All the talk about organics in my previous post lead me to my main point. WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) is a program that accepts volunteers in many different places in the world. The hosts provide food and accommodations, sometimes these are free, sometimes they're not but it's never terribly pricey. You join WWOOF and you get a list of families that are accepting volunteers in whichever country you choose. You commit anywhere from a week (or less) to however long you want, sometimes years (watch those visa limits!). You work on the farm, learn about organic farming, sometimes about animals if they keep them in the farm and meet other WWOOFers.
Some families allow you to bring children, which would be a bonus to me. My hurdles currently are; getting to France, convincing the rest of the family, figuring out how long I want to do this and what my mom will want to do seeing as she's moving out here in a couple months. She's never been to Europe and I don't necessarily want to make her work on a farm.
Aside from that, I'm not sure how else I would go about getting a work visa for Europe, but eventually I will. I want to live on the other side of the pond, it's been a long time dream and I'm still exploring my options to make this happen.
Do any of you have experience with volunteering overseas or working on a farm?
Monday, March 28, 2011
My trip to France and a plan (part 1)
I think this state has changed me into a bona fide hippy. I say this because just a couple of weeks ago, out of nowhere, I decided that perhaps I would like to grow my own fruits and vegetables. I'm 34 years old and I have no idea how to grow anything except a pinto bean plant I had to grow as a project when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade.
Card Man is all about organics, but that's probably because he's lived in this state all of his life and MIL is a hippy. A couple of years ago, the farmer's market caught my attention. It didn't do it on its own though. A visit to France with my classmates in '08 opened my eyes to the way people outside of this country eat and live. The food was amazing and in particular, my host mother's house had mostly fresh fruits and vegetables.
I was called on eating quickly (as most Americans do) and since it made me self-conscious, I slowed down. I lost a bit of weight those 6 weeks I was gone and it wasn't just the eating. I had no vehicle to take me back and forth so I had to rely on walking or mass transit. Since I was in France, I did not mind it one bit. I would sit at the bus stop in Rennes every weekday morning listening to my ipod and looking at the houses that lined the street across from me. I would imagine how French families greeted their mornings and how they would go about their day. One of those days, since my host mother needed to get to work early (she is now retired but was a language teacher at a high school), she dropped me off at a friend's host parent's house. The father and mother were very courteous and it seemed as if the French home was what the American home was in the 50s. The exception to this was the fact that both parents cooked and served breakfast. They both got themselves and the children ready and then would part with a loving hug and a kiss that was unseen by us.
I guess psychologically what drew me so much to life in this small village was the fact that I did not have that sense of normalcy growing up. My childhood was turbulent and painful. I don't blame anyone for it, it's made me the person I am today and for that I am grateful. However, there were two parents in that French home. Strictness was obvious by how clean the house was and no sign of clutter.
Arriving in France altogether was a surreal experience. During the stop I had to make in Philly, my two hour layover turned into a 12 hour lay over. I was asked if I could give up my seat in exchange for another seat on the same plane because a husband and wife had gotten separate seats. I was fine with it and once I boarded, there was an Asian family sitting in the middle row, except the father would have been separated from the family. I exchanged seats once again and ended up sitting next to a woman who was attempting to sleep. I watched the in-flight movie, 3:10 to Yuma which was very good, I was impressed. I also watched another movie but the name escapes me. Once morning came and we were about an hour away, breakfast was served. This consisted of a wrapped danish and nasty airplane coffee. I saved my seat mate's danish and she woke up just in time to request her drink. She thanked me and we began chatting. We talked about our kids and the topic came up that I would be away for my daughter's 8th birthday. I would have to make it up to her by going to Disneyland Paris and getting her a hat with her name stitched on it. Turns out, my seat mate works at Disneyland Paris and gave me her contact information. She would be able to get me in for free! As the plane approached Charles de Gaulle, I looked down and saw the countryside just outside of Paris. My heart leapt into my throat and it hit home for a moment that I was in Europe. Once we arrived, my seat mate offered to walk with me all the way to the terminal. We made small talk and I discovered in France, they don't call it "wy fy" they call it, "wee fee." For some reason this stuck with me and now, almost 3 years later, I still call it "wee fee."
Once I claimed my baggage (I will never travel with that much baggage again), I headed out of the airport where I was supposed to meet a friend of mine. I was scared I wouldn't find her since my layover made me over 12 hours late. However, she was just outside baggage claim. Neither of us had slept in over 24 hours, so I wanted to get to a hotel STAT. I wasn't aware at the time that there were shuttles that took us from the airport to the nearest gare (main train stations), so we navigated the metro (with my huge bags). This was tiring and frustrating because Paris apparently has to put steps EVERYWHERE.
Once we arrived, we popped up in the Metro in the Latin Quarter. Many people assisted me with my huge rolling suitcase up the steps and down the steps. Once we got to the top, we wandered around the Latin Quarter for a bit and found a hotel, Hotel Saint Severin. This place was awesome in a French sort of way. It was small and cozy, but beautiful. Our room had a very Parisian charm that is hard to explain. The walls were painted a reddish brown, the windows were french doors that opened to a tiny railing that blocked the bottom half of the window. I squealed girlishly when I saw this. We took off to wander around the city for a little while so as not to disrupt our sleep schedule because we would have to be at the gare early the next morning and if we slept now, we'd be destroyed that next day again.
I think it finally hit me that I was in France when we saw Notre Dame in the distance. It wasn't far, but it was far enough for me to stop and wonder if I was dreaming and if so, when I would wake up. We wandered around Notre Dame and then the small make shift shops set up along the Seine until we felt it was time to eat. At that point, we went to a cafe where the waiter correctly pinned us as Americans and spoke English. We joked and laughed, he was really pleasant.
Finally, the time came when we were headed back to the hotel to finally catch up on sleep. While I tried to sleep, I found Spongebob in French and that was also very amusing to me.
The next morning, we were on our way to the gare to meet the rest of our class and travel to Rennes. The TGV (Train à Grande Vitesse which means high-speed train) was quite an experience. I hadn't been on a train for many years but this was a very fast train that allowed us to view the countryside on our way to Rennes. We were there in an hour and when we arrived, many families were already waiting for my classmates. My host mom was a bit late but she called ahead. She had gotten off of work late and was apologetic when she arrived. Her car is a Citroen and just to see that name seemed so foreign to me. As we entered the city, she showed me the original city wall, the cathedral and the school I would be going to.
Once we got to her house, once again, there was so much French charm. It is a small 2 story house, a duplex really. The inside was very simple and very nice. She spoke to her animals in French. I attempted to speak to the cat in English and it looked at me as if it would rip my face off. Eventually the cat took a liking to me.
My host mother became a second mother to me. She would care for me by cooking, making sure that I ate when I was supposed to and by forcing me to spend time with her. Understand though, that by "forcing" I mean she would draw me out of the room to have conversations that I quite enjoyed. We would watch television together and have a great time. She had a lunch guest with her adopted daughter who was perhaps 2 years old. I ended up playing with the little girl when she was having a meltdown over lunch. I taught her how to high-five :D.
She took me to Nantes where one of her daughters lived one weekend, another weekend, I went to a couple of traditional dance classes and had a LOT of fun there. With my class, I took a trip to Broceliande (Merlin's forest) and to Mont St Michel. As cheesy as this may sound France called to me, I felt like I belonged. When my three weeks were up, we left for Paris where I had originally arrived.
In Paris, we once again navigated the metro, again a huge pain in the ass. We arrived at the student housing late, but they gave us our room. It slept 3 and my roommates were at one of our other classmates' dorm room. I set my belongings down and waited for them to arrive. Once they arrived, we decided to walk around town and familiarize ourselves with the Bastille where we were located.
The next few days consisted of meeting our classmates at predesignated spots (by our teacher), exploring cafes, the market, grocery stores and landmarks. I spent three weeks in Paris and I feel as if I was still missing a lot of it.
Here it is three years later and I can't wait to return.
Card Man is all about organics, but that's probably because he's lived in this state all of his life and MIL is a hippy. A couple of years ago, the farmer's market caught my attention. It didn't do it on its own though. A visit to France with my classmates in '08 opened my eyes to the way people outside of this country eat and live. The food was amazing and in particular, my host mother's house had mostly fresh fruits and vegetables.
I was called on eating quickly (as most Americans do) and since it made me self-conscious, I slowed down. I lost a bit of weight those 6 weeks I was gone and it wasn't just the eating. I had no vehicle to take me back and forth so I had to rely on walking or mass transit. Since I was in France, I did not mind it one bit. I would sit at the bus stop in Rennes every weekday morning listening to my ipod and looking at the houses that lined the street across from me. I would imagine how French families greeted their mornings and how they would go about their day. One of those days, since my host mother needed to get to work early (she is now retired but was a language teacher at a high school), she dropped me off at a friend's host parent's house. The father and mother were very courteous and it seemed as if the French home was what the American home was in the 50s. The exception to this was the fact that both parents cooked and served breakfast. They both got themselves and the children ready and then would part with a loving hug and a kiss that was unseen by us.
I guess psychologically what drew me so much to life in this small village was the fact that I did not have that sense of normalcy growing up. My childhood was turbulent and painful. I don't blame anyone for it, it's made me the person I am today and for that I am grateful. However, there were two parents in that French home. Strictness was obvious by how clean the house was and no sign of clutter.
Arriving in France altogether was a surreal experience. During the stop I had to make in Philly, my two hour layover turned into a 12 hour lay over. I was asked if I could give up my seat in exchange for another seat on the same plane because a husband and wife had gotten separate seats. I was fine with it and once I boarded, there was an Asian family sitting in the middle row, except the father would have been separated from the family. I exchanged seats once again and ended up sitting next to a woman who was attempting to sleep. I watched the in-flight movie, 3:10 to Yuma which was very good, I was impressed. I also watched another movie but the name escapes me. Once morning came and we were about an hour away, breakfast was served. This consisted of a wrapped danish and nasty airplane coffee. I saved my seat mate's danish and she woke up just in time to request her drink. She thanked me and we began chatting. We talked about our kids and the topic came up that I would be away for my daughter's 8th birthday. I would have to make it up to her by going to Disneyland Paris and getting her a hat with her name stitched on it. Turns out, my seat mate works at Disneyland Paris and gave me her contact information. She would be able to get me in for free! As the plane approached Charles de Gaulle, I looked down and saw the countryside just outside of Paris. My heart leapt into my throat and it hit home for a moment that I was in Europe. Once we arrived, my seat mate offered to walk with me all the way to the terminal. We made small talk and I discovered in France, they don't call it "wy fy" they call it, "wee fee." For some reason this stuck with me and now, almost 3 years later, I still call it "wee fee."
Once I claimed my baggage (I will never travel with that much baggage again), I headed out of the airport where I was supposed to meet a friend of mine. I was scared I wouldn't find her since my layover made me over 12 hours late. However, she was just outside baggage claim. Neither of us had slept in over 24 hours, so I wanted to get to a hotel STAT. I wasn't aware at the time that there were shuttles that took us from the airport to the nearest gare (main train stations), so we navigated the metro (with my huge bags). This was tiring and frustrating because Paris apparently has to put steps EVERYWHERE.
Once we arrived, we popped up in the Metro in the Latin Quarter. Many people assisted me with my huge rolling suitcase up the steps and down the steps. Once we got to the top, we wandered around the Latin Quarter for a bit and found a hotel, Hotel Saint Severin. This place was awesome in a French sort of way. It was small and cozy, but beautiful. Our room had a very Parisian charm that is hard to explain. The walls were painted a reddish brown, the windows were french doors that opened to a tiny railing that blocked the bottom half of the window. I squealed girlishly when I saw this. We took off to wander around the city for a little while so as not to disrupt our sleep schedule because we would have to be at the gare early the next morning and if we slept now, we'd be destroyed that next day again.
I think it finally hit me that I was in France when we saw Notre Dame in the distance. It wasn't far, but it was far enough for me to stop and wonder if I was dreaming and if so, when I would wake up. We wandered around Notre Dame and then the small make shift shops set up along the Seine until we felt it was time to eat. At that point, we went to a cafe where the waiter correctly pinned us as Americans and spoke English. We joked and laughed, he was really pleasant.
Finally, the time came when we were headed back to the hotel to finally catch up on sleep. While I tried to sleep, I found Spongebob in French and that was also very amusing to me.
The next morning, we were on our way to the gare to meet the rest of our class and travel to Rennes. The TGV (Train à Grande Vitesse which means high-speed train) was quite an experience. I hadn't been on a train for many years but this was a very fast train that allowed us to view the countryside on our way to Rennes. We were there in an hour and when we arrived, many families were already waiting for my classmates. My host mom was a bit late but she called ahead. She had gotten off of work late and was apologetic when she arrived. Her car is a Citroen and just to see that name seemed so foreign to me. As we entered the city, she showed me the original city wall, the cathedral and the school I would be going to.
Once we got to her house, once again, there was so much French charm. It is a small 2 story house, a duplex really. The inside was very simple and very nice. She spoke to her animals in French. I attempted to speak to the cat in English and it looked at me as if it would rip my face off. Eventually the cat took a liking to me.
My host mother became a second mother to me. She would care for me by cooking, making sure that I ate when I was supposed to and by forcing me to spend time with her. Understand though, that by "forcing" I mean she would draw me out of the room to have conversations that I quite enjoyed. We would watch television together and have a great time. She had a lunch guest with her adopted daughter who was perhaps 2 years old. I ended up playing with the little girl when she was having a meltdown over lunch. I taught her how to high-five :D.
She took me to Nantes where one of her daughters lived one weekend, another weekend, I went to a couple of traditional dance classes and had a LOT of fun there. With my class, I took a trip to Broceliande (Merlin's forest) and to Mont St Michel. As cheesy as this may sound France called to me, I felt like I belonged. When my three weeks were up, we left for Paris where I had originally arrived.
In Paris, we once again navigated the metro, again a huge pain in the ass. We arrived at the student housing late, but they gave us our room. It slept 3 and my roommates were at one of our other classmates' dorm room. I set my belongings down and waited for them to arrive. Once they arrived, we decided to walk around town and familiarize ourselves with the Bastille where we were located.
The next few days consisted of meeting our classmates at predesignated spots (by our teacher), exploring cafes, the market, grocery stores and landmarks. I spent three weeks in Paris and I feel as if I was still missing a lot of it.
Here it is three years later and I can't wait to return.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Stirring the controversy pot...
There have been several articles that have caused quite a buzz in social networks, at least the ones I've been witness and participated in. There's a new recommendation by the AAP that children should ideally rear face in their car seats until the age of 2 at least. Also, corporal punishment and CIO. Mind you there are a number of other issues, but I'm going to concentrate on these for now.
Rear Facing
I have my daughter rear facing in her car seat still and plan to do so for a long while. When I had my other children, it wasn't something I had heard of. However, the logic makes sense to me. The impact is absorbed by the seat itself in rear facing as opposed to just the strap which can cause a number of spinal, head and other injuries. The counter arguments range from uncomfortable, irritable, screaming children all the way to the inconvenience of rear facing them and not fitting in certain vehicles.
I have a van, I've rear faced my daughter's car seat in a Nissan Altima 2-door coupe which is tiny, with my husband driving (he's 6'5") knees up against the dash but the car seat fit in the center.
To hell with comfort and broken legs, if it saves my kid's life, I'm going to do it. One of the other things that convinced me was a ride on Space Mountain in France's Disneyland. I tried putting my head back and it wasn't working, I was jolted a bunch and had a killer headache afterward.
A lot of transit systems have half or better number of seats rear facing. The space shuttles have rear facing seats. Will I judge you if you don't rear face your kids? A little. However, it's your choice as a parent and I know that most parents won't do something to willingly hurt their kids.
Corporal Punishment
This is a sensitive subject for me because I got my ass kicked as a child. I don't get the logic of hitting your kid and telling them not to hit. I just can't wrap my head around it. How about what an article states about women being hit. That's not acceptable, but a child being hit is. We're talking spanking here, all things being equal, if disciplining your kid allows for spanking, if there's no anger behind disciplining your wife, is that acceptable or can anger not be removed from the act of hitting an adult?
I just can't bring myself to hurt my child who looks at me as if I'm God, because to my kids for a while, I am. Teaching by hitting only teaches not to get caught, I know from experience. The consequence is a spanking, not the actual consequence of the action. It removes I think, the act and what happens when the child does something unacceptable or dangerous (of course you won't let a child get hit by a car to prove a consequence, but I'm generalizing here).
How does hitting not teach a child that this is how problems get resolved? Mom and Dad resolve problems with the child in that manner. This is a time when everything parents do is gospel, so why is it ok for Mom and Dad to hit and not the child?
CIO
I tried to let Ava cry it out in her crib one night. ONE night. I was tired and I wanted to sleep and knew Ava was tired but she wouldn't sleep. I put her in her crib and knew the crying would commence. She cried, sobbed, reached for me and called my name. I read one particular article on the internet while she sobbed. To paraphrase, it stated, "A child cries and when they realize that their cries are not getting them the comfort that they need (parents) then they dissociate themselves from the parents. The parents are not coming to their comfort in a time of sorrow or agony or fright." How can I argue with that logic?
I can't stand to hear my child sobbing if I can make it better. Yes it's inconvenient to have a child in bed with you. Yes it does terrible things to your sex life, or lack thereof. However, it only last for a small amount of time. These are years you'll never get back. For the most part, all things being equal I haven't heard of a 15 year old sleeping in the same bed with Mom and Dad.
The "My way" interaction among mothers
This is a huge problem that I think humanity faces. I'm guilty of it, as are all the mothers I know. We have a mindset of how our lives should be and in particular for mothers;
Throw more than 1 mother in a room together and throw out the circumcision, breast feeding or discipline topic out there and someone's going to die.
For a lot of us, our kids become our identities. They are who WE are. We are parents. The behavior and ultimately who our children become reflects who we are, how we loved and taught our children and our wisdom as parents, for better or for worse.
For people like me, my first marriage ended in divorce. There was a void there that parenthood filled. For someone to tell me that I am doing something wrong as a parent is immediately interpreted as an attack on my ego and my identity. Kids don't come with instruction manuals and no article in the world is going to be able to tell me that I'm parenting my child incorrectly.
Why is that? Because I LOVE my kids. My kids are the center of my universe. I do what I think is best for them based on my experience, input from others and research. What works for me, will not work for other parents and it is not my right to tell anyone that they're wrong (abuse aside of course and "abuse" is a very tricky definition).
Because a child is left to CIO for example, does not mean they will become hellions. Because a child is spanked does not mean they will become delinquents. There needs to be a perfect storm. Different children raised in the same family the exact same way will grow to be completely different adults. There are too many factors for someone to make an all-encompassing assessment that if you "don't do this" or if you "do that" you're doing it incorrectly, you need to be taught how to do it correctly and immediately must be instructed because otherwise all of these other factors can and will occur.
I have to come to the conclusion that every one of these articles, judgements, fights all come from fear. The fears are;
Our children are the only thing we have complete responsibility for. Even when it comes to ourselves, we can turn our behavior into a result of our past history. We are shaping our children's lives from the ground up. It is absolutely TERRIFYING to have someone tell us that we may be doing something wrong with our children that may harm/kill/maim them or make them serial killers, drug users, etc.
No one has a right to vocalize any type of judgement against another parent (with the exception of "abuse" see above). Humans judge, it's natural, we can't do anything about it. It's not the emotion, it's how we choose to express it.
Articles will continue to be posted. Awareness will still continue to be raised. What we're missing here, at least in the groups I belong to is that (and I like to believe this applies to ALL of us) we're looking out for each other's children. We're not posting articles to flaunt how much of a better parent the other is. We're concerned for each other's feelings, well being and general happiness. It's an amazing thing, but it takes one miscommunicated word for all of that to disappear and anger to take hold.
Everyone wants to do what's best for their kids and if they don't, they need to have their head checked. No one knows what the "best thing for their kids" but the parents themselves. Our lives are formed by our very personal experiences. No one else can determine what those are unless they are part of that family and even then, it's limited.
Take what you see in the form of articles, advice or news and learn what you can from it, apply it if you'd like or don't. Be INFORMED. Read the entire article or nothing at all and get MANY sources, not just one and definitely not one paragraph.
Agree to disagree. No one really believes you don't love your children. Take advice at face value, an attempt to help what someone else sees as a problem for THEIR particular ways. They're just looking out for you. Sometimes it's welcome, a lot of times it's not.
Finally, for the love of all that is holy, if you don't like what someone else is saying, do not listen. There's enough hate, war and negativity in life to allow this to affect you and alienate yourself from a group of individuals that are going through the same experiences with child rearing that you are. We're all in this together. Open your mind, listen with your heart.
Rear Facing
I have my daughter rear facing in her car seat still and plan to do so for a long while. When I had my other children, it wasn't something I had heard of. However, the logic makes sense to me. The impact is absorbed by the seat itself in rear facing as opposed to just the strap which can cause a number of spinal, head and other injuries. The counter arguments range from uncomfortable, irritable, screaming children all the way to the inconvenience of rear facing them and not fitting in certain vehicles.
I have a van, I've rear faced my daughter's car seat in a Nissan Altima 2-door coupe which is tiny, with my husband driving (he's 6'5") knees up against the dash but the car seat fit in the center.
To hell with comfort and broken legs, if it saves my kid's life, I'm going to do it. One of the other things that convinced me was a ride on Space Mountain in France's Disneyland. I tried putting my head back and it wasn't working, I was jolted a bunch and had a killer headache afterward.
A lot of transit systems have half or better number of seats rear facing. The space shuttles have rear facing seats. Will I judge you if you don't rear face your kids? A little. However, it's your choice as a parent and I know that most parents won't do something to willingly hurt their kids.
Corporal Punishment
This is a sensitive subject for me because I got my ass kicked as a child. I don't get the logic of hitting your kid and telling them not to hit. I just can't wrap my head around it. How about what an article states about women being hit. That's not acceptable, but a child being hit is. We're talking spanking here, all things being equal, if disciplining your kid allows for spanking, if there's no anger behind disciplining your wife, is that acceptable or can anger not be removed from the act of hitting an adult?
I just can't bring myself to hurt my child who looks at me as if I'm God, because to my kids for a while, I am. Teaching by hitting only teaches not to get caught, I know from experience. The consequence is a spanking, not the actual consequence of the action. It removes I think, the act and what happens when the child does something unacceptable or dangerous (of course you won't let a child get hit by a car to prove a consequence, but I'm generalizing here).
How does hitting not teach a child that this is how problems get resolved? Mom and Dad resolve problems with the child in that manner. This is a time when everything parents do is gospel, so why is it ok for Mom and Dad to hit and not the child?
CIO
I tried to let Ava cry it out in her crib one night. ONE night. I was tired and I wanted to sleep and knew Ava was tired but she wouldn't sleep. I put her in her crib and knew the crying would commence. She cried, sobbed, reached for me and called my name. I read one particular article on the internet while she sobbed. To paraphrase, it stated, "A child cries and when they realize that their cries are not getting them the comfort that they need (parents) then they dissociate themselves from the parents. The parents are not coming to their comfort in a time of sorrow or agony or fright." How can I argue with that logic?
I can't stand to hear my child sobbing if I can make it better. Yes it's inconvenient to have a child in bed with you. Yes it does terrible things to your sex life, or lack thereof. However, it only last for a small amount of time. These are years you'll never get back. For the most part, all things being equal I haven't heard of a 15 year old sleeping in the same bed with Mom and Dad.
The "My way" interaction among mothers
This is a huge problem that I think humanity faces. I'm guilty of it, as are all the mothers I know. We have a mindset of how our lives should be and in particular for mothers;
- How our birthing experience should be.
- Whether we breast feed or bottle feed (and how long).
- Cloth or disposable diapers.
- What we feed our children once they go to solids and beyond (including drinks).
- How we discipline our children.
- How we educate our children.
- How we play with our children.
- How (and where) our children sleep.
- What the parental roles are.
- What our boundaries and rules for our children are.
- How we interact with extended family.
- Circumcision.
- Ear piercing.
Throw more than 1 mother in a room together and throw out the circumcision, breast feeding or discipline topic out there and someone's going to die.
For a lot of us, our kids become our identities. They are who WE are. We are parents. The behavior and ultimately who our children become reflects who we are, how we loved and taught our children and our wisdom as parents, for better or for worse.
For people like me, my first marriage ended in divorce. There was a void there that parenthood filled. For someone to tell me that I am doing something wrong as a parent is immediately interpreted as an attack on my ego and my identity. Kids don't come with instruction manuals and no article in the world is going to be able to tell me that I'm parenting my child incorrectly.
Why is that? Because I LOVE my kids. My kids are the center of my universe. I do what I think is best for them based on my experience, input from others and research. What works for me, will not work for other parents and it is not my right to tell anyone that they're wrong (abuse aside of course and "abuse" is a very tricky definition).
Because a child is left to CIO for example, does not mean they will become hellions. Because a child is spanked does not mean they will become delinquents. There needs to be a perfect storm. Different children raised in the same family the exact same way will grow to be completely different adults. There are too many factors for someone to make an all-encompassing assessment that if you "don't do this" or if you "do that" you're doing it incorrectly, you need to be taught how to do it correctly and immediately must be instructed because otherwise all of these other factors can and will occur.
I have to come to the conclusion that every one of these articles, judgements, fights all come from fear. The fears are;
- Destroying your child's future
- Creating a delinquent
- Affecting your child's mental, physical and emotional health negatively
- Affecting your child's development negatively
- Being a neglectful or abusive parent
- The discovery that you have "scarred" or "ruined" your child's life
Our children are the only thing we have complete responsibility for. Even when it comes to ourselves, we can turn our behavior into a result of our past history. We are shaping our children's lives from the ground up. It is absolutely TERRIFYING to have someone tell us that we may be doing something wrong with our children that may harm/kill/maim them or make them serial killers, drug users, etc.
No one has a right to vocalize any type of judgement against another parent (with the exception of "abuse" see above). Humans judge, it's natural, we can't do anything about it. It's not the emotion, it's how we choose to express it.
Articles will continue to be posted. Awareness will still continue to be raised. What we're missing here, at least in the groups I belong to is that (and I like to believe this applies to ALL of us) we're looking out for each other's children. We're not posting articles to flaunt how much of a better parent the other is. We're concerned for each other's feelings, well being and general happiness. It's an amazing thing, but it takes one miscommunicated word for all of that to disappear and anger to take hold.
Everyone wants to do what's best for their kids and if they don't, they need to have their head checked. No one knows what the "best thing for their kids" but the parents themselves. Our lives are formed by our very personal experiences. No one else can determine what those are unless they are part of that family and even then, it's limited.
Take what you see in the form of articles, advice or news and learn what you can from it, apply it if you'd like or don't. Be INFORMED. Read the entire article or nothing at all and get MANY sources, not just one and definitely not one paragraph.
Agree to disagree. No one really believes you don't love your children. Take advice at face value, an attempt to help what someone else sees as a problem for THEIR particular ways. They're just looking out for you. Sometimes it's welcome, a lot of times it's not.
Finally, for the love of all that is holy, if you don't like what someone else is saying, do not listen. There's enough hate, war and negativity in life to allow this to affect you and alienate yourself from a group of individuals that are going through the same experiences with child rearing that you are. We're all in this together. Open your mind, listen with your heart.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Not so daily cup of blog
It seems like I have been neglecting this blog and instead of it being a daily thing, it has become a random thing.
Moving on, I feel my parenting has started over. With Miss Ava, I have decided that I would like to change some ways that I have been parenting up to now. For example, for the first time in a while, I will be going to church, I'm taking the girls with me, but I would also like to give my girls a foundation of faith. It doesn't necessarily have to be of any denomination, but I would like it to be based in spirituality.
Something I was never directly taught was that prayer is not about asking for things to happen or to be done. Prayer is about asking for strength to get things accomplished. I truly believe that if your mind is set, you can achieve what you need/want. Fear is the enemy of goals. Ultimately, fear kills motivation and ambition. I would like to teach my girls that fear is an crippling factor. This does not necessarily have to be so. Healthy fear is normal, when it begins to affect your hopes and dreams to the point that you abandon them and give up, that type of fear is unhealthy.
I've been paying more attention to what I feed the kids and what we feed ourselves. Healthy mind, healthy body and all that....geez, I sound like a hippy. :)
Moving on, I feel my parenting has started over. With Miss Ava, I have decided that I would like to change some ways that I have been parenting up to now. For example, for the first time in a while, I will be going to church, I'm taking the girls with me, but I would also like to give my girls a foundation of faith. It doesn't necessarily have to be of any denomination, but I would like it to be based in spirituality.
Something I was never directly taught was that prayer is not about asking for things to happen or to be done. Prayer is about asking for strength to get things accomplished. I truly believe that if your mind is set, you can achieve what you need/want. Fear is the enemy of goals. Ultimately, fear kills motivation and ambition. I would like to teach my girls that fear is an crippling factor. This does not necessarily have to be so. Healthy fear is normal, when it begins to affect your hopes and dreams to the point that you abandon them and give up, that type of fear is unhealthy.
I've been paying more attention to what I feed the kids and what we feed ourselves. Healthy mind, healthy body and all that....geez, I sound like a hippy. :)
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