From "I don't care" to activist

My speech before the freshmen went well: they cried, I cried, and we all learned a few things. Before I came to the class, the majority of them raised their hands "no" when asked "Do you think someone should check on you if you are missing for a couple of days?" At the end of my speech, the same question was asked and only two students answered "no."
Further, I had a student ask me today if she could create a Web page with Laura's story (that's Laura in the photo) and a link to Laura's Hope, a charity started to do the work Laura had planned to do. Her dream was to join the Peace Corps and work with AIDS orphans in Africa. While her family and friends aren't joining the Peace Corps in droves, we are raising money to help those children who caught her heart.
So we talked about dorm safety and the things that go on in the brand-new dorm here on campus, and the students agreed to look out for their neighbors. Several sought extra copies of the safety tips sheet I brought with me, to give to their friends. And they agreed to pass the word to their student organizations - maybe forming a "campus watch" similar to a "neighborhood watch" program. Looks like Laura turned a group of passive individuals into an active community. I think she'd be proud.
--Misty

the story I'm telling

I'm speaking on campus tomorrow to a group of freshmen who think because they're "grown" it's nobody's business what they do, where they go, and when they're comin back. I'm telling the story of my cousin, who was killed in her dorm room last December. Here's the text:

My name is Misty Cline and I work in the office of Marketing and Communications here on campus. I’m here this morning to tell you a story.
But first, I’d like to say congratulations. For many of you, beginning college is your first foray into adulthood. So, well done.
How many of you live in the Wildcat Commons?
How many of you live in another dorm on campus?
How many of you have your own apartments?
Living on your own, another big step into adulthood. Congratulations.
But I promised you a story.
And the story I’m here to tell is one of another young adult, like yourselves, who stepped out of her parents’ home for the first time to attend college. Far enough away from her hometown that she had to live on campus, but not so far away she couldn’t come home for a long weekend, or that her hometown boyfriend couldn’t come visit.
Laura settled into her new life as a first-semester freshman. She joined an athletic team. She made friends, attended classes, did all the things you are doing now. And then, the week before finals, she disappeared.
She went to a Secret Santa party with her rowing teammates on the night of December 12. She drove a couple of teammates home, returned to her own dorm room, and talked to her boyfriend on the phone. She logged onto her Facebook account and looked at some photos from the party she had just attended. Then she went to bed.
Two and a half days later, her dad finally convinced someone in the University administration that not hearing from his daughter for two days was not normal. That not getting phone calls, or e-mails, from her in two days was not normal.
And I can’t tell you how many times we get that phone call from YOUR parents. Either the President’s office, my office in Marketing, but especially the Student Affairs office. A couple of times a day, someone in Fort Valley State University’s administration gets a phone call from a frantic parent, desperate to find one of you. And then we have to embarrass everyone by tracking you down, in class, in your dorms, in your friends’ rooms.
And now that I’ve gone and interrupted my story, I have to tell you that now that you’re adults, you have some responsibilities you might not have expected. You have the responsibility to show up for class, if that’s where you’re supposed to be. You have the responsibility to show up at parties and group events, if you’ve told someone you’ll be there. You have the responsibility to answer your phones and return messages. Because when you don’t, other responsible adults worry about you.
I promise you, if I drop off the grid, people will notice. If I don’t show up to work, my boss is going to call my cell phone. And if she doesn’t get an answer from my phone, she’s going to call my husband’s phone. And if he calls me and doesn’t get an answer, then he’s going to leave his work and come find me. If I don’t show up at my sorority events, someone is going to call me. If I say I’ll be at a party, and then change my mind and don’t go, the host will call me at some point, not just to bawl me out for not being there, but to find out why I wasn’t there. So, as a responsible adult, if I’m not going to be somewhere I’ve promised I will be, I have to call. My boss, the doctor, the party host, whomever I have an appointment with, I call. Okay, if I don’t want to talk to them, I e-mail, but hey, I make contact.
Because a responsible adult doesn’t just “get missing” and not tell someone where they are going and when to expect them back. As an adult, you may not be living with your parents anymore, but you are still part of a community. Those of you living in the Commons, you are a community. If you live in an apartment, you are part of a community. In this class, you are part of a community.
And that brings me back to Laura, and my story.
Missing two days, and no one at her school bothered to check after her. A girl who normally is in every class suddenly misses two days the week before finals, and her professors don’t raise any kind of alarm. Her friends just assumed she was either sleeping or studying. Her suitemate, a girl she shared a bathroom with, didn’t think anything of her sudden absence. She did, however, notice a funny smell in the bathroom.
So, instead of knocking on Laura’s door and saying, “hey, what’s that smell, did you leave something in here?” she cleaned the bathroom.
When that didn’t take care of the smell, she thought it might be a broken sewage pipe. So she calls housekeeping.
It’s December 15 and Laura’s dad has finally talked University officials into opening Laura’s room. But the housekeepers beat the administration to the door. Laura’s in her room, alright. She’s been lying on the floor, dead, for two and a half days.
Laura’s community failed her. Not only did they not check on her when she went missing, they failed her in a larger sense. They let her killer into her living space.
Laura was sexually assaulted and murdered. There’s more to the story, but this is the part that affects you:
Those of you who live in an apartment: if you saw someone hanging outside your apartment door, would you let them in when you opened your door?
Those of you who live in a dorm, why do you let people who don’t have a key in? And I know you do it. You’re going into the Commons, someone is suddenly right on your heels. Instead of turning around and asking “Do you live here?” you let them tailgate into your living space. In some cases, you hold the door for them! Your buddy calls – “I’m outside, come let me in” – and you do. But when he leaves your room, do you walk him out, to make sure he leaves the dorm? Like your “boys” all you want, but know that some of them can’t be trusted.
Ever prop your door open for a visitor you’re expecting? Your boyfriend is getting out of class before you and wants to just meet you in your room? Unh uh. He should meet you at YOUR class and walk you home, ladies. Waiting for your cousin to drop by? Your cousin can wait for you in a common area, you don’t prop your door open so they can “come on in.”
Laura’s killer wasn’t supposed to be in any of the dorms at her school – he’d been kicked out for dealing pot. But the night she was killed, police found security video of not one, not two, but three of his buddies letting him into different dorms, through different entrances. Stairway entrances, not the main ones with RA’s on duty to sign visitors in.
But no one let him into Laura’s dorm. At least, no one he asked to let him in. He tailgated into her dorm behind a student who opened the door with a key. Then he went to the fifth floor – not the first, not the second or third or fourth – the fifth. He took the stairs, which opened right in front of her room. He broke into her room, suffocated her, and sexually assaulted her body. When he left, he took her keys so he could lock the door from the outside.
And no one checked on her for two full days. Even with a funny smell in their common bathroom, Laura’s suitemate didn’t think anything of not seeing the girl she lived next door to and spoke to almost every day.
If I accomplish nothing else today, I want you to not leave here that naiive. I want you to accept the responsibility that comes with being a part of a community of grown adults. That means you care about each other. It means you pay attention to each other. It means you communicate with each other. If you don’t, well that’s a whole ‘nother kind of warning sign. Remember, the one thing generally acknowledged about the Virginia Tech shooter was that he didn’t talk to anybody. He deliberately wasn’t part of any community.
So if you don’t see your buddy for a couple of days, find out why. If your suitemates suddenly drop off the grid - and you live with them, you know what’s “normal” – don’t ignore it.
Likewise, if you’re going to “get missing” for a couple of days – we all need vacations – tell someone when to expect you back. I was 24, decided to drop out for a long weekend. Didn’t want my parents knowing where I was going, but I gave my roommate my flight information. In my case, if the plane went down I wanted someone to know I was on it! But if I didn’t return on time, she’d have raised the alarm.
Now why am I so adamant about this? Why do I care what happened to some girl not on this campus, not even in Georgia?
Laura was my cousin. Her dad raised me until I was three. He has a part of my heart. And losing his only daughter has broken his heart.
Further, Laura’s killer is still free. Because no one checked on her, because she lay for two days in a hot room, her body decomposed to an extent where evidence that could have been used to convict her killer was destroyed. Real crime isn’t like CSI: fingerprints don’t stay where they are placed forever; evidence of assault is destroyed when a body isn’t found right away.
So it’s possible Laura’s killer will not be convicted for his crime. And while her death is his fault, several people share the blame in her tragedy. The person who let him tailgate into her dorm, for example. The suitemate who couldn’t be bothered to check on her. The administration that took two days of convincing to open her door. Laura’s community failed her, and now I’m here telling you her story so you don’t fail your community.
I know you’re grown. I know you don’t want anyone checking up on you. I know you aren’t yet comfortable checking up on anyone else. But if you’re going to be an adult, you have a job to do. And that is to take care of yourselves and the people who care about you. So answer your phones. Return your messages. Be where you say you’re going to be. And when you take a vacation from your life, let someone know when to look for you back. Don’t just be grown up, be an adult.

Feel free to share.
--Misty

Tying one on in celebration

Hooray! Faith can now tie her shoes. After she struggled last year, she finally has it down. I admit we haven't been diligent in helping her learn as we had this right hand-left hand compatibility problem. But somehow, she's got it down now. Amazingly, while she couldn't quite remember how to get the loops just right over the past few months, somehow she didn't forget that one of us must have mentioned a trip to the prize closet somewhere along the way. While Matt and I didn't recall, Faith insisted we offered the reward. She's not one to lie and her memory has newer batteries than ours, so she was able to pick out a coloring kit from the closet. I stash goodies I've picked up over time and dole them out when needed. Now our mission is to get her riding her bicycle without training wheels. While recently visiting relatives we stopped at garage sale and found a big girl bike in really good condition as her training bike is almost too small. A tumble over the handle bars slowed her progress on that old bike and she's moving slowly on her new bike as long as we hold on to her. The pressure is now on as we just found out her cousin who is more than a year younger recently took off his training wheels and started flying! While still on the phone, my husband told Faith the good news about cousin Conrad. "Uncle John took of his training wheels and he just flew," Daddy said. Without missing a beat or conceding defeat she asked: "Did you tell them about my shoelaces?"

- Liz Fabian

out of the Halloween loop

I have to admit Halloween has snuck up on me this year. Daniel decided he wanted to wear last year's costume, so I just haven't paid much attention. What are your little monsters going as? I hear Supergirl costumes are hard to come by. Is that because Smallville brought the character on board? What's going on in the goblin world this year? Let me know if you want to post photos of your best costume efforts.
--Misty

Sleeping like a baby?

Daniel has never been a great sleeper. As a baby, dad would put him to bed and I'd get homa about 1 a.m. to feed him. That 1 a.m. wake-up call continued until he was about 3. When he finally started sleeping through the night, he stopped taking naps. And I mean any nap at all. His day care and preschool teachers had a time with that! Every other child in the room asnooze on their mats, and my child tearing through the library area.
Well, he's stepped it up to another level. On a Saturday night two weeks ago, and again last Friday night, the child did not go to sleep. And I mean at all. Up all night, destroying his room in a flurry of activity, keeping me up with him. This past Friday night, I finally collapsed about 4:30, leaving him playing happily in his room and trusting that I'd hear him if he opened his bedroom door.
I though surely this must be a side effect of the ADHD medications we have him on. And thus I made an appointment with his doctor. But no, the doc says, if it were the meds we'd be going through this every night. More likely, he has allergies.
What?
It's like this, stuffy nose, lay down, can't breathe, so he gets back up. And the party's on.
So we tried some allergy medication before bed last night. And lo and behold, we all slept like babies.
--Misty

Splintering the family

When driving up the driveway last night I noticed an open window in the bathroom. "Mommy stop," I heard Faith's voice call out. I stopped the car and put it in reverse to get back to the open window. "Mommy I have a splinter and Daddy wants to use a needle to get it out. I'm hiding here in the bathroom so please come and get me," she said with only the top half of her face showing out the window. She was genuinely afraid of the needle, but I couldn't help but laugh at her desperate tactic of barricading herself in the locked room. When I told my husband what was going on, he laughed too as he didn't realize where she had gone. While in the bathroom, she got the tweezers and managed to get the little shard out of her foot, but was still afraid her daddy would want to "operate" anyway. My mind flashed back to those days of my mother striking a match and burning the tip of a needle for her own splinter-ectomies. If only I had known about hiding in the bathroom...

- Liz

When it doesn't sound so simple

As Faith struggles to learn to read, I've been telling her to sound out the words. That's fine when you hit something as straight forward as "cat." But what about when it comes to a word like "was?" Phonetically it should be spelled "wuz." When she struggled with the word "that" she was sounding it out as "t-hat" instead of putting the t&h together as one sound. I don't mean to confuse her but I can imagine that's how she feels. Last night when she was reading to us, I noticed there are words that she has learned that she stumbles over. I told her there are many words that you just have to memorize and forget about sounding them out. What's even more dangerous is that I see her get frustrated that she doesn't know these words. Then she gets discouraged. I really want her to be open to learning and not shut herself down. She wanted to give up as she was reading her book. Now I am want to come up with a way to motivate her to continually study her list of words. She has a tendency to think she already knows words she learned a couple of weeks ago, so she doesn't want to review. Perhaps setting up a regular time to study even when she doesn't have homework will help her on her way. Any ideas on how to spell relief?

-Liz

out of pocket

I've been distracted all this week - the trial in my cousin's death started Monday and is being broadcast on Court TV. So I've been glued to the computer, just not BlogSpot.
--Misty

The name game

Naming your child is probably the most personal thing you can do for them - aside from giving birth. So when everyone asks a pregnant woman "Have you picked a name?" (I'm guilty of this!) and then proceeds to offer their opinion on that name, I know it's got to work the expectant mom's nerves. Chris and I picked Daniel's name, but we also picked a girl name because we opted to not find out gender in advance. And of course, we didn't tell anyone the names we had chosen, either. It drove the grandmas-to-be a little crazy, but unitl she was born doctors swore my sister was going to be my brother, so I was quite content to not get anyone's hopes up (including mine).
I'm thinking about names this morning after a discussion with my adoption class. Up to what age is it OK to change a baby's birth name? We're adopting an older child, so the question is moot for us. He'll come with the name he's got and we'll learn to love it. But there was heavy discussion in class.
What do you think?
--Misty

Birth announcements

Want us to feature your new addition? Send me a pic and all the stats:
mistytamara@yahoo.com
and your little bundle will get his or her own post.
--Misty

Guilt trippin'

A comment on my "old school" blog came at the right time. When I dropped Daniel off at the day care this morning, he went all clingy on me. And there's nothing like a healthy dose of guilt to start my work day off right.
I like working. I don't do well sitting at home all day with laundry and housekeeping. And while I wish I could be home when Daniel gets out of school, he enjoys his afterschool program and the friends he makes there. As an only child, that's his primary social life with kids his age. And I can't tell you what a relief it is with my new job, to be able to actually pay all my bills and have money for things like the "Day With Thomas" event coming up this month. So I'm going to be a working mom for all of Daniel's little life.
But I find balance and, in that balance, comfort. For Daniel's first three years, I worked at night and my husband worked during the day. Daniel didn't have to go to day care during that time. And I feel like we are closer for having had that time together. And because he knows mommy works, he knows he has to "work," too. His work is school. He has to do well at his job, just like I have to do well at mine. And he understands chores, too. I have work at the house, he has work at the house. So I feel like I am teaching him something there.
And that's nothing against stay-at-home moms. Some of the hardest-working women I know are SAHMs. And don't get me started on homeschooling moms. To run a household AND teach? Your own children? God Bless you. As much as I love Daniel, being with him 24-7 tends to make me a little nutty.
So I choose to work. And I'll accept the guilt that comes with dropping him off at day care when he's not in school. Because not two minutes after I walk out of the room (I know, I've sneaked a peek) he's happily playing and making new friends.
--Misty

old school

I waited until yesterday to tell Daniel he wouldn't be going to school this week. That instead he would be going back to his "old school" at Children's Friend this week.
"The whole week?" he exclaimed, counting off the days. Yep, the whole week. And, I sweetened the pot, you'll get to see Ms. Melinda again.
So this morning as we stepped into the day care, I wasn't expecting any problems. Silly mommy. HE clung to my leg, acting like he was 3 again instead of my confident kindergartener. He hid shyly behind me in a move from days long past. And I couldn't leave without giving him a big hug, just like when he used to go to that school every day. Amazing, the things that pop back up.
So, Houston County moms, what are you doing with your young this week? Wish I could take the week off with him, but it's Homecoming in the Valley, so I'll likely be putting in longer hours, not shorter.
--Misty

moms online, unite!

As part of my "homework" for this blog, I belong to some other online moms groups. Also, I drop in on a few sites designed for moms regularly. But I've noticed an unnerving trend on some of them (you know which ones they are):
Moms, and women in general, use the comments and features on these sites to complain about their men. On one site, a woman asked "what's the one thing your spouse does that drives you crazy?" And oh, did she get answers! Some of these women, it seemed, didn't like anything about their men! One actually replied "the list would be shorter if you'd asked what he does that doesn't drive me crazy."
Here's the thing: If you've got a partner, a helpmate, a husband who does hubandly things and lightens you load, shouldn't you be - for the most part - happy you have that helper?
Now I'll grant you I've done my share of raving about Chris on this post and to my girlfriends in person. And yeah, he's human and he screws up occasionally. Guess what - so do I. So do you. So do our kids. But last night, when I got after him an hour after asking him to unload the dishwasher and he was lurking in the living room watching "Grey's Anatomy" with me, he said "I'll get to it. I'll unload the clean dishes and load the dirty - after all, you've been doing laundry all night." Well, hallelujah. He noticed!
So if you've got nothing nice to say about your man, maybe it's time to have a discussion with said man. Venting your spleen online isn't going to solve your problem.
Or am I wrong?
Feel free to comment...
--Misty

Homework hassles

My latest parenting challenge comes in helping my daughter with homework. When she goes over her schoolwork, she is supposed to practice the answers she gets wrong. The other day, she forgot her practice so we made it up the next day. Faith nearly filled the lined page with repeated letters she had previously gotten backwards and corrected her spelling words. "Mommy, how do you spell sorry?" she asked me. I proceeded to help her spell out - "I'm sorry for not doing my practice." She signed it - "Love, Faith." Although I didn't ask as she was writing, yesterday I asked if the teacher had asked her to write the apology. No, Faith had done that on her own. "What did your teacher say about your practice?" I asked. "I forgot the paper," Faith replied. "I had to do it over." I couldn't believe she didn't make it to school with the paper that was with her folder when I left for work that morning! I'm still not sure what happened to it. If only her teacher had seen that sweet little note. I've got to find a way to increase Faith's concentration. She's been such an intelligent and mature child that I'm surprised when these things are overlooked. We are still struggling with transposing some letters and numbers. On one of her papers, the teacher wrote she was going to start taking points off for those infractions. "But that's the way I make them," Faith said. But that's not the "right" way. Let's hope practice makes perfect.

- Liz

hexed

I've come to believe a Higher Power is telling me Chis and I are not meant to adopt. Of course, that isn't stopping us. But consider the evidence:
Our DFCS coordinator has taken ill and we're being "contracted out" to someone we haven't even met, or heard from, yet. Other couples are done with their first home visits!
There was the whole incident with Daniel's teacher reporting us for suspected abuse. While the DFCS investigator had no trouble filing it as an unfounded suspicion, it still made both myself and Chris leery of the System.
I had pneumonia and the inhalers I was given made my drug test come back positive. A more detailed test - on my hair - came back negative, but still.
My TB skin test came back with a false positive. Turns out I have been exposed to someone with TB, so my blood carries the antibodies that make the skin test come up just a little. The health department says I don't have TB, so I've been cleared, but come ON!
All of our fingerprints were erased in Atlanta. They are taken digitally with this testy little machine, then transported to ATL to be put in the DFCS system. Only someone hit the wrong button. So we're retaking the prints.
I mean, really. Is Someone trying to tell us we're not ready for another child or am I just hexed?
--Misty

Caught in the act of Googling

My little girl entered the world of Googling today. "Mommy, how do you spell art?" "Mommy how do you spell games?" Those were the questions she asked from the office this afternoon. So where do you find good art projects and activities on the Internet? I'm sure she's looking for interactive sites where she can draw or color on the computer. Her Google search of arts and games for kids turned up only articles , but no place to play. (If anyone has any suggestions, we'd love to hear.)Just a few minutes before, Faith asked me how do you spell mall. It seems Barbie lost her rabbit and Faith thinks it must be at the mall. "Barbie always likes to go to the mall," Faith explained as she typed the letters into Barbie.com. Writing and reading can now take my daughter anywhere she wants to go. And it should be no surprise "mall" would be one of the first words she typed other than her name. She is a girl isn't she? Today turned into a Kodak moment, so I snapped a shot of her at her first Google page. Isn't that cute... the Google Scholar page font is in Crayola four-pack colors. Thank goodness she came along before crayons became obsolete. Today was a transistion day in more ways than one. After I told Faith I'd blog to ask other moms if they knew of any good sites, she suggested I blog about her "angel baby kitten" who is such a "dreamer" and "fell asleep on my ankle last night." Her words were uttered in the softer songlike voice she uses to talk to her "baby." Her delivery is much like you'd hear from a great aunt leaning over a bassinet. She petted the purring, nearly full grown "baby" and came to read over my shoulder. Uh-oh. Now I'm really busted in this blog. She'll soon be able to read EVERYTHING. As I started typing, she came over my shoulder and read aloud the first three words. Her little voice asked "my little girl? Ughhh..., " her voice trailed off as she walked away. My BIG girl? I'm really in trouble now. Parlais-vous francaise? Maybe that would buy me a few more years.
- Liz

Recalls, recalls everywhere

More toys have been recalled today because of lead in the paint. So I've added to out clickable links at your right the government's Consumer Product Safety site. Check it out, then check out your kids' rooms.
--Misty

Working our way through the System

I put System in capitalization for a Reason. (Ever think that way? Big stuff gets a big letter!)
No, really, any time I'm talking about the Government or DFCS, I think in capital letters. And yep, the System I'm talking about is DFCS.
Those of you who have been with us a while might recall Chris and I are going through the adoption process with DFCS to "get" Daniel a brother. Because I have no desire to go through parenting an infant again, and because there are lots of older kids who wind up in the System and need homes, we're trying to adopt.
You might also recall that a few weeks ago Daniel's teacher reported us to DFCS for suspected child abuse after he had a particularly active night and went to school with both a bump on his head and a black eye (yes, I really do want another boy - I think). The DFCS investigator decided it was just a case of a boy being a boy and we hadn't done anything wrong. So that was case closed yesterday morning. It took him a while to actually close the case because, even in a deferrment case (that's what it's called when the suspicions are unfounded) there's paperwork.
But he's just in time. We have two more classes, then a case worker will visit the house and make her report to say whether or not we should be granted a child. We've been every Saturday and learned about different kinds of child abuse, the different ways our new son could be damaged, and how we can recognize and help him grow to cope with the things that have happened in his past. We've also discussed discipline and different techniques we can use with both Daniel and his new brother. Contrary to popular belief, DFCS isn't against spanking. You can spank your own kids. But you can't spank a kid who's been through the DFCS system. Because hey, maybe hitting a child who's been abused in the past isn't the best of ideas. I can get behind that.
--Misty

Holy Homework expletive, Batman

Out of the mouths of babes, off times can be gems. But from the homework pencil a misplaced letter can be disastrous. While going over homework in Faith's folder, I noticed her misspelling of the word "hits." Yes, she put an "s" at both ends of the word as she tried to write "The cat hits the hat." I wonder if it was by coincidence that the teacher sent this particular paper home for us to look over. Aside from chuckling with friends, we didn't explain the nature of the error to Faith, just that she misspelled the word. We'll save the whole story for future embarrassment.

- Liz Fabian

False alarm!

Guest post...

When someone tells you that no two pregnancies are alike, believe them!
I'm about 2 1/2 weeks away from my due date right now. Last night, I thought my water had broken. So after spending three hours at Coliseum, mainly in the waiting area watching Spongebob and Home Improvement, we were told,nope
its not amniotic fluid, go home.
My mother, who lives in Florida, was relieved because she wants to be therewhen the baby is born. Since my firstborn was only a seven hour labor, I'm hinking she'll need to speed to make it in time for the event.
The problem with labor is that I can't predict WHEN its going to happen. Youmake all these plans and get all this gear and then you wait. And wait. And eople ask, when are you leaving, when are you due, boy you are big aren't ou? My favorite is, you look like you could go at any time. Officially now I can go into labor without a problem. After 37 weeks, a baby is considered term.
After all the excitement of last night, I have to think it was just a way to get a practice run in. Good thing, too, since I hadn't packed a whole lot, nor had I thought to make a list of things that I needed to take. I wandered around the house for a good 45 minutes trying to decide what I wanted to take.
With my first, I had gone to the doctor for a regular appointment, who decided that I was in labor, told me he was planning to induce me anyways and off I went to the hospital where they broke my water and gave me pitocin.
Here's to hoping that the next time I end up in the hospital its not a false alarm again!
--Anglea

more on reading

I've never really had to worry about creating a reader out of Daniel. Unlike most homes nowdays, our house could double as a library (if it weren't for the air hockey table in the living room, that is.
While my friends and relatives have been expanding thier electronics catalogs, I have been buying books. There's not an x-box or wii to be seen, but Daniel has his own bookshelf full of Thomas the Tank Engine and Dr. Seuss books. On the higher shelves are books for him to grow into - books from my childhood.
He sees myself and his dad reading all the time - books, magazines, comics even. And he's still at that age where he wants to be doing whatever we're doing. So sometimes I'll have him "read" by himself, where he makes up stories to go along with the pictures in the books, and sometimes I'll read to him. The challege is getting him to pick one or two books - he wants me to read all ten that he brings me!
--Misty

The competitive edge in learning

It's amazing how fast Faith has embraced reading. All it took were a few words to encourage her - words she overheard her parents saying that actually could have discouraged her. We have been reading to Faith since before she could talk and were a little concerned with her teacher's report that she wasn't reading as she should. While Matt and I were talking, Faith must have heard us say the teacher was surprised she wasn't reading better given her skill level in other areas in the classroom. Immediately she chose a book to start reading to us. Plus, when I picked up Faith at school the other day, she wanted to know if we were running errands. When I told her we needed to buy groceries she was disappointed she couldn't go home and read. WHAT? She wanted to go READ? Fantastic. I turned the car around and took her home. I could shop later. We have been waiting for the day we could tell her to turn off the Disney Channel and go read. That day is here. Although she still struggles, she's catching on rapidly. I honestly believe she was challenged by not living up to others expectations of her. I hope this trend continues and she will be motivated to always do her best and reach her potential for success. I hope this enthusiasm continues. I think a trip to the library is in order.

- Liz

Starburst success

It took me a while, but I hit upon the key to getting Daniel to take any pill.
Starburst candy.
The little squares are soft enough that I can cut off a piece and mold it around his medicine. The flavor is stron enough to get his saliva flowing and he can just swallow the candy whole. At first, I rewarded him with a second, pill-free slice of the candy, but now he just swallows one piece and moves on with his day.
So much for my "no sugar" edict, but hey, whatever works.
As far as the medication goes, Daniel has only had one "bad" report home since he started on the medication. So the fidgeting, squirming, jumping, kicking, throwing, disobedient Daniel has learned to control all those impulses. And while he's able to finish tasks I give him at home, he's still my little chatterbox. Just with a cleaner room.
--Misty

don't say "cheese"

Just in time for those annual christmas-card portraits (yes, it's that time again) and back-to-school pictures, BabyCenter has come up with some really good advice for taking family portraits and candids of our kids.
The first thing they recommend is NOT to formally pose everybody and command "say cheese!" Have you noticed the wierd smiles you get out of kids that way? Daniel mugs for the camera, and I confess to sometimes pretending to snap the shot he wants me to take while I wait for him to return to his play. THEN I actually start shooting, and I get much better pictures that way. It's no big deal for me to sit still and wait, watching for the moment when he turns toward the camera with an excited "Look what I'm doing!" smile. THAT's the shot I want. And one of my favorite portrait-studio shots of the two of us doesn't have either one of us looking at the camera. We're facing each other, laughing into each other's eyes.
BabyCenter also reminds us of the benefits of going digital. I remember one of Daniel's early photo sessions - I wanted a great shot for his first birthday. THe photographer took 350 photos! But sure enough, there was one that I glanced at and said "That's it." Sure, I had three or four others that I liked and was able to make a scrapbook page out of, but that one photo was the money shot. So don't expect to take one or two pictures and get what you want.
Baby Center also recommends the following:
Don't go for perfection. Our kids aren't perfect - it's better sometimes to see the "real" family. This approach is especially great with kids (and grownups)who hate having their photo taken anyway.
Do go outside. I love taking pictures of Daniel in trees. Maybe it's just because climbing trees is such a boy thing. MAybe it's the way the light plays through the leaves on his blond hair. Maybe it's just because he's so darn HAPPY. Whatever, everybody looks good in early-morning and late evening light. It's almost better than candlelight.
When the kids get tired of the photo shoot, give them a break. You're not going to get good shots with unhappy campers anyway. And who knows, turning them loose to play might net you the shot you're looking for. Because taking pictures shouldn't be a chore.

For more useful advice on photography, check out Danny Gilleland's blog "Almost in Focus." Go to Macon.com and click on the link.
--Misty

bummed boy and Grandparent's Day

Grandparent's Day was Sunday, Sept. 9. Well, today, Daniel's class is having a Grandparents' tea. Only Daniel's grands live in Texas, Virginia, and Jackson respectively. And his "pop-pop" works the long hours of a truck driver. So he won't have a grandparent at Grandparent's tea, and he's all kinds of sad about it.
Awww, baby.
So tomorrow I'll be taking him to Jackson for some quality time with papaw - and by Monday I'm sure he'll ahve forgotten all about it.
--Misty

Important recall information

With tragic reports of children being killed or maimed by recalled products, the government wants parents to be informed. Although many of the recalls make the news, often they are overlooked. Plus used toys that had been recalled can be purchased at yard sales to unknowing parents. This morning I saw a television report that announced two Web sites where you can sign up for e-mail recall alerts. You can find information at www.recalls.gov or www.cspc.gov for the Consumer Product Safety Commission. If you have a doubt about toy, crib or carseat, you can always do a computer search to see if anything comes up about recalls. Stay safe and have a good day.

- Liz Fabian

protecting the boy

Daniel's rough and tumble. He's all boy and all the bumps and bruises that come with. So when we had a bad night last week and he both bumped his head turning somersaults and got hit in the eyeglasses when I opened his bedroom door (he was standing right behind it), I joked with my coworkers that his teachers were going to call DFCS on me for beating my kid.
They did.
So this week I find myself treating the kid like glass. After all, if the case worker finds more bruises when he comes back, I could lose my kid, right? So I'm letting him rot his brain by watching tv, he's spent some quality time playing Legos (made a pretty impressive slide, complete with handrails) and holding my breath until DFCS returns. Daniel seems to think he doesn't have to listen to me or Chris, and he certainly doesn't think he has to obey. It's been harrowing.
And I wonder if I'm protecting the boy, or doing harm by letting him see that DFCS has the power to scare me.
--Misty

Mommy inked

From "Inked" to "Miami Ink" to "L.A. Ink," tv shows about tattoo artists have helped a hot trend go mainstream. And BabyCenter reports this morning that moms are among the big wave of Americans embracing permanent body art.
I have to say, that when I got my tattoo (Daniel's name along with mine and Chris' in Greek lettering around my ankle), no one freaked out. Even now that I'm working in conservative academia, whenever someone asks about my tattoo and I explain it, the response has been "how sweet." So I guess tattooing has really become mainstream, and moms are definitely keeping up with the times.
What would you get to represent your kids? Pretend for a moment that it's not permanent and your mother wouldn't have a hissy. Just daydream - then share!
--Misty

Consignment sale alert

I happened upon the Kidz Replay consignment sale today by noticing a flyer in the window of Kangaroo Bob's as I dropped Faith off for a party. There's still plenty of clothes on the cheap so you have plenty of time. Plus Saturday is always half-price day. I might have waited until then, but I'm committed to helping move a friend Saturday morning. Here's the scoop, the sale is in the Riverstreet Corners plaza behind Natalia's on Riverside Drive in Macon. It's not far from the Pierce Avenue exit on I-75. They have set up in a vacant store next to Lipson's Fabrics. The sale is open from 9 a.m. until 1 p.m. on Friday and Saturday from 8 a.m. until noon. Sorry about the short notice. Organizer Becky Oliver told me she had sent me a notice through Middle Georgia Moms, but we figured out she sent it to WMAZ. She had Googled "Middle Georgia Moms" and got Channel 13's website - which is what I feared when Channel 13 named their new segment with the same name as our nearly two-year-old blog. The "Straight from the Heart" folks knew about our blog when they chose the name, I'm told by a newsroom insider. So I suppose they were trying to create confusion and draw from our readers. Otherwise, I can't figure out why a television station that previously had a moratorium on the term "Middle Georgia" in favor of "Central Georgia" would choose the name. Oh well, my mother always told me "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," but from my experience with their management style, I doubt they were trying to be kind. I'm just sorry you all missed out on the early days of the sale. The Martha Bowman MOPS consignment sale is coming up later this month. Mark your calendar for the public sale Sept. 21 and 22 at the Hephzibah Children's Home on Zebulon Road across from Lake Wildwood. Friday's hours are from 9 a.m. until 7 p.m. with Saturday's half-price day from 8 a.m. until noon. If you are interested in scheduling an appointment to bring clothes to sell, you can call Kim at 478-986-5669. Both sales are really great so happy shopping.

- Liz Fabian

harder on mom

We've always known Daniel has ADHD. So does anyone who spends more than five minutes in his presence. It's that bad. But until now, I've resisted medicating him. I am afraid it will change his personality.
But after our confrence with his teacher last week, it started to sound like now might be the time.
"He's smart," she said. "And I think he WANTS to be good, but he can't help himself."
I know what she means - he doesn't want me to take away his Thomas trains for in-school misbehavior. He doesn't want to lose chewing gum and tv-watching privileges. But when I look him in the eye and tell him to do something (or more often tell him to STOP doing something) I can see the war between his brain and his body. And the extra energy surging through his system wins every time.
So today we started medication.
And if I didn't already feel bad enough, it took me half an hour to get him to swallow the pill. I tried yogurt, I tried juice, I tried threading it in a cheerio.
"I'll be good without the pill, momma," my little cherub assured me.
Oh, God, somebody just shoot me.
Trust me baby, getting you to take that pill is harder on mom than it is on you.
--Misty

My poster child

The day has come. I walked into Faith's room yesterday and saw a poster taped to her wall. Smiling back at me were the faces of the cast of Disney's High School Musical 2. My husband picked up a copy of USA Weekend last month that featured articles about the blockbuster musical. He wanted to read the articles to her as a way of inspiring her fledgling reading, but she initially had no interest, he said. Now, after she's seen the sequel, she zealously rediscovered the newspaper magazine and its poster. Still, seeing the image of that poster on her wall was jarring. My daughter is a premature tween. As a young child, I didn't tack posters on my wall. They didn't jive with my wallpaper's miniature roses. I did make an exception for Rocky Balboa in the seventies but I was already well into my teens. I do take some consolation that my child is more interested in the girls in the movie than the boys at this point. But I know it won't be long before she starts getting starry eyes over the current teen idols. I'm not sure exactly when The Monkees' Davy Jones first caught my eye, but I was Faith's age when they were on television. Then came my crushes on Donny Osmond and David Cassidy. I even had a real "boyfriend" who brought me gifts at Valentine's Day when I was in the first and second grades. Now that I think of it, Faith is probably right on track, it's just a little faster track than Mommy would like for her baby.

- Liz Fabian

fat matters

As the mom of the skinniest kid around - and as a woman severely limiting her fat intake - I was interested when BabyCenter popped an article into my e-mail "Is your child getting enough fat?"
I knew about babies needing more fat than adults. I had my gallbladder out six weeks before I got pregnant with Daniel and my OB had a fit over my strict diet. I had cut out all fat - even went to skim milk - on the advice of my surgeon, and didn't gain a pound until I was six months' pregnant. That's not to say I didn't gain baby weight, I was just losing it from other places thanks to my new eating habits.
And after Daniel was born, his pediatrician made sure I was giving him whole milk after he was weaned. Whole milk for at least the first two years, because babies' brains need the fat in natural foods like milk and fish to develop properly.
And as Daniel has grown - and grown, and grown - I've watched over his diet and worried. Typical kid, he'd rather eat pretzels than lunch and pasta constitutes dinner in his world. But he's also a big salad fan and I'm pretty pleased that he'll try just about anything.
So the bottom line is BabyCenter isn's recommending sugary and junk foods, but they are saying kids need more fatty foods than adults - until they're at least 8. They really do have more energy than us, and they're burning it pretty fast.
--Misty

Mommy are we there yet?

I expect DFACS at the door at any time to talk to me about child abuse. We drove three hours in the car yesterday and Faith couldn't watch any movies. You would have thought we were making her wear short shorts and sit on black vinyl seats in the sun on a triple-digit day. I never heard her complain about anything so much. We had decided to take my car - the one without the movie screens - as it gets much better gas mileage than my husband's large van. "But I'm going to be soooo bored," Faith kept whining as we packed our suitcases. Poor thing. My husband pointed out we didn't even have videos growing up. We saw movies in the theater and waited a lifetime until they came out on television. Trying to make the best of her dismal situation, she grabbed her "laptop," a computerized learning game and worked all the way to Atlanta. She did pause to check out the tall buildings which is ironic because I just wrote about the skyline for today's Southern Sunday column in The Telegraph. I told you our minds are mysteriously linked at times. She noticed the Marriott's base was larger than its top. My husband told her we'll take her there some time and go inside. He's trying to foster a career in architecture, we'll see. Dancer seems to be tops on her short list right now. Perhaps it's the influence of "High School Musical," which she didn't get to watch again on the trip. Not to worry, it was the first thing out of her suitcase at my brother's in Rome. Maybe she'll get her fill before the return trip.

- Liz Fabian

Worst advice ever

I read something in Thursday's Telegraph that just made me scream.
In a syndicated article about sprucing up your home prior to putting it on the market, the author recommended replacing the carpet with a taupe berber.
In my experience, that's hands-down the worst advice ever.
Because when I moved into my house it had brand-new, creamy-colored carpet. Guess what color it is now?
After only a year and a half, and after two steam-cleanings, that carpet is - in spots - gray, brown, blue-speckled (don't ask, I don't know) and Georgia red clay. Because we LIVE in our house, we don't just look at it. My next big project is to tear up that carpet and refinish the gorgeous hardwood floors beneath. Oh, I'll probably leave the carpet in the bedrooms, but only because beds tend to scratch the heck out of hardwood.
And I'm not the only one. When my mom moved into her house 20 years ago, guess what she had on the floors? Brand-new, creamy white, wall-to-wall carpet. I'm here to tell you she fought that carpet for years. Twice-annual steam cleanings, religious spot cleanings, the endless search for a stain remover that actually worked. Finally, she tore it all up and put down a pretty silver grey that hides day-to-day dirt SO MUCH BETTER. Best of all, it worked with the light silver paint and colonial blue moldings. She still steam-cleans, but she also has babies in the house pretty regularly and hey, they spend a lot of time on the floor.
So please, please, whoever is in charge of giving interior designers and Realtors advice, ditch the white carpet line. It's just bad advice. New homeowners everywhere will thank you.
--Misty

Lessons for little Miss know-it-all

One of first lessons Faith needs to learn is how to learn. While doing homework, I pulled out last week's spelling words to go over. "But Mommy, I already know those," she said. Well, she could have fooled me as she was not able to quickly read the words she thought she knew. While doing math homework, she wanted to know why the same problems were repeated on the page. "You learn by repetition," I told her, then explained what repetition means. Review is not a welcome new word in her vocabulary. Retention is another word she should master. I'm finding it difficult to be patient as she struggles to sit still and complete her homework without distraction. Does anyone have any tips for keeping her focused? We even have a hard time keeping her in her chair during meal time. So far, her teachers have never mentioned this was a problem so it could be isolated to home. I want to improve her concentration but without discouraging her. She's already getting frustrated as she sometimes tends to write letters and numbers backwards. Her kindergarten teacher said it was likely due to being left-handed. Last night Faith told me that her new teacher has asked if she's seeing the numbers backwards, but she says she's not. One line she'll write a three correctly and in the next equation it looks like a cursive "E." Perhaps we should practice writing letters and numbers repeatedly and I need to learn more patience as she masters reading and writing.

-- Liz Fabian

Here we go!

Ahhh, here it is, the fourth week of school, and the first note has come home. "I think we should meet. What day is good for you for a conference?"
Yikes!
Daniel has been in trouble 8 out of 17 days so far. He's had to move his bear (it's a discipline chart in the classroom) from honey haven into the woods, up the river, and once all the way to the cave for different infractions. Yesterday he went over the top, though. He was frustrated by getting in trouble YET AGAIN and told his poor teacher "I'm going to tell on you!"
Well, lest you think all this is greeted with ambivalence at home, he gave a supervised apology this morning before class. And every time he gets in trouble at school, he loses a privilege at home. Chewing gum is gone, perhaps never to be seen again. And three trouble reports in a week means the loss of a Thomas train. That's hitting where it hurts, let me tell you.
I feel sometimes like I'm putting too much pressure on him to behave. He's got a lot of energy - hasn't stopped moving since conception as far as I can tell. And I don't want to get to the point where he hates school because it's boring and he has to sit still all the time. On the other hand, if I want to fulfill the dream of my kid mugging for the camera at his college graduation instead of that nightmare where a mug shot of my kid appears in CrimeStoppers, I guess I'd better start now with the pressure to behave.
--Misty

much-needed advice

Since Daniel was born, I have been worried about how to talk to him about smoking. See, Chris has been a smoker since he was 13. I'm a rabid nonsmoker. You see the conflicting messages we're sending?
To Chis' credit, he's tried everything to quit. Patches, gum, hypnosis, none of it takes care of a 20-year habit. And he has never smoked in our house or in my car. When Daniel was a baby, Chris had a jacket he'd put on before going outside to smoke and he'd take it right off when he was done. So Daniel has been exposed to as little second- or third-hand smoke as possible.
But the delimma remains: how do I teach Daniel that smoking is bad, but his daddy's not a bad person for doing it?
BabyCenter came to my rescue (as they often do) with a discussion board on teaching your child about smoking. While some of it is still over Daniel's head (I'm not sure he'll understand "addictions") I did get some tips that will work.
And Chris is still trying to quit, bless his heart.
--Misty

This Mom's play of the game

My heart was beating as if I'd climbed three flights of stairs. I almost wanted to fast forward to the end of the Little League World Series to end my misery. You see, I recorded the games and watched them later so that I could catch everything and speed through commercials. The Warner Robins All-stars really are all stars. I've watched them all this past week and couldn't be happier that they are World Series Champions. As I watched them smack homes runs, snatch balls out of the air and pitch like major leaguers, I was more impressed by their actions than their plays on the field. During one of the games, one of the booth announcers pointed out that one of the Warner Robins team members paused to congratulate an opponent who had just hit a double. "Isn't that nice?" asked the man in the booth. "That's too nice, if you ask me," another announcer replied. Then, last night, Tokyo's pitcher sobbed on the mound following the walk-off homer that ended it all. Others of Japan's finest shed tears, too. Our boys threw their arms around them and consoled them. They were happy for others who did well, and compassionate as champions. But for this Middle Georgia Mom, the play of the game I'd most like my daughter to learn comes from Dalton Carriker. Just before he stepped up to the plate to pop the game-ending home run, he knelt in prayer. "God please give me the strength just to get a hit and help my team out," is how he later described that silent prayer as he lowered his head to his bat. He then launched one out of the park. With arms outstretched he soared like Peter Pan as he circled the bases. He had reached out to a personal living God who listens and loves, while his opponents bowed to a lifeless statue their countrymen mistook for the god of baseball. In the game of life, if you have real faith like Dalton's and pray for the strength to fulfill God's will, you'll never lose. Even when you don't win.

- Liz

Way to go, WRALL!

Good job to our Little LEague World Champions - and to their parents.

Our dear dozen

There's just something about their faces. There is determination in their eyes yet a childlike countenance shows under their caps. The Warner Robins American Little League allstars are in our hearts and our prayers as they take the field in their quest to be U.S. champions. Their game is about to begin and I can't wait. Win or lose, they will always be our champions. People will be talking about that team for a while - and each and every time some one dinks that guy's bust in the outfield. I'm especially thrilled that we have a family member on the team. Carolyn Umphreyville, David's mom, is a cherished person in our newsroom at The Telegraph. Although we miss all her hard work, I'm ecstatic she's able to catch every magical moment. (All of which are masterfully detailed by my newsroom neighbor Joe Kovac Jr. and captured by photojournalist Jason Vorhees.) I heard an announcer the other night say that David was making some memorable moments for his family. I thank all the guys and their families, coaches and friends for giving us all something to remember. Go Georgia!!!

--Liz

Ahh, girls

Liz and Faith have been lucky to make it to the first grade before their first ER visit. Daniel was fifteen months the first time we whisked him in in the middle of the night.
Of course, Daniel is unique in that whenever he gets sick - and I mean just a little sick, he spikes a high fever. That has taken some getting used to. "He's 104!" "It's just a new tooth." No kidding.
But I hear it all the time from mothers of boys - the emergency room file is usually on it's second volume by the time they're 10. My husband had filled two files and started a third by the time we met on his 16th birthday. And every time I hear the Tarzan yell I think, "where are my keys?" So out of necessity that we keep at least one full ER copay in Daniel's savings account.
--Misty

Mommy, how do you spell E.R.?

And now the rest of the story of Faith's first day of school. Last night with the promise of buying her Disney's "High School Musical," Faith released her own Health Information Protection Act objections to a blog on the subject of her trip to the emergency room. About an hour into her first day of first grade, Faith nearly fell faint during a tour of the cafeteria. She turned extremely white and was having trouble keeping her eyes open, school officials said in their phone call. Luckily, I was about two miles away as they told me I needed to take her straight to the emergency room which is about two blocks away from school. But by the time I arrived, her color was returning and she was doing better after complaining of stomach pain. The nurse advised I take her to the pediatrician and the principal phoned ahead to alert the doctor. While trying to get a urine sample for the doctor, she turned white again and slumped over in the bathroom. The pediatrician called for an ambulance as she needed an I.V. immediately, he said. His big fear was that she had meningitis. My husband was arriving from Milledgeville hungry for information about Faith's condition as my cell phone died after I initially alerted him about the call from the school. What timing! We wound up whisking her to the hospital ourselves as the ambulance was taking too long and we figured we could get her there faster. Well, put your mind at ease - she's fine. We spent about six hours at the emergency room and Faith perked up right after getting her intravenous fluids. Her white blood cell count was high, but an X-ray and CT scan failed to show any problem with her stomach. A follow-up at the doctor showed her blood count was back to normal. We are sure glad. Of course what exactly happened is still a mystery, but it could have been some sort of reflex due to constipation, of all things. That would explain her stomach pain and - pardon me - but she did pass an extremely large stool later that night. That's probably too much information, just don't tell Faith I shared it. Looking back on the experience, I feel so fortunate to have such excellent care for Faith at school, her doctor's office and The Children's Hospital at The Medical Center of Central Georgia.My mind was at east as I felt so assured that she was getting the treatment she needed. The hardest times were the drive to St. Joseph's school and waiting for the ambulance at the Dr. Seth Bush's office. While driving, I felt my throat tighten and my eyes begin to water. My baby had to go to the hospital? The girl who is never sick had to be rushed to the E.R.? She had been fine that day and showed no sign of sickness. After praying as I drove and putting my trust in God, I realized I needed to be calm for her sake. I did my best to make light of the situation and not upset her. While the hospital can be a scary place, I made sure I pointed out the cheerful wallpaper border in her room and the cool bubble wall outside her door. I had taken a press tour of The Children's Hospital and E.R. suites when they opened years ago. My past experience with The Children's Miracle Network broadcast and my nephew's hospitalizations due to a heart birth defect convinced me she was in great hands. The staff was wonderful and presented Faith with a coloring book and doll while she waited for her procedures. The book explained what happened in the hospital and I think it had a calming effect on her. Her nurse even had glitter around her eyes. How cool is that? With WiFi available in the hospital, I was able to finish editing my news assignments I had been working on when I got the call. I plan to have more conversations with Faith as to why she was so embarrassed that she didn't want to share what happened with her teachers and classmates who were all worried about her. I can understand why she opposed "blogging to the world," as she said, but I thought it was important to share the positive experience we had with the hospital. Now I wonder where I can find a copy of "High School Musical."

- Liz Fabian

Recalls, recalls everywhere

From BabyCenter.com:

Picking the best baby products for your family means more than just buying the cutest one, or the cheapest one, or the one that has all the right features. You must also make sure the product is safe and appropriate for your child.
Although the U.S. government does set safety standards for many children's products, and quality manufacturers do safety-test products before they hit the stores, dozens of children's products sold in the United States are recalled each year because of safety problems that are discovered after parents begin using these products. What's more, a number of widely available children's products — such as baby bath seats — are considered dangerous by safety experts but are sold nonetheless.
See if the product has an unsafe track record by checking the Web site of Kids in Danger, a nonprofit organization dedicated to protecting children from defective products.
Look for a seal from the Juvenile Products Manufacturers Association (JPMA), a trade organization whose safety standards are much higher than those issued by the federal government. The JPMA certifies a wide variety of products, from bassinets and cradles to infant carriers and walkers. For a complete list of products, visit the certification area of the JPMA Web site.
Find out what Consumer Reports has to say about the product. The easiest way to do that is on the Consumer Reports Web site, where you'll find free and for-fee information about baby products and gear. You can also find the group's reviews and ratings compiled in the book Consumer Reports Best Baby Products, by Sandra Gordon.
How to find out about recalls:
• Visit BabyCenter's free recall database of child-related products. The database is updated weekly and lists products recalled by the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) and others. Search by category of product, date of recall, manufacturer, name or product, or model number. The CPSC maintains a complete list of recalled products on its Web site. Depending on what you're looking for, click on "Child products (not including toys)" or "Toys." These listings contain important information such as:

• a description of the product being recalled, including product numbers and when and where the product was sold

• injuries that could result from using the product

• steps the manufacturer is taking to remedy the situation

• contact information for the manufacturer

Or, instead of checking the Web site periodically, you can be notified directly when a product is recalled by signing up for the CPSC's free recall alert e-mails.

Play it safe, out there!
--Misty

Failing my first homework lesson

Because of a sometimes erratic schedule, routines are hard to come by in our house. Before I went to bed last night, I made sure I asked Faith if she did all her homework. She didn't have any, but my husband informed me that we did. The teacher sent some of Faith's school papers home for us to go over. Matt was glad I reminded him and I figured he'd get to it. But, I was up earlier than usual today, so I decided to try my hand at the "grading" of the papers. With a pink pen at the ready, I tackled Faith's first paper. I was appalled by the number of wrong answers I discovered on her paper. I couldn't believe my eyes that she had made so many errors finding words that began with the letter "M." After I reluctantly marked my first "X" I read over the directions again and this time read every word - find words that begin and end with the letter "M." Oops. I got the "whiteout" and covered my mark next the the drum she had circled. This school stuff is hard! It looks like I learned my lesson, all right. Her paper was perfect. I'm the one who needs to study.

Liz Fabian

A kingergarten planner?

Imagine my surprise when all of Daniel's first-day paperwork came home in a neat, spiral-bound planner with pages for every week, notes to and from the teacher, and pockets in the back for just such correspondence. A kindergarten planner - get out!
But it's hands-down a busy parent's most valuable tool. "What did you do in school today" is replaced with "Tell me about the fairy tale you read in school today." "Were you good for your teacher" turns into "I see you ahd trouble staying seated today." And my initials let Mrs. Tolbert know I have read her comments and spoken with Daniel about whatever trouble he's cooked up. Busted, mister.
But one thing I really like about the planner is that it gives me ideas for things he can do at home. Projects that are on his level and relate to what he's learning. Nice.
--Misty

Wait, don't recall me!

I know I haven't posted a lot lately. I have left the Telegraph (gasp!) and taken a position with Fort Valley State University's office of Marketing and Communications. While this leads to a lot of flak from "real" journalists, believe me, it's no easier than putting out a daily newspaper. Plus, I started my first day with a good dose of pneumonia. So it's been a long week.
Add to that long week Daniel's second week in kindergarten, which is going somewhat better, thank you very much, and the 100-plus degrees and humidity, and I don't have the energy to do more than read the little man's homework and make sure dinner makes it to the table. Dad has picked up a lot of a lot of slack this week!
--Misty

Recall Middle Georgia Moms?

An item on the news caught Faith's attention last night. Mattel is recalling more "Made in China" toys including one of Faith's Barbie dolls. "That wasn't a problem when I got mine, right?" Wrong. I explained that they just discovered the problem with the dolls. You may recall one of my posts from last year on this blog, Middle Georgia Moms, (not to be confused with Channel 13's new feature of the very same name). I wrote about the doll Faith received for her birthday that had a dog that really pooped little ovals that doubled as treats at the other end of the dog. What I didn't realize was the magnetic threat the artificial turds posed. It seems if they are swallowed, the magnets can attract each other, pinch the intestines and cause ulcers or ruptures that require surgery. Unfortunately, Faith also saw a similar Barbie on the news footage that has a cat just like Faith's new kitty. I had to explain how we weren't going to be able to find the doll in the store anymore. After discussing what a recall means, we decided we'd keep her doll since Faith isn't planning to eat the doggie doo doo. But she realized we need to collect all the little pellets anyway as Faith doesn't want her baby kitten swallowing them and getting hurt. What a responsible Mommy my daughter is turning out to be. Here's last year's post in case you can't recall it:

Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Barbie stoops to a new low
While decorating my Christmas tree, I got quite a surprise - doggie doo all over. There was some under the tree, on the floor under the table where I wrap presents and even on the table! "BARBIE! Your dog is pooping all over the house!," I should have exclaimed. Lucky for me, I'm talking about odorless tiny capsules that serve a dual-purpose in the fashion doll kingdom. Yes, moms and dads, Barbie has a dog and the dog does what dogs do-do. Lucky for the blonde babe who walks him, the package includes a pooper scooper to remove the brown ovals from the floor and put them in the doo-doo bin that funnels them right back into the "treat" box. Yes, there's a new concept of recycling at work here. Take that, Barbie's dog - "Eat treats and die." The doll and her doo-doo dog were one of Faith's favorite birthday presents. "Mommy, Barbie's dog really poops," she proudly noted. Although my 6-year-old loved it, be careful gift-buying people. Barbie is a little slack about the scooper and I'm worried about younger siblings swallowing the treats - think brown tic-tacs. They are probably too small for a choking hazard, but who wants their child eating fake doggie doo?
-- Liz Fabian

Back to school

There's a feeling of overwhelming nervousness in the throat. A myriad number of tasks await. Bookbag - check. Snack - check. Folder and signed forms - check, check. Uniforms - check. One piece doesn't quite fit - uncheck. And the list goes on. Going back to school is not just for kids. Last night I read through a stack of papers hoping to be prepared for every contingency. Two years ago, my husband and I were awestruck by the realization that he and I were also going back to school as our daughter started 4K. This year I really wanted to be prepared and not overlook a thing. It's taken us about two years to get the system down. I've been embarrassed by getting caught off guard about some things that slipped by when I failed to read through EVERYTHING! I was quite proud of myself today when I returned signed slips due Monday in Faith's bookbag. If I can only stay ahead of the game, maybe I can make it through first grade.
- Liz Fabian

Just saying "no"

I'm reading this book by David Walsh - "No - Why children of all ages need to hear it and ways parents can say it." I picked it up in the library when I was looking for a good biography, and I'm glad I did.
There's a difference, Walsh says, between the self esteem a lot of kids are learning these days (I must be good because I get whatever I want, or I'm entitled to x,y, and z because I'm soooo good) and real self esteem.
Real self-esteem, he says, is going to teach kids 1. that they have to actually work for some things in life. 2. that the work will be hard and sometimes painful, but that it will make the reward better. 3. Kids who have high expectations for themselves will push themselves to achieve more as adults. 4. Kids who work through problems on their own learn more about their strengths (and less about mom and dad's strength).
I'm still reading, so expect more lessons as I go through the chapters. But if you have the opportunity to read this book, I recommend it. I not only feel better about NOT allowing Daniel everything he asks for (or everythign the "other" kids have) but I'm gaining strategies for the big battles - the teenage ones.
--Misty

first week exhaustion

I know I have been falling off on the bloggin this week - it's been a bit hectic around here. First week of school - Daniel made it to day two until his teacher sent home a "bad" note. Daniel was having a hard time sitting still, paying attention, so on. Plus, in case you've been living under a rock, the Warner Robins Little Leaguers are one game away from participating in the World Series. So the phones at work have been ringing off the hook - just in case we didn't know how slighted every other parent feels. Plus, Monday I start a new job - with Fort Valley State University. So to say I'm overwhelmed is to put it mildly. Check back with me - I'm not going away, just clinging to sanity by my fingernails.
--Misty

Welcome to your new school

More guest bloggin'

Its amazing how children adapt. Since February and I moved to Bonaire, I have been telling my son he's going to Bonaire Elementary School. We even went and registered him, drove by the school every day and he was pretty excited. I have been looking, along with my significant other, at buying a house. I DID try to find one in the Bonaire district that I liked, but most were above the price range we wanted to spend. We ended up getting a contract just yesterday with a house near Lake Joy Primary.

And then yesterday, at 3:30, I drove my son to the school, registered him, sat in the office while the principal found him a teacher and he got to meet his teacher at the open house. He loves that there is a huge rock wall there, the media center is really big and the building looks really new and the best part is that their mascot is the Lions. They have stuffed lions, paintings of lions, lion books, you name it. And to boot, his teacher said that two kids from where he went last year are in his class. This is aside from the three kids he saw in the hall that he knows from the YMCA camp this summer.

In my opinion, all my child needed to see was that mommy was excited and comfortable with the school to give him the right attitude. From what I've seen from the office staff, teachers and up to the principal, the year is getting off to a wonderful albeit new start!

--Angela

Getting it off my chest

If you knew of a proven way to improve your baby's health, growth and security, wouldn't you jump at the opportunity? I'm sure some mothers would shell out big bucks to decrease the chances a child will need braces in the teen years. So why don't more moms breast-feed? A recent study shows although three-quarters of new mothers start, they quit too soon. My husband will tell you that nursing was one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do, but I was determined to succeed. Doctors recommend six months on breast milk alone, but the sad truth is that we are no longer a breastfeeding culture. A CDC study shows low-income mothers and blacks have some of the lowest rates of exclusive breast feeding. Isn't it ironic the people who are least able to afford formula are the ones reaching for it? My milk was slow in coming and I never would have gotten the nickname Elsie, but I persisted and have reaped huge rewards. Our pediatrician comments that he never sees my daughter except for yearly check-ups, and we like it that way. I nursed Faith longer than my friends, family and even strangers thought was necessary, but I have no regrets. A dear friend who was my inspiration, convinced me it's not all nutrition but bonding and security. From the time our daughter was very little, she's never been afraid to leave us in a church nursery or for mother's morning out. I believe her security is a direct result of nursing, increased bonding and gradual weaning on her terms. My physician even disapproved of my nursing into the toddler years and made her feelings known when I rejected antibiotics and other procedures. Sure it was tough juggling a job, but pumping at work and being able to work at home by computer helped. I actually found breast-feeding convenient as you always have something to feed the baby. It doesn't have to be mixed or heated and it's FREE. Plus, the human body was designed to run on breast milk and I don't believe man can come up with a better formula than what God intended. So why don't more people nurse? I wish I knew. When I see someone put nursing equipment on their baby registry, I am quick to buy it and offer my support. But often the recipients have been just as quick to reject nursing as an option once the baby arrives. "It's not for me... I didn't have enough milk... I saw what it did to my breasts after the first child... That's sick," these are just some of the excuses I've heard. I don't mean to judge others as I know from experience it's not as easy as you would think, but it's best for the baby. No doubt about it. That was enough for me. Plus, having had a weight problem most of my life, I didn't want to do anything that might contribute to Faith having the same issues. Besides, the breast is for nursing. It wasn't intended to be just a sex toy, but that's what it's become in many people's minds. Don't be just another boob - NURSE!
-Liz Fabian

great daze

So I took Daniel to the open house at his new school and managed to leave $95 lighter. Add that to another two pairs of glasses, school clothes and shoes and I'm glad the supply list is short!
--Misty

feeling "bad mommy!"

Some days I fell like there's no way to win in parenting. Daniel is high-energy and high-spirited. He's excitable and imaginative, and he hasn't yet learned there even is a line between "fun" and "too far."
Which means I feel like I spend most of my time these days disciplining him. "Don't call names" means ANY name - not just those ending in "head" (stupidhead). "Don't run inside" means in the house, in the store, in school.... And we won't even get into the teaching of patience "no, dinner is not done yet." and in five minutes "no, dinner is still not done yet." Do not tell me dinner is "yuck" after I went to the trouble of cooking it - before you even taste it! Do not repeat yourself five times or more just because I haven't gotten you that drink yet. I heard you the first time, but I can't always drop what I'm doing and attend to you RIGHT NOW - nor should I be expected to.
So those are a few of the issues I'm trying to teach, without feeling like I'm getting anywhere. I guess the next twelve years are going to be like this, but I'd better find a reserve store of hope in the meantime!
--Misty

Camping it up with the kids

I live to tell about my adventurous night with seven rising first graders in the tent in our backyard. Faith has been looking forward to her "Midsummer Night's Dream" sleepover party since she left school in May. Although none of the girls had much experience spending the night away from family, we managed to make it with only one little one going home. The worst part of it all, was the muggy night Friday. After low humidity early in the week, it was pretty brutal. We kept a small fan running in the tent, but by about 4 a.m. I could do without it. My only regret was not taking the camera out into the tent when I went to sleep. When I absolutely had to get up for a nature call at 7 a.m., the half dozen girls were precious in their various sleep shapes. A couple of heads popped up when I got up, but they sleepily went back down. My plan was to return with the camera, but by the time I got out of the bathroom, all of them were in a single file parade out of the tent and into the house. We managed to take a couple of shots back in the tent, including all of them piled onto my cot. This might turn out to be an annual tradition for Faith. The hardest thing was not being able to accommodate everyone considering our limited tent space. While there were a few girls not able to make it, the magic 7 number proved to be a good one for us. Everyone got along and seemed to have a fun time. I'm just glad I had the rest of the weekend to get some sleep.

- Liz Fabian

School supplies

We have to start thinking "back to school" a little early because Daniel's new glasses take some time to come in. But that gets me thinking about other things kids should have besided paper and pencils.
Eye exams. Yeah, this one's dear to my heart, but it's so important! If your child can't see well, they aren't going to pay attention to the board. If close-in vision is the problem, or dyslexia, you're not going to be raising a reader. So get 'em checked, at least once every couple of years.
Physicals. Young athletes already have to go through this, but I think taking healthy kids to the doctor instills a lifeling habit. Annual checkups are so important for adults - especially women's cancer screenings - that is just seems like the thing to do. I usually take Daniel around his birthday, just so I remember to do it.
A homework plan. We've been trying to get Daniel used to the idea of homework - using handwriting practice as "homework." But when we do get into school mode, we already have established a place for him to work and a regular time. He's got pencils and crayons and we can see him clearly to supervise.
So think about more than paper and notebook in your back-to-school prep. It'll pay off.
Oh, and look for back-to-school sections coming up in the Telegraph and the Houston Peach.
--Misty

mommy's ears are bleeding

After a rotten week highlighted by a three-day migraine and fever, I gave Daniel a break this weekend. He had a friend over at the house yesterday and today I blog from Monkey Joe's. That haven of child-fun with a decible level somewhere above a Meatllica concert. Perhaps not the best chaser for all those migraine meds, huh?
--Misty

guest blogger

To make his baby brother more real for my son, I took my 7-year-old to the doctor's office with me so he could listen to the heartbeat. Our appointment was a 10:30 and when we got there, I had to drink the stuff for the glucose test. It is an orange flavored syrupy drink that made me sick to my stomach for the next couple hours. During the next hour (when we sat in the waiting room), I was thinking, how nice it was to have a child old enough to amuse himself, color for a while, read a book, etc. And now I'm starting all over.
We finally got to see the doctor and he let Nicholas use the heartbeat "meter" thingie (I'm sure there is a technical name for it) and he got to press it against my stomach. He's now my little doctor in training. He thought it was pretty cool. Then the even COOLER thing was seeing mom get her blood drawn. I told him I wasn't responsible if he passed out from watching. He admitted later that it did make him light-headed to watch.
So now its only 2 1/2 more months until D-day and I will see the doctor every two weeks. And the anticipation builds not only for myself but for all of my friends and family. And especially Nicholas who can't wait to see what this squirmy thing looks like out of mommy's belly!
--Angela

Getting crafty in the summer

While Faith is beginning to be a little contrary when I make suggestions, we reached common ground at the craft table this week. The latest edition of The Telegraph's Southern Style magazine included a couple of projects to work on with children. Writer Cindy O'Donnell inspired us to fashion our own glow-in-the-dark butterflies out of water bottles. While the article included instructions for lightning bugs, Faith didn't like the Cootie-like tongue, so we ventured on to colorful butterflies and we improvised on the design. While I had intended to put forth a set pattern to keep us both on track, I let her creative juices flow a little as she did almost all of the wings. Her scissor skills are coming along and we managed to turn out some pretty cute little creatures. The test will come when we put glow sticks inside the plastic bottle and hang them in the trees for her night party this weekend. I admit I was dreading the project as I thought she would buck me at every turn, but I was pleasantly surprised. Plus the craft got her away from the television for an hour! Plus, I'm sure her friends will be impressed that she created and designed her little butterfly friends.

Liz Fabian

Twae Kwon Dwo

Yes, I know there are extra "w"s in the word above. But that's how Daniel pronounces his new hobby. Today was his second class, and he loves it!
I took home lessons from the Museum of Aviation auction and raffle, hoping martial arts would instill a little coordination and a dollpo of discipline. After all, the first thing a "tiny tiger" has to learn is to sit and stand still, and come to attention. Sounds like just the ticket to avoid a few phone calls from the teacher. And good Lord, could someone tech my semi-blind child to walk without tripping, to look where he's going, and to run without bumping into things? So I have high hopes for his new lessons, and the fact that he likes them has me positively giddy.
--Misty

me, too

I know exactly what Liz is going through, and that's reassuring to me. One of the reasons I like blogging about Daniel's and my misadventures is that I get responses from moms who understand what I'm talking about.
In my case, I've been so worried about Daniel starting Kindergarten that a new, grown-up habit snuck up on me. I'm no longer "mommy" or "mama." I've graduated to "mom." Oh, my.
--Misty

Growing pains

Someone has stolen my daughter and replaced her with a tween version. She disappears into the back bedroom and when I come through the door, the television immediately goes black. It's a scary feeling thinking she might be watching something inappropriate.
By turning the television back on, I've discovered her secret channel is Disney. She's graduated from the little kid shows and is now all about teen programming, which we've previously frowned upon. "Zack and Cody" are her two new best friends. I'm not sure who they are. All I know is that they are twin boys. It racks my nerves to consider that I really don't know much about any of these shows. I feel very irresponsible. I saw a little bit of "Hannah Montana" one day and it seemed fairly harmless. But I still wonder. Sometimes Faith squeals with laughter as she's watching. She rushes through supper to get back to the television. I'm not thrilled at all about this new habit, so I've had a little talk with her about my concerns. It must be sinking in somewhat as I heard her trying to convince my husband the show she was watching was OK. "Dad I can watch this," she said. The kids aren't talking mean to their parents or anything." I might be over-reacting, but there is plenty of junk on television. I didn't even like her watching Caillou on PBS because of his whiny attitude. I realize I can't protect her from all the smut of the world, but I hope I can at least help her recognize bad behavior when she sees it.
- Liz Fabian

BillyBear4kids

I have been apalled at the deterioration of Daniel's handwriting since he finished preschool and stopped daily practice. I tried for a while to get him to do "homework" while I cooked dinner, but he was more interested in helping me cook.
His optometrist suggested I start him on some mazes. "It doesn't matter whether he completes the maze or does it correctly." Dr. Simmons said. The practice of drawing between two existing lines will help keep his eyes tracking together, will improve his eye-hand coordination and will make his handwriting neater.
Sold!
So I found www.billybear4kids.com - and a bunch of printable mazes for the elementary school set. Check it out, and let me know what you think: Do your kids backslide noticably during the summer? Or do you get them to practice skills such as handwriting so they are ready when school starts again?
--Misty

No "Easy-Bake"

If it ain't broke, don't fix it. That's a lesson Hasbro might learn now that it's recalling a million Easy-Bake ovens. The new pink and purple models that look like a range oven do not use light bulbs, but heating elements. The new design allows children to put their fingers inside the oven and get caught. The unit does have a spatula device that is supposed to be used, but serious accidents have happened. The company first issued a repair program that included a part that could be placed over the oven opening. Since implementing the part in February, there have been nearly 250 reports of kids getting their fingers caught, including 77 burns and more than a dozen of them serious. One 5-eyar-old girl even had part of her finger amputated as a result of her burn. Because this is a design issue, consumers are asked to take the ovens away from children and contact Hasbro. The company can be reached toll-free at (800) 601-8418 , or at the firm’s Web site at www.easybake.com. Oven owners will be given vouchers for another Hasbro toy. Children should already know ovens are NOT toys. Although I can see how these injuries could happen, I wonder whether these children were being supervised. I can remember using my own Easy-Bake as a child. It was a yellow model that cooked with a light bulb. Although I have a vivid memory of baking unsupervised, I knew that the oven was hot. Most toddlers learn the "Owee Hot" lesson early in life, so I can't imagine why youngsters wouldn't realize that touching was off limits. It's a hard lesson to learn the hard way.
- Liz Fabian

Monkey see, monkey do

My last post brought something else to mind. "Children learn what they live." In Daniel's case, I never realized he knew how to do a sit-up just from watching me exercise. Then we were at my grandmother's and he flopped down and pulled a couple crunches. oookaaay.
But he has a passion for all the things I do. Cooking, gardening, reading. If only it could translate to cleaning up his room!
--Misty

Harry Potter happiness

I read somewhere that "experts" don't think the Harry Potter series makes kids read any more than they would otherwise. Kids just read the HP books and stop, the story claimed. What?!?
In my view, seven books is better than no books read. And really, Harry Potter opened up the world for Eragon and other sci-fi/fantasy novels - at least in my house. The kids who wait up until midnight to get those books first aren't going to stop reading with one book - and I'd be willing to bet they pass their books on to younger siblings. Daniel has become a reader because he sees me and his dad reading all the time. And you'd better bet I'm reading the Harry Potter series.
--Misty

Horsing around at camp

For kids who are "hot to trot," there is a horse camp in Macon. Faith attended a couple of times with her cousin in recent weeks. Holly Anderson, owner of Sun Valley Arabians, and Lisa Harrelson, (our cousin-in-law), are teaching youngsters how to ride both Western and English saddles at 6401 Fulton Mill Road. Children also learn hands-on grooming techniques and horse etiquette. They have two more all-day camps this month - July 13th and July 20th. Campers arrive at 9 a.m. and can be picked up at 5 p.m., although early drop off and late pickup can be arranged, Lisa says. The day of activities includes a picnic lunch, swimming and arts and crafts. The tuition is $65 for the day, which may seem a little high for a one-day camp, but a horse enthusiast tells me private riding lessons run about $30 per half-hour. Although I haven't been to the camp, Faith has had fun both times she went and came home all tired out. Anyone interested in signing up can call Holly at 788-9357 or Lisa at 447-0940.

Cinema sequels of my childhood

Going to the movies is like turning back the clock. While taking Faith to see Ratatouille this week, we saw previews for "Underdog." The coming attraction provided another opportunity for me to deliver a "when-I-was-a-child" anecdote. In this case, I told Faith that "Underdog" was a cartoon when I was little. The new film with a real beagle and a lot of help from computer animation looks like a winner. I predict a resurgence of the beagle breed the world hasn't seen since Snoopy emerged from Charles Schulz' pen. It looks like Disney has another winner, but I'm only judging from the trailer. The movie debuts Aug. 3, so I guess we'll really see then. With the exception of Ratatouille, the films I've taken Faith to this summer are a throw-back to my childhood - Nancy Drew and Curious George. It's a nice feeling to resurrect the kid in me and so far Hollywood has been kind to my memory. While Faith and I enjoyed the rat flick, I was distracted by a cell phone toward the end of the movie. No, I didn't hear the ring. An alarming flash caught my attention like lightning out a window or a search light at the airport. One of the patrons sitting across the aisle had a Bluetooth in her ear that kept flashing. How annoying. I might have to invest in blinders before Underdog arrives.
- Liz Fabian

Bits of this post has been borrowed from babble.com (I certainly didn't call 1000 people). I found it interesting because I was sure, right up until the doc said "it's a boy" that Daniel Keith would be Katie Susanne. My husband, whose patriarchal side of the family has produced boys only for generations, was just as sure we'd be having a boy. Of course, now I am going to be able to choose the gender opf Daniel's sibling, and I want one just like him (yes, I have lost my marbles. If you find them, please keep them safe).
Apparently Americans have a distinct preference for one gender over another when it comes to babies, and the preference is definitely weighted towards boys.
1000 Americans were Gallup-polled recently and asked the question, "Suppose you could only have one child. Would you prefer that it be a boy or a girl?"
37% said: Boy, while only 28% said: Girl. I know, I know, that doesn't even approach 100%, does it? I'm bothered by that too. A full 26%, almost as many as wanted girls, said it doesn't matter, even though that wasn't an option as an answer. And 9% "didn't understand the question." Those are the ones I'm hoping will opt to NOT reproduce at all.
What does this say about our society? Apparently we're still into the "carry on the family name" mentality.
What about you? Boys? Girls? And why?

--Misty

marriage = commitment?

I was reading the Parade this morning and ran across an article about Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, specifically how they aren't planning to get married. They want more kids together, but have both failed at marriage before and therefore don't plan to tie the knot. Parade disagreed with their choice.
So here's my question: Doesn't having kids together - and I don't just mean CREATING an child together but actually raising kids together - make a stronger bond than a wedding and the rings you wear? With the divorce rate somewhere around 50 percent, is marriage the symbol of commitment it once was? Or is it more a traditional value that we'd like to pass along to our kids? And I'll go ahead and cross that line - the gay and lesbian couples Chris and I know are no less committed to each other than we are, even though they can't get married.
For that matter, I know some male/female couples who raised children together before finally getting married. The reason they delayed getting hitched? The cost involved with a wedding, for one. Other couples I know were acutally brought together by the unexpected advent of a child and only got married after they were sure they weren't just "staying together for the kids." They have a strong marriage - now.
So what is marriage? And are couples who live together and raise children together any less committed to each other than those who plann a wedding together? Keep in mind that if Brangelina stay together for seven years, they're married in the eyes of the state anyway. And it's not like Angie's ever been a traditional girl.
--Misty

Consignment sale news

You heard it here first (or maybe not).
Baby Country (behind Chick-fil-a on Watson Boulevard) is setting out all their winter clothes. That means they have a huge stopck of summer stuff on sale for $1. The owners said they plan to be done with the changeover on Wednesday, so go on by then for a look at the summer sale AND the winter lineup! I can't tell you how many brand-new items I picked up (you can tell if something's been washed).
ALSO - the Almost 2 New ladies are gearing up for their winter sale. It will be held at Trinity Church of the Nazarene on Hartley Bridge Road Friday, Aug. 24 from 9 a.m. to 8 p.m. and Saturday, Aug. 25 from 7 a.m. to noon. As usual, Saturday is half-price day and Thursday nights consigners will get in for a preview sale. Now, if you've not gotten around to cleaning out your little one's closet, you've got plenty of time to give these ladies a call and sign up. E-mail jennifer.jordan@cox.net and get in on the action. They report their top consigner in the spring made $430! For me, that's Christmas shopping money!!
--Misty

Still want that brother?

Daniel talks a lot about getting a new brother. He doesn't really understand that we're going through the adoption process, only that some time next year we'll "get" him a brother. In the meantime, I think a lot about how to introduce a child into our family. After all, I'm not having a baby, so we don't have the usuall anticipation time or even ballpark delivery date. Here are some things I've thought of:
We're in the process of cleaning Daniel's room. I'm taking out toys he's done with, setting some aside "for kids who don't have any toys." He found this idea pretty incredible and I realized I had some teaching to do. But he's a generous little bug, so I find I have to keep him from putting HIS favorite toys into the "for others" pile. Fortunately, I've found a lot of his toys have been well-loved, so I don't feel like many of our choices have been wasted. Some things, like his tricycle, I am secretly putting away for his new brother. If he had his way, he'd continue to ride it instead of that wobbly two-wheeler.
I have let him become more involved with his scrapbook. I put it together, but he gets to help pick out the pictures he wants in it, and we read it together afterward. The theory is I can cut down on jealousy as long as he is certain of his place in our hearts.
I read about a first-meeting gift exchange. When we settle on a child and are in the final stages, I'll buy age-appropriate gifts and wrap them. One for Daniel to give his new sibling, one for the boy to give to Daniel. That way they can right away start saying "my brother gave me this!"
Fortunately, my company also allows "maternity" leave in adoption cases. I'm hoping that, when the time comes, I'll take a few weeks off to just be there for both boys. After all, this could be the biggest thing that happens to all of us!
--Misty

Dependent's independence

Fourth of July eve marked a milestone in my motherhood. "Mom, would you like for me to get you a dish of ice cream?" was the question I thought was ushering in a new level of independence for my daughter. "Wow," I thought. "My daughter is waiting on me." When she found an insufficient amount of cool creamy confection in the kitchen, she said she'd go to the freezer in the utility room for more. She came back with two bowls of ice cream. My husband and I decided we could get used to this kind of service from the same girl who recently "forgot" how to make her bed. On the Fourth, Faith arranged her own craft on the kitchen table and proceeded to work quietly by herself as I baked a cake. Once the cake was done, I started teaching her to sew. She nearly mastered the straight stitch without my help and will venture on to curves and circles in the coming days before we try a real pattern. But by afternoon, she was clinging to my side at a pool party. Faith was too shy to talk to the grown-ups, too timid to go swimming alone or talk to another young girl about a year older. After Daddy grabbed her giggling self into the water from the pool steps, she swam right back to me and then plastered her wet self next to me on the side of the pool. She really wanted me to go in the water with her, but I was enjoying the company of other adults and didn't want to go swimming. I know Faith loves the water, so I didn't want to give in and baby her. It didn't take long before she and the little girl were buddies, swimming and eating together and having a great time. While I am looking forward to her self-sufficiency, I know I need to relish these times when she still wants Mom around.
-Liz Fabian