6 years

Has it been 6 years already?  Yes, I actually know it has been.  The time goes by so fast, but then that is a lie.  The minutes, the hours that I've had with you, my darling daughter, have ticked by in my heart.  I count every heart beat, yours and mine.  I know what they mean, each second, each heart beat- it's here now, but in a moment it will be a memory, and then it's gone.  When I look back in my heart to that first year the minutes still seem to last an eternity.  I learned so much, that first year, and little did I know, but you would not change nearly as much as I have.  I mean, yes, you are bigger, you are stronger, you are more capable.  You've gone from a tiny creature that could not eat by herself, to a kid who can get herself together in the mornings with such little help from me.  But so many things that I learned about you in that first year still hold true.  You love snuggles, you are serious about eating, you don't liked to be constrained, you WILL figure this out, and you're so happy most of the time.  I, however, am nothing like the girl I was before you came to me.  I have become a snuggler, I am more serious about all things, I think less about myself but always about you, I no longer want a career or even a job other than to watch you grow, I cry more, I can't read suspenseful novels or watch movies where kids are in danger, and I love pink and frills and flowers just because you love them.
I have loved watching you grow.  It is a hard thing, being a mom, I know that you have to do all these things.  That I must give you space in order for you to grow, but I want nothing more than to hold you all the tighter as you move away from me.  I'm sorry if you think I never let you do things, but I want to spare you all the mistakes that I made, even though I know that those mistakes, those tears, paved the way for me to become who I am. 
Know that I am here for you, little one, know that I love you, and that we'll continue to grow together.  I look forward to not only who you are going to become, but to who you are going to make me into.  Happy 6th birthday, Babes, may you have 200 more! 

I'm a big kid now (or make things easier on yourself)

There's a lot out there on the internet about kid proofing your house, but not nearly as much about making your kid more independent in your home.  I put a lot of thought into making things very accessible for her so that she can do many things by herself.  None of it's perfect, and I don't think any of it is original, but I thought I would share because sometimes its good to have inspiration.  And I also know that sometimes I won't think of teaching Babes something until someone mentions it (like it only recently occurred to me that she might want to learn how to tie shoes).
Anyway, the biggest place you can help yourself out is the bathroom.  Babes potty trained at two (I can't give potty training tips because she basically trained herself, she HATES to be dirty) and I cursed myself for doing it because every hour or so I was running into the bathroom to lift her on the potty, and hold her up to wash her hands.  I eventually ended up putting in two stools, a short one so that she could climb on the potty herself, and a bigger one so that she could reach the sink to wash her hands.  Add to that a towel with a topper so that she can't pull it off the rack and after a while I only needed to spot check to make sure she was cleaning herself and washing her hands well.  I also added a hook at child height so that when she's done with her bath in the evening she can hang up her own towel. 

From Blogger Pictures

In her room, I started off by making sure that she could reach all the drawers with her clothes in them.  Which is actually not that hard since her clothes are so little that she really only needs two drawers.  We used to fight about what she could wear (starting at two WTF?) so now she generally picks out her own clothes (starting around 3).  I try to keep things in sets so that she knows what goes together and only seasonal clothes at her reach. In her closet I took a shower curtain rod and hung it at Babes' height so that she could hang up her own clothes, so whenever she takes off a jacket or a dress she's supposed to hang it up herself (it takes some teaching, putting clothes on a hanger is not intuitive).

From Blogger Pictures

  We also bought her (well actually my Mom bought her) a my Tot Clock, it has a face that changes colors and she knows that when it's blue it's night time and time to stay in bed, but when it turns yellow she can come out and get us because it's morning time.  It worked really well for Babes (I have recommended it to friends and it works for some like a miracle, but not as well for others).
In the kitchen and dining room, there aren't too many things.  I am thinking about making a shelf easily accessible that has snacks and cups, but I haven't done it.  She has just started being able to go into the fridge and get her own tiny oranges and peel them herself which is fabulous.  The only thing I would recommend is a really tall stool so that she can help out with the cooking.  With the very tall stool she can see into the bowls and really see what's going on.  But I only let her stand on it while I'm next to her, it's really tall.

From Blogger Pictures

The other thing is a booster seat for the dining room chairs.  Once again it brings her to a proper height for using forks, knives and spoons and reaching cups and having conversations. 

From Blogger Pictures

Well, that's all the tips I've got?  Do you have something that makes things easier for you? Let me know I'm always looking for tips.

Spanking

Yeah I spank! It's weird that this has become almost a dirty little secret. That people who spank are seen taking the easy way, or are being mean to their kids, or are just ignorant. BUT once I admit to it almost all parents have smacked a butt or two in their day. They are often ashamed, or taken by surprise, or... I don't know. I always knew that I wanted to use spanking as an option for my kid. Before she was born, and as she approached the age where I started to think about discipline I did a lot of thinking, reading, and observing. So when it came down to it I had already decided when I was going to use spanking (in theory). Spanking is not the automatic punishment, nor is it the last resort (I don't know what the last resort is, thankfully I haven't had to go beyond a booty smack). I use a plethora of punishments, when necessary, but frankly Babes is a good kid, most of the time I just need to stay within our set boundaries and she's pretty obedient. It's annoying, but I follow up, almost every single time. So if I say, Babes pick up your toys, and she doesn't I don't just let it be, I walk over and engage. I'm not afraid to cause a scene either. If we have to discipline in public so be it (granted I haven't had to spank her in public, usually interrupting whatever it is that she's doing is usually enough to get her attention). She screams and shouts, and if we have to we'll leave the store only to go back when she's calm again. When I do have to spank it is usually because she is testing the waters and we have been through the other punishments and they have failed, OR I have caught her getting ready to play in the outlet. If she is spanked she usually knows why she got a swift smack to the bum.

I have to say I don't regret it. Yes, there are all those studies that say kids who are spanked hit more, are not as smart, are emotionally disturbed, become sexual sadists, etc etc. But I have determined after reading a bunch of stuff on the web and in books that "the experts" don't know jack. Today they say that kids should be breastfed, yesterday kids should be fed formula, tomorrow maybe they won't have milk at all they'll just start drinking juice from birth. One expert says your kids should sleep in your bed, another says they should sleep in their own crib not anywhere near you. The fact of the matter is that it is your kid, you have to do what works for you. Spanking may not work for your kid, just like time outs don't work for everyone. You have to figure out what your kid is like and what works for you and your family. Like I figured out what works for me and my family. There are no short cuts, parenting is a hard uphill slog through thick slippery mud where you've just lost your map and can't figure out if you've already been this way or not and you're really not sure where you are going you just know that you have to keep going.

Just so you know, as I was leaving the states I heard a report on CNN that said that spanking your kids (under the age of six) could possibly raise their IQ a few points. How's that for mixed messages.

Why I do it

So DH has been extraordinarily helpful in the past couple of months and it has made my stay at home mom experience much nicer. I've been thinking about it and talking to my friends about it, and sometimes I feel a little inadequate because my grandmothers both worked full time, raised five children, cleaned and had dinner on the table every night. Keeping that in mind why should I complain about raising just one child, with little or no cleaning and lots of help from my DH?
Last night I finally hit on the answer. There are SO many other things that I could be doing. I went to school for 7 years to get a higher educational degree. I have many talents that would make me valuable to many people. Yet I choose to stay home and I believe that my special combination of talents and abilities make me MOST valuable to my family. I believe that it is an honor and a privilege to be able to stay at home with my family. That being said I want what I give to my family to be freely given, and given out of love. I don't want it tainted by what could have been or what I wish there was. My grandmothers had no choice. It was expected of them to give 150% every day. So they did it. I don't know if they enjoyed it, or always gave what they could with a smile. I know from the stories that my grandparents were tough I believed they loved their families but I don't necessarily think that their families got the best of them.
So yes, I don't vacuum everyday, take care of multiple children, and have three course meals on the table every night at 6, but I'd like to think that I try to give my family the best of me or at least give what I have to give freely and with as much love as I can on any given day. I may not always succeed, but I'd like to think that I try for the best every day. I think that the day that I stop doing that is the day that I am going to need to go back to work.

My Own Name

So I was perusing the internet the other day and I came across a post on Her Bad Mother where she is stopped at the border because she and her child do not share the same last name. And she started to wonder if she should change her last name. It made me start to think about my decision not to change my last name. When we got married I always assumed that I would be a career woman. Keeping my last name, the name that all my degrees were in, keeping my own separate professional identity was very important to me. I also am very proud of my last name, it is the name of my father, his father, and his father before that. My dad once told me, and it is the same thing that his dad told him, that the only thing he had to give was his name, it came to him unblemished, and he is giving it to me unblemished and that's the way I should keep it.
I have had many identity issues in my life. I wanted to be blond. I wanted a different first name. I may have even wanted to be a boy (you know the running, jumping, not having to wear skirts!). But I have always been attached to my last name. My last name has always been an essential part of who I am.
Now that I am actually an adult and living my life... and I am not the professional woman that I wanted to be, I am actually clinging harder to my last name. As a spouse in the foreign service I do not have my own identity. I am " 's wife" Whenever I go anywhere or need anything done I don't use my name or status it is all under his information. Maybe it's silly, but keeping my last name reminds me, if no one else, that I am my own person. I have my own talents. I am separate from my husband, intelligent, and accomplished. Perhaps someday soon I will find a way to remind everyone else too.

trapped in the past

I know I've written a post on this before, but I still think it's fascinating how our image of ourselves as adults is often limited by how others saw us in childhood. I've been watching a little reality television (a show here or there while I wait for Zora to wake up from a longer than normal nap) and I'm always struck by the self image problems that people have that have nothing to do with how they are now. For instance, the fat kid who grew up to be an attractive adult woman still carries around that fat kid persona, she hunches in on herself, won't wear certain clothes because they make her look bigger, etc. Or kids who, for whatever reason, felt like they weren't getting enough attention, as adults they jump all over people to make sure they get heard.
I have it too. I once had a party where only one person showed up (and it really wasn't because people didn't like me, I just waited too long to plan) so I am forever afraid when I invite people over that they won't come, even though that party was almost twenty years ago now. If people are just a little late I start to worry, and make deals with myself. "if one person comes it won't be so bad" or "well if they call it's fine" and I've never had this problem again, people always come, it's just the only black kid in school who can't escape the fact that she is different that I can't grow out of.
Which makes me wonder what it's going to be like for Babes. I would want to protect her from this, but protect her from what? No matter what I do there will be something that doesn't go her way. And she should learn to deal with it. If I smoothed the way for her all the time, when would she learn to handle disappointment, teasing, or unpopularity. It would be nice if I could have grown up popular, beautiful, wonderful, but then I would be a different person. The troubles that I experienced and overcame as a child helped me to be who I am. Even if I am still freaked out by children playing ball because of my ball magnet head.

Perspective

I've been reading "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down" by Anne Fadiman for my book club and I'm so depressed. I reached a point today where I just couldn't read any more. I hate it when authors of fiction or non fiction put horrific things in their book just to get a reaction. This book has some prime examples of gratuitous heart string pulling. The book is about a Hmong (small ethnic group that lived in Laos) refugee family in California that have an epileptic daughter and the gap in the culture between the family and the doctors. The author alternates between the medical story of the child and the larger backdrop of the conflict in Laos/Vietnam that ultimately led to the family claiming asylum in the US.
War is horrible. I understand that. I also understand that people do horrible things to each other during wars. And yes, personal accounts always make things more real, so I understand that a few stories are necessary. So I was fine during accounts of kids getting sick and not having medicine. Of having to leave sick and elderly parents along the road while you try to flee, or eating clothes when there is no other food. I was even ok with the story of the mom whose child starved to death in her arms because she didn't have any milk for him. But she went one further, and I'm not even going to type it because then I'd just be putting that horrible image in other people's minds, if you want to know what it was read the book.
Anyway, the whole chapter just reminded me what I sometimes forget every now and then. Kids don't really need all the extra crap that we get for them. Really they just need 1. food 2. shelter (and clothing) 3. love. All the rest is just bonus. I generally try to be reasonable, and I'm not trying to make Babes' childhood the best ever, I just want her to be well loved, healthy and reasonably stimulated. When she gets older I want her to be able to provide for herself, be well loved, and enjoy what she does. But I occasionally do freak out that she is eating from cups that have some random possibly bad for you ingredient in the plastic, or ponder for hours whether or not she should start drinking cows milk because of the hormones.... And then I read something that really makes me thankful that I even have these choices. I am so thankful that I have always been able to give Babes enough milk or food or whatever, and that I have not had to make a choice between her or me. I do not have to try to hide her, or worry about bad people finding her. I can spend all of my energy just giving her love. How wonderful is that?