Candy

Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween everyone.

…just a quick rant about piggy flu and vaccines…

Can we all take off our tinfoil hats for just a second, please?

Yes, you.

I’d like to inject some sanity back into this vaccine debate, because it’s gotten way, way, way out of hand. Rational, smart, loving people are rejecting vaccines. Rational, smart, loving people feel they are better protecting their children by saying no to vaccines.

In a handful of cases, this is true. There are those with allergies to the vaccine, those that are too young, those that have immune disorders that can’t vaccinate. Unless you are one of those people, we really need to talk.

Science is your friend. Science is not out to get you. Science and data trump internet memes and Facebook fan pages. It trumps the Mom you talked to at pick up and it trumps the story you heard while waiting in line at Target.

I want you to go read this over at Wired. We’re going to start there.

It’s long. I’ll wait.

Done reading? Awesome. Now, let’s talk. I fully understand that you are freaked out about side effects from vaccines. But again, let’s go back to the science and the data. These side effects are rare. Rare. Rare. Rare. Many of these diseases WERE rare, but since you stopped vaccinating they are making a comeback. Thanks for that.

But forget all those vaccines for school…what’s really on everyone’s mind right now is flu shots. Seasonal flu, h1n1, etc. Again, about a handful of you qualify to legitimately opt out of these shots. The rest of you are putting my children at risk. Myself at risk. My community at risk.

So you’ve decided not to vaccinate your kid. It’s what’s ‘best for your family.’ Bravo you. But I’m telling you right now if YOUR kid passes the flu to my kid, and my kid becomes seriously ill…I’m kicking your ass.

You see you may not be worried about getting the flu. You’ll take your chances, after all your children are healthy and you have no underlying conditions. You’ve heard such horrible stories (not scientific data, but stories) about so-and-so’s kid that got the vaccine and xyz happened. But you see…while your kid is fine, that kid down the street isn’t. While your kid may not have asthma, my kid does. And YOU just put my family at risk because you didn’t want to risk getting that flu shot.

The next child that dies from swine flu could be your fault.

But nevermind that, you heard from so-and-so they rushed this vaccine to the public and they are just out to make a profit. It’s not safe. It does more harm than good. It’s just too risky.

Let’s go over the facts. Here’s the major h1n1 myths debunked.

I get that it’s hip not to trust drug companies. I get that you are doing your research as a responsible parent. I am too. What I don’t get, is why you would risk getting the flu and giving it to my kid? Are you the same parent who sends their kid to school the morning after they had a fever? The day after they puked?

Vaccines help stop the spread of disease. They save lives. Please don’t casually decide to do nothing because it’s the hipster parenting move of the moment. If you choose NOT to vaccinate please have a plan to help stop the spread of the flu. Please plan to not spread it outside of your home. That plan should include NOT sending them to school until the recommended WEEK is over. Because I’m sure you care about your community and my kids too.

and then he sang to me

He heard a beautiful song at school, during quiet time. And he thought of it while driving through the desert to Las Vegas, and he thought of it again tonight while laying in bed.

Mom I have to sing it for you, you have to know what it sounds like.

Alright honey, go ahead.

Ok but don’t look at me when I sing it.

That’s fine sweetie, I won’t look.

Ok, look away now and I will sing.

So I turned my head and my son began to hum.

Every note was perfect. Like he had been reciting the song in his head for weeks, practicing for this moment. There were no words, but his instrumental didn’t need any. Even his sister, fidgeting moments before, was entranced by the music coming from her brother.

I had to peak. I knew he would be furious and stop singing if he saw me look over, but I just had to see the look on his face while this gorgeous piece of music came out of his body.

Slowly I looked at my feet instead of the wall. Then back at the wall. Then back down at my feet. I glanced once more up and down and quickly flashed my eyes in his direction.

It didn’t matter that I had looked. His eyes were sealed shut. Tight. He was concentrating on the song, his song, and clearly lost in it’s sound.

I looked up again and just stared at him, dumbfounded. Eyes sealed shut and fingers moving in the air like he was conducting an orchestra, my son sang to me.

So that’s how it goes. Do you know that song, Mom?

No honey, I don’t think I do. But it was wonderful.

I really like it Mom, I think it might be the most beautiful song in the world.

I would have to agree my love. I would have to agree.

…and PuppyDog Tails

There’s really nothing like getting a phone call from your son’s teacher at 930pm to get the blood flowing.

Puts hair on your chest, as my grandfather used to say.

Things like this really should happen on the same day you’re dealing with a …let’s call it life changing news from another relative… AND your property tax bill, but I digress.

So it seems my 6-year old thought it would be FUN to slide around on the school bathroom floor. And pop his head into a stall or two. Upon finding an older boy in one of the stalls, he also thought it would be just a HOOT to say “I kissed your sister” and laugh.

He also, apparently, finds it just HILARIOUS to flash other students. You know, running up to other kids and lifting his shirt while screaming something nonsensical and running away giggling.

The good news here? There was no actual kissing and apparently he isn’t even aware that any of that wasn’t funny or wasn’t appropriate.

Score one for parents of the year.

I’ve had certain talks with my son. But apparently I’ve missed some basics? Yes, in case you are wondering…we totally pee and stuff with doors open around here. Ok not ALL the time but the kids have been busting in on me for so long and I don’t shut the door a lot anymore.

And kissing… hmmmm. I’m blaming tv for this. iCarly I’m looking at you. I haven’t let them watch shows like that in a long while but this weekend in Vegas we did watch a few and KISSING was a main topic.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shitty. Shit. Shit.

#parentingfail

As for the flashing thing.
Don’t even look at me.

It’s really hard not to take every single milestone or teaching moment with one of my kids EXTREMELY PERSONALLY.

I realize I can’t do everything and be everything and teach absolutely everything with zero mistakes all the time. I GET THAT. But when something like this comes up I feel like the biggest parenting LOSER because it was so BASIC AND SIMPLE. How could I possibly NOT gone over these things before?

Well apparently I haven’t. And now I’m wondering what ELSE I have missed.

The other piece of good news is something the teacher mentioned on the same call. He’s a very good natured boy. It’s not like when he ‘gets in trouble’ it’s anything malicious or mean. It’s always a joke or funny or silly.

Class clown, apparently. Or at least class clown wannabe. Or maybe just outgoing. That’s how I should look at it? That he’s just extroverted and social.

I’m looking for silver linings here people, don’t mock me.

I’m not sure though. I think maybe these are just the little things that pop up in this whole ‘growing up’ process and I will deal with them as they come. And tomorrow morning we’ll talking about privacy and kissing and what’s appropriate.

Gah. Can’t wait.

Guessing I shouldn’t relay stories of having a gaggle of girls hold down a boy in Kindergarten so I could kiss him or flashing truckers in my college days.

Yeah…best to leave that out…

Amen

Show Them the World

Ahhh the places Mommy takes us #bwe09

I’ve been taking my kids with me on business trips lately. Insane? Yes. But there is a method to my madness.

Balance.

That elusive word we all cling to. That goal we all strive for. That insane dream.

Originally I had two trips planned in 10 days and bringing my kids on one was a matter of survival. If I wanted to go I really had no choice. It meant the kids were happy to be with Mom and I was happy they were near and under my control. It also took away some of the guilt for the next trip.

However it has to be one of the furthest things from ideal. It’s not practical, and it’s 40 times more work.

I told myself I was exposing them to a new place (a strip with drunken adults, hookers, really really bright lights) and travel would expand their tiny little minds. But really I was taking them to what amounted to a rather unfamily friendly place and hoping I could keep them busy.

It wasn’t ideal but it worked. Of course life, being what it is, meant my second trip was postponed and my husband ended up NOT working this weekend. They could have stayed home, I could have gone alone, none of it was necessary.

I use the term ‘It worked’ loosely. Just a quick stop into the conference center resulted in the kids running amok while I was stopped by various people to say hello.

I looked like THAT Mom. The one with the wild kids who was rude enough to bring them along. I FELT like THAT Mom.

But what those there did not realize was for that 10 minutes of chaos, I got 72 hours of calm in my life. For that tiny blink of two kids running circles around my body as I tried to talk to you… I got days of peace-of-mind.

Balance.

Over and over, before I had kids, friends and family would say “Oh when you do, you just do what you have to do” and I never really understood. Surely there were always babysitters and surely there was always a way to make it work.

No one told me that it doesn’t work more often than it does and “you just do what you have to do” happens 99.9% of the time.

99.9% of the time.

So this past weekend I did what I had to…or really, what I wanted to, on my terms. The kids were the only ones under 21 at the hotel pool and they colored on the back of business cards. We improvised. We did what we had to do.

Balance.

Up Up and Away

The 6-year old ‘BallonBoy’ everyone is talking about? Yeah…that made me throw up.

Literally. I heard, saw, turned off the tv, and vomited.

Granted I have gastroparesis and this is not a hard thing to make me do…but the thought of that child, just like my own inquisitive 6-year old, in that balloon had me an emotional disaster to the point of physical illness.

While they iron out all the details, I’m overjoyed this boy is safe and sound and will save my wrath once the verdict is in on this incident. In the meantime…I think I need to tone it down a notch.

Control my emotions? Maybe?

Not surprisingly I get this way over anything I love or am passionate about. I work myself up to the point of physical symptoms. Probably not healthy. However don’t ever doubt how I feel. I will show you with hand wringing, and lack of self control.

I will cry as I explain why I feel health care reform is so very important. I will yell and gesture wildly as I defend the President. I will vomit when a boy, just like my own, goes missing.

Passion is an amazing thing when channeled properly. And a very messy one when left unchecked.

Checking myself.

Something Old, Something New

I caught my daughter in a wedding dress today.

Playing dress up at school and oblivious her mother had entered the class and was watching, she held a pencil in her hand like a bouquet and walked in a straight line to her cubby.

I nearly threw up.

Seeing her just pretend to get married sent shivers down my spine and made my otherwise calm mind go slightly insane. My gut reaction was “NO NO NO NO NO THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT FOR YOU!”

This is the reaction of a happily married woman who has had many, many benefits from being tied to one man for the rest of her life.

This is the reaction of a girl who dreamt of her own wedding since she was her daughter’s age.

This is the reaction of a mostly sane woman who has done as she pleases through out life and supports the institution of marriage.

Slightly panicked, I asked my darling daughter to take off her play veil and dress. It was time to go home.

But Mom, don’t I look beautiful?

Yes honey but it’s time to go.

But I look beautiful, right? Just like your picture on the tv.

Again I was stopped dead in my tracks.

Of course one of our wedding photos sits atop our television and of course she’s asked to see it a million times. She has asked me about the dress, the veil, the flowers. We’ve talked about how Daddy was wearing a tuxedo with his Chucks and why Mommy wore no shoes. She sees her father dote on me. She’s never seen us fight. She has no inclining of what it means to be married and what it takes to stay married and only vaguely knows and understands the word “compromise.”

To her, a marriage is a wedding and a wedding means a fancy dress and a pretty veil and everyone telling you just how beautiful you are.

As a young girl, I can remember my father telling me over and over again that I never needed to marry. That he wanted more for me, and that I didn’t need a man. He told me this so much, that I began to think of matrimony as some far off thing “other” girls did and something I “might” do someday if I felt like it. But even during my most independent of moments, that dress and those flowers and that ring still beckoned. I wanted to be told I was beautiful and I wanted a man to love me forever and I wanted all those things and then some despite myself.

There was no rationale for it though. No coherent, logical reason. Just like there was no coherent, logical reason I nearly lost my breakfast when I saw my 4-year old dressed as a bride.

Maybe it was less about the wedding gown and more about her growing up. Maybe it was my want for her to do everything and see everything and enjoy everything before getting married and settling down.

Maybe because I am finally realizing she is not me. She does not need and want what I need and want, and there is no guarantee that what makes me happy, will make her happy.

Maybe I just realized she’s her own, tiny peanut of a girl who will do what she wants, regardless of what I say. Pencil instead of bouquet, wrinkled size 4 wedding gown, obstinate and strong headed, fighting me to keep it on, while I wrestle it off.

I may have gotten the dress off today…but I may not next time around.