But I don't think we should be so quick to stone others for these types of mistakes.  Accidents do happen.  Every single one of us is capable of leaving a child in a car or being unaware while our child wanders out of the house.  Every. Single. One.

I am tired of so much judging and casting of stones.  I think we would all do better to support each other and comfort each other.  It doesn't happen often enough.  Yes, there are times when the news picks up a story of real love, compassion and comfort, but in the public eye, it isn't seen often enough.  Especially on threads of news stories about parents making fatal errors.  Please, people, let's try and be more compassionate and more loving.  If there was more compassion in this world, think of what a better place it would be!

Bittersweet

My oldest child turned eleven two months ago and my youngest has been one for four months.  Eight more months, which will fly right by, and she will be two years old, no longer really a baby.  I remember my oldest when he was this age.  Of course, I was expecting his brother already, due in a few months (they are seventeen months apart).  With each little step my little one makes in her development, I think back to when her older siblings hit those milestones.  She just figured out how to climb onto the kitchen chairs.  Next will be the crib.  One of her brothers climbed out of the crib at sixteen months.  She is fifteen months, almost sixteen months.  She is so quickly moving away from the baby stage.  And it makes me sad.

But I am also happy to watch my kids grow up.  It's wonderful watching them develop into who they will become.  I love that my oldest child is a fantastic artist who can whip out amazing drawings at request.  He is also able to play the piano by ear, which then he will figure out the music for his trumpet also.  He has even written some of his own music.  I love that my second oldest can fold any paper into any shape or design you want him to.  My third child is very athletic and strong and it is fun to watch him play and do any sport.  My fourth child loves to sing and dance and has natural ability there.  My fifth child is good with his hands and it will be fun to see what he does with his talents (he is only three).  I have no idea what my baby's strengths are yet, but it will be such fun to find out.

It is still sad that they are growing up so quickly.  The innocence of their faces and the sweetness of their questions is disappearing so much more quickly than I imagined.  I remember when my oldest was a newborn, I thought about him being in elementary school, second grade specifically (I had been a second grade teacher before he was born), and how far away that seemed.  Now he is going to be starting middle school and in a few short years, high school, and then he'll be gone.  And the kids following him will just be even more speedy.

Watching your kids grow up is a bittersweet experience, indeed.

Let Them Play Alone

There is a lot of pressure today to do everything with your kids.  You are criticized if you choose to sit back and watch them instead of get down and play with them.  Now, I fully believe that parents should play with their kids often.  I believe in the power of play, and one form of that play includes playing with a parent or other adult.

Tonight I was at the pool with my four older kids.  All this last week, there has been a post (a great post, to be sure) going around about how you should not worry about what you look like in a swimsuit and just get in the pool and play with your kids.  How I look in a swimsuit isn't something that concerns me when I am at the pool.  I don't believe either that people sit around and look at you and think about how you shouldn't be in a swimsuit.  I think most peopled are too self-absorbed to notice or think about how anyone else looks at the pool.

I love to swim and always take my kids swimming in the summer.  Sometimes, though, I just don't want to get in the water.  Sometimes, I just don't want to be wet.  Sometimes, the pool water is just too cold for me.  Tonight, the air was cool (high 70s) and even though it was hot all day, it wasn't warm enough for me to get in the water.  I didn't even want to put my feet in because the air was so comfortable.  So I watched from a chair on the side.  I didn't even bring my phone or something to read.  My four older kids can all swim just fine.  They had brought super spraying water guns to play with and were really going at it with each other.

I started to feel guilty for not getting in the water with them even though they asked several times.  The whole idea of not missing out on sharing a moment with them made me feel like I was doing something wrong.

But then I realized that they were playing together really well.  They played with those water guns for a good thirty to forty minutes, happy, laughing, swimming together.  They were getting along without me having to intervene every few minutes and remind them to be nice and share and blah, blah, blah.  Why should I interrupt that?  As great as it is to play with your kids and swim with them and do all these activities with them, it's also really good for them to play with each other without adult intervention or inclusion.  Sometimes, kids just need to play with other kids and work things out on their own without us.

So, even though it's great to get down and play with them and include yourself in their activities, it's also just fine to sit back and watch and not be part of it.  It helps them bond with each other and build friendships with each other.  After all, when I'm gone, they will have each other, and that will be a hundred times better if they are also friends.

Free Entertainment and Summer Fun

This summer, it is my goal to have as much fun as possible without spending any more money.  I bought a family pool pass for the summer, which was way too much money, in my opinion, given the hours the pool is open and how often it's closed due to thunderstorms, but beyond that, I have no intention of spending any more money.

That means no trips to Thanksgiving Point (a local attraction that consists of a few museums, beautiful gardens, an agricultural learning area, a movie theater, and lots of shops), no trips to the zoo, no trips to the aquarium.  That means no taking any summer classes beyond the private trumpet/trombone lessons I signed the boys up for to keep them practicing over the summer for band.  It means no lunches out and even no stopping at the snow cone shack for a cold treat on a hot day. It also means no road trips to visit family or friends.  What it means is only doing activities that cost no money at all.

What on earth does that leave to do?  In society's eyes, probably not a lot.  I've noticed that the fun most people post on Facebook that they have tend to be activities that cost money.  Not that any of that is bad; it's not.  But I have taken a good look around and realized that there is so much to do that can be done for free, or even really cheap.

Here is a my list of things to do so far:

--BYU has several museums that are free: The Museum of Art, The Monte L. Bean Science Museum, and a natural history museum. 

--There are lots of places to hike in the mountains around here (most of which I still have to discover because I don't know where kid-friendly hikes are)

--Blackridge Reservoir, which is a small man-made lake that we can swim in

--Many biking trails in our city

--Many new parks to explore

--Downtown SLC--Temple Square and some adjacent areas, like the Church History Museum and hiking up to Promontory Point.

--Free concerts/movies in the park hosted by the city

--Free parades, fairs and firework events throughout the summer

Then, of course, there is good, old-fashioned playing in a field: baseball, soccer, tag, etc. and other outdoor activities that can be done with a group of kids (six siblings and a mom count!), like chalk drawing, four square, basketball, bike games, setting up a lemonade/snow cone/other cold treat stand, and many, many more.

When I was growing up, we used to keep ourselves pretty well entertained in the summers without our parents carting us around to museums, aquariums, and zoos and other venues.  Somehow, we all  managed to come out of it okay and not bored.  Somehow we kept busy and out of trouble and had a lot of fun. 

So I'm going to focus this summer on a throwback to old times.  I'm not even doing my usual "summer learning" .  My kids have been in school since last July and they need a real break.  Aside from 30 minutes of daily reading and instrument practicing, they are free to play to their hearts content.

Ah, summer.  Good times!

Then and Now Kids

When I was a kid, my family joined a community club pool.  At that club, kids could go alone, without their parents, if they were eight years old or older and could pass a swim test.  The swim test involved swimming several laps, treading water for one minute and then retrieving something on the bottom of the pool.  My brothers and I passed that swim test easily and then spent the whole summer at the pool all day.   We would get there when they opened at 10 am and stay until lunch.  After heading home for lunch, we would go back to the pool until dinner time.  Often my mom would come with us in the afternoons.  Sometimes we would go back after dinner with my dad too.  When we weren't swimming there, they had sand volleyball, tetherball, and a video game room.  All of our friends did the same thing.  It was such a great place!
I was telling my kids about this awesomeness and one of them said, "Man, I wished I grew up when you did and lived in that place!"

I decided to look up that old community club pool to see if it was still there.  Sure enough, it's there.  So I decided to see if my kids could have the awesome summers now that I had when I was a kid if we lived in that place.  I was disappointed to learn that all of the things about the pool remained mostly the same except a few key differences.  They upped the age of attending without a parent to TWELVE!  My oldest, who is an awesome swimmer and the same age I was my first summer at the pool, wouldn't be able to attend without an accompanying adult even though he could easily pass the swim test.  The same swim test that I took at age eleven, mind you.

Why did we trust an eight-year-old in 1989 with doing something that today we wouldn't let an eleven-year-old do?  What changed?  Did they have one or more children unaccompanied by a parent drown in that pool between 1994 and 2014?  If they did, that would be terribly tragic, of course, but other than that, I can't see any reason why they should change the age if it was working then.

About eight years ago, a seven-year-old from Mesa, Arizona swam across San Fransisco Bay.  By himself.  It was to support campaigns to teach kids to swim to prevent childhood drownings.  Why do pools have rules that wouldn't even allow this seven-year-old, obviously an accomplished swimmer, attend the pool without being accompanied by a parent?

My own seven-year-old could pass that swim test.  I am seriously bugged by the notion that kids are not capable and need to be protected all the time.  The best times I had were the times I was given the freedom to do things as a child.  My younger brothers and I had a lot of fun times and a lot of them were at that pool.  I have the fondest memories of that place.

I don't know what the pool rules are at my current pool of choice regarding unaccompanied kids, simply because it is far enough away without any sort of bus service that my kids will have to always go with me.  Fortunately, they have a mama who loves to swim too (thanks to my childhood and spending those days at that pool), so we will go as often as possible.  But I won't be standing next to them nor will I force them to wear a life jacket all the time.  How can they learn to swim if they are always wearing a life jacket?

Somehow, kids have become incapable of doing things they could do on their own twenty years ago.  Parents have helicoptered and hovered and overprotected to the point that kids no longer can do the same things at the same ages as they could in the past.  They simply aren't ever allowed to try so they never develop the skill and are therefore not capable because we don't let them become capable. 

I do have six kids...

This week I had a conversation with another mom.  She said something like this, "You moms with lots of kids amaze me.  I only have a few and it's insane at my house sometimes!"

Honey, it's insane at my house pretty much all the time.  In fact, more often than not it is complete chaos.  People seem to think I have everything under control with my six kids.  It's true that I am an organized person.  I thrive on discipline and routine.  I like things to be clean.  Not just hide-the-clutter-because-a-guest-is-coming-over clean.  I like it white glove clean.  I like the closets, under the beds, the spice cabinet, the medicine cabinet, and all those other hidden places to be organized and clean too.  (Note: my house is not always this clean but I would love it to be this clean and strive to keep it as clean as I can.)

I scrubbed my baseboards, doors and door frames today because the little dark marks that are left by too many hands and feet were bothering me.  After I was done, I felt I had accomplished something fantastic.  Most likely, nobody will even notice anything is different, but it made me feel different to have it done.  I felt cleaner, more organized, and more in control of my world.

I love the Bill Cosby routine where he talks about parents and justice.  He talks about a crying child coming to a parent about a sibling taking a toy and how unfair it is.  He says, "We don't care about justice!  We just want quiet!"  That is the story of my life.

I am nervous that you admire me.  I want you to know, that as amazing as I may seem because I am juggling six kids, I am not all that amazing.  I yell way too much.  I sometimes hide in my closet.

I realize you probably look at me in awe because you struggle with your one, two or three.  I struggled when I had one, two, and three.  Parenting is grueling, exhausting, thanklessly difficult work that many people take for granted.  Everyone has a parent.  Many people who have never been a parent look back on their own parents and probably don't realize how taxing of a job it was.  Maybe their parents made it look easy or made it look like the parenting aspect of everything they did was a side thing.  I know I had such thoughts before I was a parent.  Now, with my six, I admire my mom even more for all she did for us.  I certainly didn't appreciate her at the time.  But now I recognize that she probably gave up sleep, spent many nights and days worrying about us, gave up money by having more kids, and many, many other things.

I have six kids.  That doesn't make me a parenting genius.  The only thing that I am genius at is realizing how hard parenting is and how hard we sometimes make it for each other.  We all have our strengths and weaknesses when it comes to parenting.  Maybe some people don't keep a spotless house but some do.  I have read articles pointing fingers at moms who do keep houses clean and implying that they must not be focused enough on their kids because their houses are so clean.  If they're like me, they can't focus until the house is clean.  Then they are much more relaxed and better at their job.  Maybe some people keep a spotless house and can't understand how one can function in a home that's not clean.  I know several moms who don't keep a clean house but they do amazing things with their kids and are much more relaxed about certain things than I am.

We are all different.  We need to stop making parenting a competition and a war.  Yes, we all should strive to do the best job possible, but my best job might look different than your best job.

So, mom with less than six kids, I may make it look easy because you struggle with three, and right now, three would be easier for me, but when I had three, I struggled with that too.  We are on the same road.  Let's help each other out along the way.

Raise Your Child the Way You See Fit

I get so tired of reading, day after day, all of the parenting advice that is out there.

Of course, often we seek the advice.  My baby sleeps sometimes and sometimes she doesn't.  She eats well some days and other days she doesn't.  So obviously, I try to find answers, or at least something I can do to help her lest I feel helpless.

However,  I feel overwhelmed by all the advice.  I get that we need to pick and choose what we think will work for our own families.  Still, that is rather difficult to do, and sometimes we still can't figure it out.  But if we try to heed all of the advice we read and hear, we will go crazy.

I recently read this about the "cry-it-out" method.  Granted, it is a few years old, but it came out right about the time that my fifth child was born and contributed greatly to my mom guilt, even though I had let my older four children cry at times.  The thing is, these articles tend to not distinguish between the truly damaging crying (orphans in filthy orphanages overseas who are left to cry for hours and hours because there is not enough help to care for them) and crying that helps keep the sanity of a mother going crazy (having to take care of kids who are 18 months apart when they are young, sometimes you had to let one cry to meet the needs of the other). They also don't seem to take into consideration the generations and generations of capable people who turned out just fine despite being left to cry it out at babies. Honestly, this kind of article makes me crazy. Of course, that is because I am guilty of letting my babies cry but more than that, I feel that my children were not damaged by it.

Besides that, a lot of the parenting advice given today is very child-centered.  The article referenced above states

A government pamphlet from the time recommended that "mothering meant holding the baby quietly, in tranquility-inducing positions" and that "the mother should stop immediately if her arms feel tired" because "the baby is never to inconvenience the adult."  Babies older than six months "should be taught to sit silently in the crib; otherwise, he might need to be constantly watched and entertained by the mother, a serious waste of time." (See Blum, 2002.)

Now, I'm not saying this government pamphlet had excellent advice, but I also don't believe that a child will be damaged because her mother puts her down when her arms are tired and because she is no longer in her mother's arms, she cries.  I really don't think that will damage a child.  If her mother threw her down or slapped her in the process, that would be damaging.  If her mother never held her, claiming she was too tired, that would be damaging.  I feel that whole notion is very child-centered.

Yes, I believe that good parents sacrifice a lot to be good parents, but I also don't think they should sacrifice everything and let the child rule their life.

I also believe that a lot of the advice given today does not necessarily lend itself to raising the quality of human being I want to raise.  I believe in things like good old-fashioned work, making kids wait for things, sometimes telling them words like no and never, making them walk places (walk!  can you imagine?), letting them fail (crazy, I know!), and letting them solve their own problems.

Parents, your job is to provide food and shelter and security for your children.  There are many avenues to get there.  Seek advice, but don't try to do everything.  And remember, if you are trying and you are doing what you think is best for your family, don't let the naysayers make you feel inadequate.  You are not inadequate to raise the child that was given to you.  You are just the person that child needs to have as his or her parent.