6 Things I Didn't Know About the Flu Until This Week

My family has been hit with the flu. My son spiked a 102 temperature last Tuesday evening and life has not been the same since. I had no idea just how intense the flu could be (or how long it could last). Here's some of what I have learned this week.

1. Some flus make you sick for a long time and that is just normal!

Flus are different than colds in that there is usually almost no build up before you get sick. Colds come on slowly; flus hit you like a freight train. Symptoms last for a full four or five days and often include: chills, headache, muscle aches, dizziness, loss of appetite, tiredness, cough, sore throat, runny nose, nausea or vomiting, and weakness. This can mean that you and/or your child will have a temperature over 100 for multiple days in a row (if it is over 100 for more than three days, however, with no break, it is recommended you call your doctor). After those days, a cough and weakness remain for up to two weeks afterwards. All of this is normal and does not mean anything else is wrong.

2. You are contagious for a long time.

This is where I want all moms to listen up. Unlike most colds and viruses where the common belief is that once the fever is over, you usually aren't very contagious, with flus, you are contagious until all the symptoms end. This means that you stop being contagious when you stop coughing completely. For most healthy adults this is about a week after you catch the flu. If you have a small child with the flu or if someone in your family has asthma (like I do), it means that they might have the cough longer and may be contagious up to two weeks! So, if you suspect your family had the flu, keep everyone at home or make them where masks in public for your brief forays. No one should be inflicted with the hell my family just went through!

3. Cold humidifiers are awesome.

Okay, I knew this before we caught the flu, but I loved already owning them. They do not create hot steam and so are much safer to have around small children. However, they do moisten the air and help open swollen breathing ways just as well as they hot ones do and they seem to last a lot longer than the hot air vaporizers. They are, however, a little more expensive, but I feel like the cost is totally worth it.

4. A flu can make you feel like you are going to die, but there is really nothing a doctor can do for you.

We did not go to the doctor, but I did call mine because I do have asthma and I do know that my son has the genetic possibility of having it one day. (I did not become completely symptomatic until age 14.) I nicknamed this particular flu the "Brown Plague" because it was almost as bad as the "Black Plague," but it wasn't going to kill us. However, here are a list of symptoms that mean you should take your child to the emergency room with the flu: fast breathing or trouble breathing, bluish or gray skin color, not drinking enough fluids, severe or persistent vomiting
not waking up or not interacting, being so irritable that the child does not want to be held, flu-like symptoms improve but then return with fever and cough. As my 2 1/2 year old, thirty odd pound son did not want to be put down during the entire five days, nursed (and slept) like a new born (up every two hours or so), and only vomited twice (on two very separate days for two separate reasons), I figured he was still healing healthily enough and we avoided the emergency room. This was probably a good thing as I'm not sure my husband or I were really healthy enough to be driving.

5. Elderberry May Kill the Flu

Obviously, I did not know this one at all or I would have had elderberries on hand. Apparently, it is well documented that elderberry kills flu viruses if you take it from the very beginning. This study says that people were "symptom free" after two days! I don't have personal experience, yet, but you can bet your knickers I'm going to be buying elderberry when I back to the health food store!

6. The Flu Can Have "After" Effects

This is mostly for people with compromised immune systems or weak lungs. If you have asthma and you catch the flu, you can develop a rattle when you breathe like I have and you can develop plugged ears. These are after effects that can lead to serious complications, so you have to take care of them. The Neti Pot can help with both of those, but it is also recommended that you take something to thin the mucus. Mucinex is readily available, but there are more natural alternatives with less weird commercials. However, as a national drug chain is far closer to my house than the health food stores I can use in this area, I cannot tell you with any experience if any of those work. I just started using Mucinex tonight . . . we'll see how it goes.

7. The Flu Can Make You a Better Mom

Okay, so not every minute of the flu makes you a better mom, but I found because I knew that I was crabby already, I was able to be extra careful and not be impatient with my son. Because I wasn't feeling well, I didn't try to get a million things done and I was pretty grateful for what I did manage to do! I also had an easier time forgiving myself and letting myself turn the tide while I was sick because I knew that I was not at my best and so it was easier to forgive and move on. I tried to take snapshots of the good moments when I did get to snuggle a little closer with my usually very independent toddler, and I tried to push the bad moments into the fog of "The Brown Plague." You can survive the flu and be the mom you want to be during it; you just have to be forgiving of those moments when you were sick.

Oh, and it's okay to watch way too much tv when no one can move. Really. It is.

Thanks for reading,

Shawna

"But We Turned Out Fine"

As parents, we want the best for our children.  We also want to not offend those around us if they choose something different than what we believe is the best.  In doing so, we use the word "fine" to describe what we are doing or when we don't want to offend.

"I was given formula as a baby and I turned out fine."

"My baby had solids at 3 months and turned out fine."

"I was induced at 37 weeks and we are fine."

"I didn't ride in a carseat as a child and I turned out fine."

This can be used for so many things.  But the thing is, do we want our children to just turn out "fine"?  Or do we want them to turn out great?

For me, using the word "fine" in this context has always been my buffer and my defense.  I never understood how damaging it truly is to be so defensive about something I knew deep down I shouldn't have done.

Knowing more now, I'm ashamed at how I've acted.  I'm ashamed of things I've done as a parent because I didn't know any better.  I'm ashamed of how often I've used those phrases just to make myself (and others) feel better about how I'm parenting.

In reality, when you're using the word "fine" to describe your children, or yourself, you're not okay.  I have a lot of scars that I carry from my childhood and adulthood until now, and a lot of them have to do with how I thought I was doing fine.

We should be better.  We should say that we grew up loved, happy, healthy, and in essence, we are doing great.

It doesn't matter how you feed your child.  It doesn't matter if they watch television, or play video games, or where you shop, or what you buy.  Every family has different needs.

We shouldn't be defensive and worried about what others will think.  Don't want to nurse your toddler?  Then you don't have to!  Don't want to do baby led weaning?  Then don't!  Don't want to babywear?  Then don't worry about it!

It's your life to live.  Just instead of talking about how fine you and your children are, stop and think for just a minute, then reply with, "We are doing great, because we are loved."

A Little Patience on a Friday Evening

On a Friday early evening, after a rainy morning spent at a museum, a lunch with his dad and me, and an afternoon spent with his uncle, aunt, their dog, and me, my son played outside in the backyard. I put our teatime dishes in the sink, and then I sat down with the baby to nurse her to sleep for her late afternoon nap. With the baby sleeping on my chest, I read the news on my iPhone and listened to my son’s tractor and truck noises from the backyard as well as the phases of quiet when he was just digging. I read an article on patience from National Public Radio; I read a post from Lisa Belkin about how money is actually the thing that makes the difference in parenting, the thing that strengthens a parent’s emotional reserve for children. I looked around the house that someone else had cleaned that morning and agreed that this was true; that I could enjoy this moment of my baby napping while my son entertained himself outside rather than try to pick up the house and wash the floors did indeed do a world of good for my emotional reserve. My husband sent word that he was on his way home. I thought about getting up to heat up some soup. I got up instead because I realized the phase of quiet coming from the back yard had extended a little longer than long.

When I had last looked outside the kitchen window, my son had been crouched down and digging and filling his bucket with dirt. When I walked into the kitchen next, I saw what he had been working on. In the same way that the splintered off broomsticks haul bucket of water after bucket of water eventually flooding the house of the sorcerer in Fantasia, my son had filled a good portion of our kitchen with dirt from the backyard. It turns out the hauling capabilities of a few hundred magical broomsticks could be beat by my son and his bucket in a matter of minutes.

Looking at my backyard of dirt that was now residing on my kitchen floor, I instantly thought of how much my husband looks forward to coming home to a cleaned house on the days that the cleaning lady comes. I thought if I was the one who had washed that floor, I would have probably instantly gotten frustrated. I would have thought of the lost hours, the logistical planning it requires to wash a floor when navigating the moods, naps and activities of an 8-month old and a 3 ½ year old. Then I thought how the person who washed the floor would be back Monday to wash it again.

When my son next appeared in the doorway with another bucket, we had one of those moments that feels like it occurs in slow motion. He saw me and stopped. His face dropped and froze, as if he knew I would instantly get frustrated at him. I realized I didn’t want my son to have the experience of doing something and being scared of getting in trouble for it. I had never actually made it a rule that he should not bring buckets of dirt into the kitchen. I remembered in my own childhood, I hated it when I did something that I didn’t know was against a rule until I did it and a rule suddenly appeared. I remembered those instants of happiness and contentment disappearing the moment I realized I was in trouble because a rule I didn’t know existed suddenly appeared.

I didn’t want that for him.

I thought of the article on patience I had just read, that if I developed enough patience I could intervene with initial reactions to prevent doing or saying something I would regret.

I looked back at my son and smiled. He smiled his delightful smile.

I said in my calmest-most-even-keel-way, “When Daddy comes home, he will hold baby and I will help you clean up the dirt.”

“Okay,” my son said. “I’m digging inside, now that it’s night outside.”

Of course. He wanted to keep digging now that it was night. I had to admit, given he was only working with one small bucket, there was an impressive amount of dirt on my kitchen floor. I couldn’t help but admire his vision, his engineering, and his persistence.

I even admired his reasoning: The sun is going down and it is getting chilly outside but I want to keep digging ergo I will just bring the backyard indoors and I can keep digging.

When my husband walked in the door, I said, “You should walk only into the living room and stop before you get to the kitchen. I will help him clean it up.”

And with multiple brooms and dustpans and eventually the vacuum, we did it clean it up together (Okay, I did do a greater chunk, but still he did a good portion.)

Before dinner, the backyard was restored to its rightful location. My son learned that we can make messes and we can clean them up. I learned a little patience goes a long way, and that clean floors can simply be washed again and that, in hindsight, offering to help my son put the backyard back where he found it was far less traumatic for all of us than any of the alternatives. My husband learned that while it is nice to come home to a clean home, it is far more entertaining and enlightening to come home to find your children recreating the landscape to meet their personal specifications, that to some extent it is gratifying to note that your children feel comfortable and safe exploring their world and their capabilities rather than staying within the lines of a clean house.

The Never Ending Mommy Wars

When I became a mother, my life changed, and an entire world I knew nothing about took over. I had a mountain of decisions to make, and didn’t know which way to go. Those first lonely months at home with my newborn were really overwhelming. Mommy blogs and message boards were just becoming popular, and so, I turned to the internet for companionship. It was the easiest way to find and talk with other moms.

At first I was first impressed with the amount of information I found and felt comforted by the fact that there were so many women like me, who wanted to share and connect with people, even if it was just through a computer screen. But then I became aware of something that goes on not just on the internet, but in real life, as well: the mommy wars. Breast vs. bottle; work vs. stay at home; c-section vs. natural birth; Ferber vs. Sears; rear facing vs. forward facing car seats; Stride Rite vs. Payless; and pretty much any parenting decision you could imagine is challenged, dissected, and ultimately condemned by someone out there who disagrees. 

I frequented one popular mommy site in particular, and the arguing that ensued there over nearly everything was reminiscent of a soap opera. Sharing that I was going to return to work full time when my son was six months old, I was blasted by strangers who knew nothing about me as being selfish, greedy, self-serving, and letting someone else raise my child. If only those women could have been with me to feel my heart being wrenched out of my body every single time I had to leave my child with a stranger. If only they knew the feeling of being ripped apart limb from limb, the condemnation I put myself through for not being responsible enough with money when I was younger so that I could afford to stay home; for thinking having a baby and going back to work would be a piece of cake; for not being there every single time my son cried.

I couldn’t believe that any woman, stranger on the web or not, would think or imply that I was any less caring or any less of a parent than she because I worked outside the home. Even worse, I had a very high intervention birth, I formula fed, and did not wear my baby, and those choices were put down too.

Eventually I realized that the worst of the criticism was coming from myself. As a first time parent, I was unsure of many of the choices I was making. I allowed people to make me feel like a poor parent because I felt like one already.

I started asking myself questions about how I was parenting and why. Over time I started frequenting different internet sites and became exposed to different groups of women, a couple in particular who challenged my decisions in a gentle, but thought provoking, manner. I went back to the drawing board with my parenting. I spent hours and hours researching vaccines; circumcision, breast-feeding, natural birth, baby wearing, cloth diapers, and much more. I changed what I could with my son, and swore to myself that when the next baby came, my husband and I would make decisions because we were informed, not because it was what everyone else was doing.

I suppose at that point I was no longer a mainstream parent. I honestly felt like I would be welcomed into the non-mainstream community, and that it would be wonderful to sit back and say, “Isn’t it just great that we all accept each other?”

Unfortunately, the mommy wars are never ending. I very quickly became aware of another facet to this side effect of parenthood, and it is the AP (attachment parenting), or crunchy, moms vs. the mainstream moms. One side attacks the other and each struggles to come back with something proving that they are the better parents. It’s really sad, it’s really disappointing, and what’s been particularly surprising for me has been that even the like-minded moms argue amongst themselves.

Even in the non-mainstream parenting circles, I often find that there seems to be a certain set of rules and standards that moms are held up to in order to be Good Parents. Among those are: cloth diapering, co-sleeping, no pacifier, breast-feeding, child led weaning, elimination communication, drugless births, delaying solids, organic eating, home schooling, and more. (I’ve done most of these with my second child and plan to continue with my third—and I still don’t feel crunchy enough). If a mother does not adhere to all of these rules yet she claims to be an AP parent, she is criticized and ultimately, over time, becomes ostracized from the very circle she sought to join. And amongst the blue ribbon pedigreed AP moms, there is a lot of patting on the back, a lot of self-congratulatory comments and behavior, a lot of self-satisfaction and praise for each other for being the Perfect Parent.

Isn’t attachment parenting about not conforming to anyone else’s rules? Isn’t it about child-led parenting? Isn’t it about listening to your baby and child’s cues, and doing the best you can? If every child is different, then what works for one will not work for another. There is no set of standards, or at least there shouldn’t be in my opinion. Since when did it become a battle of who uses the most organic cloth diapers, who doesn’t get the epidural, who breastfeeds the longest? Since when have using a pacifier or the Ferber method become acceptable reasons for casting someone out, for ending friendships? It startles me that we can go on and on about accepting and being gentle with our children when we don’t do it with each other.

Though these types of disagreements happen everywhere, the online world seems to be the worst. I’ve read comments on message boards that seriously make me cringe. Why are people so beastly on the internet? Is it because they hide behind their keyboard, never having to face the consequences of their words? Do people become bolder when they are tapping the keys away well into the middle of the night, instead of having to actually speak with someone? I wonder how many of these Perfect Mothers would tout their credentials with fervor in a room full of real people, instead of in a virtual chat room or on a message board?

Why don’t we think better of ourselves as women? Why don’t we hold ourselves to higher standards? Don’t we realize that by fighting amongst ourselves we perpetuate the unfortunate stereotypes that women are catty, backstabbing, and dishonest? Even the phrase “mommy wars” makes me feel like we’re just a bunch of loud-mouthed, cat-fighting witches.

While I don’t believe in circumcision, don’t practice crying it out, selectively vaccinate on my own schedule, am obsessive about eating well, and am insanely passionate about breastfeeding and car seat safety, among other things, the thought that I couldn’t be friends with a mother, in real life, or on the internet, who doesn’t do all these things exactly as I do, never occurred to me. I talk to my real life mom friends and family about the wealth of knowledge I have acquired and how valuable it is to me, but I would never dream of ending my interaction with a mother based on whether or not she actually followed my path. Frankly, if I believe my way is best, and I’m hoping to get other moms over on my side, the best way to do that is with gentle advice, guidance, and support. I’ve never had any luck convincing anyone of anything when I’ve criticized them and made them defensive.

As much as I pride myself on making our food from scratch, staying away from processed snacks, and as pristine as our diet is the vast majority of the time, occasionally you may find Chex Mix (for me) or Cheez Its (for my husband) in my pantry. I nursed my daughter for two and a half years, and she enjoyed a pacifier for two of those years. In my home, we all prefer to sleep in our own beds. I don’t have homebirths. My kids eat Amy’s Organic frozen pizza. I gave up my all-natural shampoo recently because after getting a sample of Aveeno in the mail, my hair was so much shinier and manageable that I couldn’t go back. Some days I recycle like a mad woman, and some days I just throw the toilet paper roll into the regular trash. Why? Because I don’t have a crunchy checklist. And because I’m human. There’s so much to keep track of and manage, and sometimes one of the balls I’m juggling falls to the floor. And that’s OK.

You can be a good parent, a great parent, in fact, and make none of the choices I have made. I know I went through a period where, internally at least, I was judgmental of other mothers and the way they raised their children. I know I was self-righteous and thought I had it all figured out. Finally branching out in my neighborhood and making some real friends has helped me get over my judgment. I’ve come full circle. Sure, I’m opinionated—and I love to share information about what I’m doing. But I’m finally confident enough in myself to not pay too much attention to what other people are doing. I no longer feel the need to brag about my natural living or parenting skills. In fact, amongst my friends, none of us do things exactly the same. And I like it that way!

I’m finally home full time and ecstatic to be so; and make the best choices I can for my family. My husband and I parent as human beings, good human beings. We love our children; we parent them instinctively, and will continue to do so. If something works for us, great, and it doesn’t matter which umbrella it falls under, the mainstream or the AP. 

I certainly don’t measure a good mother by how long she breastfed, or what kind of labor she had, or whether her baby sleeps in a crib or not. I don’t find it necessary to alienate mothers for using the cry it out method, or for giving solids in a time frame I deem as too soon; because I know that they are good mothers. They love their children, and they do what they think is best. I wouldn’t take my friendship away from a woman who chose to have an elective c-section at 40 weeks—I would try with all my might to warn her, and give her information, but the idea that she is a bad mother or doesn’t love her baby is ridiculous. Often, moms make these types of choices because they don’t know that there is another way—and I know that because I was one of those mothers.

And of course, the judgment comes from both sides. It is because of the harsh words and comments from the mainstream community, and because they sting, that I am disappointed to find that the other side engages in this war, as well. I guess since it seems as if non-mainstream parents hold themselves to a higher standard when it comes to their living and parenting choices, I hoped that would apply to them as human beings, as well.

I feel for the new mothers, the ones who struggle the way I did, to find the right way. I fear the rejection and judgment they will face when they enter an environment full of Perfect Mothers for the first time, whichever side of the spectrum they are on. It saddens me, as a woman and a mother, that we cannot find common ground in simply loving our children the best way we know how. 

You Need More PINK!

I can’t pinpoint exactly when Americans felt the necessity to dress their daughters up like Easter baskets with ribbons and ruffles and sparkles and bows in order to prove they were girls, but I can say that as a child born in 1976, those things were generally reserved for special occasions, and there are plenty of photos of me and my three older sisters wearing earth tones and primary colors, and even [gasp!] blue without any flowers or frilly things with it!  If you know me well, then you know that I hate the color pink.  As one might imagine given today’s society, this became somewhat problematic once I had a daughter.  While there are a few muted shades I can tolerate, especially when sprinkled in with other colors, I usually find myself shuttering, and ultimately fleeing from the girls section in clothing stores.  Particularly the shoe department – apparently no girl can be without a bedazzled flower, rainbow, or glitter on her already pink shoes. 

Don’t get me wrong, I see plenty of little cutie pie girls dolled up in pink floral dresses and I find them absolutely adorable!  I have no problem with other parents choosing to dress their children this way, because that is absolutely their own decision and far from my business to judge.  Worrying about how others dress their children is not something I see as a valuable way to spend my time.  However, when it comes to my own daughter, something about the whole thing makes me cringe.  I dread the day when she will be old enough to choose the things she wants to wear.  The day when she will start to submit to marketing, peer pressure and social paradigms.  She is only 19 months old, and I’m already struggling to devise a way to somehow protect her from this oversimplified “genderfication,” as I personally like to call it.  Even if I can limit her exposure at home to television and Disney princesses, how can I stop it from seeping in through friends at school, sleepovers, etc… without keeping my child in a bubble or making her an outcast?

It is infuriating to say the least, because there is something far greater going on than simply dressing girls in pink.  The notion that girls are only meant to be pretty little princesses has far reaching implications, and marketing, media and society all seem to be on board with the plan.  But whether or not immersing my daughter in a sparkle covered pink world of Barbies and princesses will have an adverse impact on her life is a topic for another post.  My intention is to focus on the color divide that has evolved around our children.  It truly baffles me.

Prior to last month’s addition of yellow, somewhat feminine looking eyeglasses, I can probably count on one hand the number of times strangers referred to my daughter as a girl.  Even if she was wearing hints of pink, the response given far too often after it was revealed that she was not a boy was, “You need more pink.”  You need more pink?  What does that even mean?  I have to dress my daughter monochromatically because you are incapable of uttering an extra sentence to inquire about the sex of my baby?  These people always acted as if I had her dressed head to toe in baby blue, and it was obviously all my fault for leading them astray.  When in actuality, my means of trickery usually consisted of her being dressed in earth tones, primary colors, or even pastel yellows and greens.  My favorite incident occured when she was wearing the rainbow, puffy sleeved onesie pictured below.  She was pulled out of a blue baby carrier, and my other baby gear is either indigo blue or earth tones.  It made me question whether baby gear colors trump clothing in shaping people's perception of gender.  I was unaware that I had to extend the pink rule to my baby gear as well.  In the end, I was always more irritated by the foolish color related comments than the fact that they mixed up her sex. 

Onesie from my favorite "you need more pink" incident

What struck me about the whole thing was that apparently baby boys are permitted to wear ALL but one or two colors, whereas girls are strictly limited to pink, and I suppose by close relation purple.  When did this happen?  I realize it’s been going on for some time now, but it only seems to be getting worse.  The few commercials I have managed to catch that are aimed at young girls practically make my head spin Exorcist style.  There’s usually a few girls playing in a bedroom, EVERYTHING in the room is pink, and there are sparkles literally flying through the air.  What is the reasoning behind this?  Is our society so hell bent on instilling female gender roles from infancy onward, that from day one we have to blanket their entire world in the one color that is associated with women?  Will they not know that they are girls if every single thing they own, from school supplies to dishes, isn't pink or purple?  I’m pretty sure if we opened up the spectrum a bit, girls would still play with dolls and adhere to all the other parameters of their “genderfication.”

For the record, I’m not against playing with dolls, or many other things typically associated with girls.  The division of labor in my home could not be more stereotypically assigned, with me doing the cooking, cleaning, laundry, sewing and daytime child rearing as a stay at home mom.  I adore fulfilling that role and wouldn’t have it any other way.  I think doll play instills nurturing abilities, and pretending to be a princess is wonderful exercise for the imagination.  However, my daughter also plays with cars (which she loves!) among other things, and even at this early age is showing signs of becoming what some may consider a tomboy.  I just wish that everything for girls wasn’t color coded, and especially in the case of toys, that pink girly things weren’t the ONLY things marketed towards them.  Sadly, with media variations expanding by the second, hand in hand with new means of bombarding these images and products at the brains of our impressionable daughters, I only see this problem getting worse.  As a result, chances are my daughter’s favorite color will be pink.  If that’s the case – so be it, as long as it makes her happy. 

The Hippies Would Disown Me

A couple weeks ago, one of the pages I follow on facebook posted a question for their followers on what things they are hiding so they aren't kicked out of the crunchy crowd.  There was even a blog carnival on this topic a week ago.  It got me thinking.

We are hiding key parts of ourselves so we aren't judged.  Things we are ashamed of for no other reason than having a very judgmental crowd of people look down on us.  And the thing is, most of those that would judge the decisions we make that set us apart from the truly crunchy crowd do the same things we are doing.

So I asked my friends, asked on the facebook page, and a lot of the answers were shockingly similar.

These are my top reasons the hippies and crunchy crowd would disown me in a heartbeat.

1.  Shopping at Walmart - This one is highly hidden, yet when asked, is admitted freely.  I shop at Walmart for everything.  I live in a smaller town, and we only have 3 grocery stores, but Walmart has everything I could need in one trip.  And when you shop with an almost five year old that wants everything, the faster the trips, the easier it is on me.  I also used to work at Walmart.  Just with those two admissions, I'm out of the crunchy club.

2.  Television - The television in our house (for the most part) runs all day long.  I can't have quiet no matter what I'm doing, so most of the day it's music (our laptop is hooked through our TV since we don't have cable or a DVD player), but our daughter watches movies, I watch trashy TV shows, and the TV is rarely turned off.

3.  Ina May Gaskin - This one is more in with the natural birth crowd, but I am not a big fan of Ina May.  I believe she has done a lot for pregnant women and birth in this country, but I don't think she is the all knowing and powerful midwife she has been set up to be.  I don't agree with a lot of her practices.  And with that, my birth credibility is out the window ;)

4.  High Heels - I love my stilettos.  I will always love my stilettos.  I don't care if they ruin my hips, my ankles, my posture, my back.  I will wear them until the day I die.

5.  Tin Foil - I cook with this all the time.  The bottom of my stove is lined with tin foil to catch drippings.  I use tin foil to cover food in my fridge if I don't have a lid for it.  Tin foil is my best friend.

6.  Disposable Diapers - I used only disposable diapers with my daughter.  Yes, this was before I became the crunchy nut I am, but I never once considered cloth.

7.  Baby Led Weaning - We started our daughter on solids at four months old (three months adjusted). We fed her with a spoon from bottled Gerber baby food until she was almost a year.

8.  Babywearing - We had a crotch dangler that we used all the time with our daughter.  Bought it for $20 at Walmart.

9.  Toilet Paper/Paper Towels - I've thought about going to family cloth, but I love flushing toilet paper and not dealing with it, and I love using paper towels.  The idea of switching is an idea just to save money, but I do love my disposable paper.

10.  Video Games - My house is like a fun house for geeks and nerds.  We love Nintendo, and own almost every system they've ever made.  Our daughter knows how to play most Nintendo games, knows most of the characters, and we are proud of that.

11.  Fast Food - Our daughter loves Happy  Meals.  We love fast food.  We eat it less often now, but it's still a splurge and it's still delicious.

12.  Vaccinations - We don't vaccinate, but I love people that do.  Especially those that research the decision and made the choice themselves.  I can't ever say what is right for another family, and this topic is one of them.  It is none of my business, and if you are with the crunchy crowd everyone thinks it's their decision to make for you and it isn't.  Vaccinate your kids if you want to and have researched your decision.  It is after all your decision to make.

13.  Disney - Our daughter loves Disney, as do we.  Her room is decorated with Disney Princesses, she has a princess castle, and has memorized every line from Beauty and the Beast.  And I'm not ashamed of that.

14.  Artificial Dye - We don't eat this anymore, only because of how much our daughter has changed while being off, but I used to love it.  Candy is delicious and I love it.  If our daughter hadn't changed when coming off, we would have gone right back to eating fake food and loving it.

15.  Nestle - The Nestle Boycott is one of the main staples of being crunchy.  We won't buy anything Nestle even if it's from one of their partners, but if someone gives us stuff that Nestle made (especially Wonka candy which is my weakness), we will eat it.  I won't throw it out.  For Halloween, our daughter got a lot of Nestle candy, and I enjoyed it right alongside her.  No shame.  I didn't buy it, but I will enjoy eating it.

Just because you lead a crunchy life doesn't mean you have to hide the parts of you others in your circles wouldn't agree with.  And the thing is, I'm pretty sure there are no true crunchy types and no true hippies that don't do at least one thing others wouldn't scoff at.

Lead your life.  I still say I'm uber-crunchy and hippie, and the parts that don't truly agree with that are just my flair for the dramatic.

5 Revisions I'd Like to See Made to the Parenting Phrasebook

As someone who has had a love of words and language for most my life, I pay attention to how we use language, how we use specific words to describe things, or how one’s use of language reveals not just a specific thought, but how one views herself and her particular situation. For example, when I hear on the playground a parent disclosing that they are in the midst of the “Bedtime Battles,” I can’t help but wonder to myself if this particular parent views all of parenting as a war, where their child is the enemy and the aim of each day is to gain the upper hand. Comparing parenting to fighting a war makes me sad; I think of all the moments in those relationships that end up lost because the attention is on “staying in power”. I’d like to see the comparison drop out of use. There are a few other words and phrases I’d like to see drop out of use:

1) Naughty. As in, “You’re being kind of naughty right now.” Generally used when the child is not doing what the parent wants or is not listening to the parent or doing something else the parent considers disruptive. Yet, it doesn’t describe the child’s behavior that is frustrating the parent: essentially it’s a judgment and label used for the parent’s convenience. When parents label a child in such a way, they are in no way working with the child. Did the parent get down on the child’s level, make eye contact, and specifically say what the desired behavior is? As in, “I know you would like to keep playing with your toys, but we need to leave now, which means we need to put your shoes on. Can you help me find your shoes?”

Labeling a child’s behavior also negates the child’s experience. Alfie Kohn in Unconditional Parenting points out that when every time a child “misbehaves” or exhibits challenging behavior, there is a valid complaint on the part of the child, whether it’s that the child is hungry, over-stimulated or tired (especially in younger children) or that the child is upset about something and doesn’t feel safe expressing their emotions. Telling children they are being naughty may be effective in shaming them to give parents the desired result, but it’s not sustainable parenting because it doesn’t get to the root issue causing the “naughty” behavior. Doing a little detective work to get to when the child's behavior started to go south, however, can go a long way to getting to the source of what happened. So can teaching your child self-awareness by asking how s/he feels when s/he engages in such behavior or if s/he can use her words instead of acting out.

2) Good. As in, “What good children” where it is essentially saying the children are being well behaved. It seems harmless in this context, but it’s still a judgment. It also infers that by “good” we mean the children are being quiet, polite, and don’t require much attention from the surrounding adults. Because good is also a judgment, it can be seen as praise, which can be just as manipulative (if not more so) as punishment or shaming.

When it comes time for children to differentiate themselves (called rebelling in some circles), the "good" label becomes an easy thing to test, as in, "If I get bad grades, am I still good? Shoplift my clothes? Skip school?" On the flip side, children are less likely to take chances, push themselves, challenge themselves or take on big projects, because they're scared they might lose the "good" label.

3) “I’m your parent, not your friend.”

Friends listen to each other. Friends talk to each other in a respectful manner. Friends share their feelings with each other. They accept and respect each other. Friends are always on each other’s side. They guide each other through difficult situations and tough moments. They offer perspective when a friend is about to be untrue to her values. Friends celebrate each other’s triumphs. Friends work and play together. Friends ask for – and take – each other’s advice. They laugh and cry in each other’s company, where it’s safe to be vulnerable. In the friend relationship, the relationship has to work for both parties, and both people are equally important. In healthy friendships, one friend does not manipulate or take advantage of the other, because it would be disrespectful. In arguments, friends can say, “My feelings are hurt,” or “I feel frustrated,” or “Let’s work this out.”

Parents – traditionally – judge, approve, disapprove, punish (whether it’s spanking, giving time outs, shaming, or putting their kids down, etc) reward, manipulate or bribe (but frown on being manipulated or bribed by their children) and are full of “teaching moments” and corrections. Traditionally, the parent-child relationship privileges the parent and the parent’s experience. This is convenient for the parent, but in the long run, it doesn’t contribute to building a strong relationship with the child, since it mainly is about having the child behave.

Some parents are more interested in having their children behave, and I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, just that it has limitations. Many seem to think that if they are “friends” with their children, somehow they will spoil their children or their children will not behave because in being friends their parenting has slipped down the slope towards Philistine permissiveness. Yet if parents brought some of the qualities of their friendships into the relationships with their children (enjoying each other’s company, laughing together, respecting each other’s autonomy), they could have their children behave and a beautiful relationship with their children.

4) “Distinguish between the child and his behavior. Make it clear that it’s not the child who’s bad, it’s the behavior.”

Right. Because young children have the intellectually advanced self-awareness that this distinction requires. Adults struggle with separating what they do from their self-worth or their achievements (or lack thereof) from their self-worth, so it’s unreasonable to expect children to be able to separate their behavior from their self-worth. And if children are then told that they themselves are “good,” it’s just their behavior that’s “bad”? What a muddle, to be a good person who does bad things and what a challenge, as the ability to hold two contrary ideas in one’s mind at the same time is also rather an advanced mental task.

For purposes of behavior and child rearing, I’m all for dropping the uses of “good” and “bad” (aka naughty) altogether. No one likes having themselves or their behavior judged. We can use non-judgmental language instead in such situations, by simply explaining that the unwanted behavior is disrespectful to, devalues, or hurts another person (or thing). Children feel shame beginning at around two ages of age (some even say as early as ten months, but I can’t find the research that substantiates this); they already feel bad when they do something that displeases or disappoints us, but rather than add to it, why not just give them the tools to correct their actions, and in the long run, be accountable for their actions?

5) “Because I said so” or “Because I’m the parent.”

Granted, there are times when we need our kids to do what we say, and even cases where they need to do it immediately, whether it’s to get out of the street because there’s a bus coming or to hold our hands in a busy subway station where they could easily get lost; however, when these phrases are used outside of emergency-like situations, they are nothing more than authoritarian bullying. They teach a child that whoever is bigger is right just because they’re bigger. It’s an oxymoron to tell your child to stop playground bullying when you bully them at home as a discipline tactic. And it’s okay for children to question authority, to learn how to negotiate, to compromise, to ask questions. Parents aren't doing children any favors by teaching them that authority figures are infallible.

In Robin Grille’s Parenting for a Peaceful World, he cites a powerful study, where children raised in authoritarian homes where parents taught children to blindly obey, grew up to be the adults who didn’t say anything when the Nazis came to power in Germany. Children who were taught to question, however, were more likely to be compassionate and empathetic and put their lives at risk to save or hide perfect strangers. In such a situation, who do you want your child to be?

A Letter To My Preggo Self

Today I'd like to share some wisdom with my first-time pregnant, anticipating the birth of Agent E, confused, overwhelmed self. Following are just a few things it would have been nice to know in advance.

The birth class at the hospital will be pointless. Still, you attend out of obligation and hang on every word. You even drag your husband with you, with pillows. (Why do they ask you to bring pillows? It's not like they have nap time halfway through.) You come away with a list of things to bring to the birth, including but not limited to a giant ball to sit on, music (with your own boom box), and more pillows. Then you go into labor at 2:00 a.m., three weeks early, before you pack your hospital bag. So, you throw your cell phone and a few pairs of underwear in a backpack and consider yourself ready. When Baby #2 comes along, you plan what you are taking right after you pee on the stick.

Take more pictures of your pregnant shape. Yes, you will go on to do this two more times, but each growing baby deserves its own photographic evidence. Then back them up; your computer will crash when your daughter is a few weeks old and you will lose some beautiful photos forever.

You have already decided you will breastfeed, and that's great! However, you seem to think it will be quite simple since you've read a few chapters of a (lame) pregnancy book. Trust me; you do not have the first clue what breastfeeding is really going to be like. You know those breastfeeding classes you have seen advertised? The ones you have been kind of giggling at and making fun of? Take one. I'm serious. Take. The. Class. Plus, you still have some unresolved negative feelings about nursing from what you've heard from friends and the media. Get over it, and get to a La Leche League meeting. Your future self will be most grateful, and someday write this about your breastfeeding experience and how far you've come.

About that pathetic pre-birth reading list . . . you could really use some new material. Go ahead now and buy a copy of The Baby Book. While you're at it, pick up a copy of The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding as well. Read them both from cover to cover. Now do it again. Stop reading pregnancy magazines, mainstream parenting magazines, and online message boards. You're just making yourself crazy.

Buy some cute newborn clothes and pajamas. Everyone will tell you it's not worth it, they outgrow them too fast, and to buy 3-6 month stuff instead. However, you will birth a tiny baby who will be completely swallowed by every article of clothing you have. Luckily, some nice friend (who's been there, three times) will give you some clothes that actually fit, and it will be much easier to dress her for the first two months.

You will debate the merits of crib style and mattress firmness as if the fate of the universe depended on it. And you will end up co-sleeping. Congratulations: You just purchased the most expensive cat bed and stuffed toy receptacle ever. Actually, that's not 100% true. Eventually you will discover if you remove the front it makes a great sidecar. Agent E will sleep here until she's almost three. And you will kick yourself for taking so long to figure this out.

That Baby Papasan chair you get as a baby shower gift? The one you open and think, "what in the heck will I need this for?" All three babies will spend many, many nights sleeping in there when stuffy noses, earaches, or tummy troubles require them to sleep upright. It will end up being one of your most used baby items.

The CIO sleep book you also receive as a gift? Exchange it for a copy of The No-Cry Sleep Solution. Or take bookstore credit, buy yourself a fancy latte and a muffin at the in-house coffee shop, and get some quiet writing time in while you can.

Do get a good supply of those thin receiving blankets. You will use them for many things . . . to lay the baby on, wrap the baby in, as a towel, as a burp cloth, to put under the baby for diaper changes, to cover the baby while sleeping or nursing . . . everything. Skip pretty, fluffy blankets, and definitely pass on the crib bumper (see above).

Don't buy wicker baskets. Not for putting toys in, not for storing little baby washcloths, not for anything. I know they're in all the catalog pictures, they look cute, and they have those pretty liners with the tie on the front that matches the changing table pad cover. And when you find them on clearance at Target it will be hard to resist. But . . . babies try to eat them, toddlers destroy them, and preschoolers use them as footstools. Someday you'll be pulling shards of wood out of your 15-month-old's mouth. Forget sweet and buy big, ugly, plastic bins from the get-go.

Most importantly, when E arrives, after you get through the blurry post-birth hemorrhaging fiasco, unravel the swaddling and pick her up. Hold her to your body. Do this as many hours a day as you are physically able. Someday you will regret not focusing on this skin-to-skin time until your third baby comes along. Do it for E. And for J, too.

What would you tell your first-time pregnant self?

Thanks for reading and have a blessed day.