Tag Archives: Parenting

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That’s So Random

The first note to start of my unorganized random thoughts edition of today’s blog, I’d like to point out that I enjoy shamelessly promoting my first venture into sucking it up and publishing a story. You should enjoy buying it too, and for only $0.99 you didn’t really lose more than the equivalent of what change falls out of your pocket weekly without you knowing. Enjoy!

My first random thought brings me to the school shooting. I didn’t want to read the list of names of the victims. It’s not that I didn’t want the event to be humanized to me, as what the real intent of releasing those names to the public. It’s partly because it seems to me like it should be private, that these people should be allowed to mourn without having it all over the internet that their kid died. The reminder of those Christmas presents under the tree should be bad enough, they shouldn’t have to see the names everywhere they look. Plus, the selfish part of me admits I didn’t want to look and see my son’s name on that list because that would make it more real, and I didn’t think I could handle it. Against my better judgement I did look, and I did see my son’s name. I read the little note about him, I saw the picture. From then on, I realized more and more that could’ve easily been my son’s school and that could’ve been my son. It wasn’t though, and you can’t help but to feel guilty by being extremely happy for that. Sending him off to school made me be a little nervous, but unfortunately you can only do so much to protect your children, even if you are there every second.

My second random thought also is bordering about the shooting. I can’t help but be happy that Anonymous decided to hack into the Westboro Church member list and make it public to us. I won’t feel guilty if one of those bigoted loud mouths gets hunted down and killed, and I know I shouldn’t say things like that aloud but I mean I can’t be the only one who thinks that. It’s bad enough they go to our soldier’s funerals to protest for no other reason than to make themselves relevant, to protest these innocent children makes me wish that they had to go through the pain. Maybe it isn’t that God hates gay people, maybe God hates intolerance.

The Patriots were terrible last night and I fell asleep at halftime again. Apparently they became less terrible but not quite good enough to make up for all the terrible. The refs are terrible too, but I won’t blame them for the loss. The terrible calls by the refs didn’t make up for all the bad the Patriots did to themselves. I still love my team though, and they’ll do better next week.

My baby is growing up, rolling around on the floor like a champ and lunging forward. He’s a strong little bugger, and it’s hard to keep him down. It’s both awesome and sad to watch them grow so quickly. I love every second, and know that he’s doing so well because he has the love and care of people around him. There are worse things than growing up too fast. He’s very well mannered and just as perfect as his brother. So far (knock on wood), I’m 2 for 2 in the angelic children category.

In the end, you can’t protect your kids or shelter them forever. They are eventually going to find themselves in a position that is scary, they are eventually going to hear things on the news and they are eventually going to ask questions or be told things at school that go against our beliefs. You just have to make sure that you did your best to prepare them mentally for anything that they might come across on the news or in life. That’s our jobs as parents, to protect and prepare.

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An Unique Occassion

Today I am doing two things I never do: make a post about a tragedy and write a post on Saturday. I don’t like to join sensationalized media and don’t want to be viewed as making a profit/a name for myself by piggy backing off a huge tragedy. I also think you guys get sick of me on my normal 3 days, so why should I make you suffer a 4th? But the joy of writing is I do whatever I want, when I want for the sole reason of just expressing something to get it off my mind. If I start a meaningful conversation about a topic, then that just means maybe I did something right. In any case, this post is made more for my sanity to say something that I need to say more than to make a social commentary.

This isn’t going to be about the poor innocent kids that died yesterday. They deserve a lot more respect than they are being given. We don’t need to see a grade schooler commenting on what happened; she needs to be with her family grieving. At some point, journalists forgot they were supposed to report correct and honest unbiased and unagenda-ed news and were there to offer some level of integrity that us lowly people should aspire to. Instead, they spout of repeatedly inaccurate information that differs between every person who views any news. On minute this guy is a suspect, a villain and then it turns out “whoops, we were wrong guys”. The news was more concerned with trying to be the first to report things than giving the people who want to know and understand what’s going on actual facts. Was the shooter a child of a teacher? Maybe. The only thing they seemed to get right were those heart wrenching death tolls. I’m not only mourning those kids, but the hard fact that the people reporting the news don’t really seem to care anymore. But, they were first.

Then, there is gun control. During a tragedy is probably the last time you want talk about this. I care more about what happened and think there’s a level of disrespect to run a commentary on gun control while we’re trying to swallow this news. Give it a day, journalists, at least. The sad truth is gun control wouldn’t help in this case, he stole them. Should there be a psych evaluation and a waiting period on people who want guns? Absolutely I agree. Do I think this would help? Probably not, the sad truth is if someone wants to get a hold on guns to kill a ton of people, they’ll figure out a way. Then who’s to say that’d even help? People can Google how to make a bomb, if they want a mass of people dead they can figure it out.

It’s sickening to me. We need to worry about looking at our kids, thankful they are here with us. We need to look at this tragedy and view is as nothing more than that. Sure, we want to know what’s going on but I’d rather have 100% accurate facts the day after, then be confused for the day it happened. I enjoy hearing both sides of gun control, but I’d enjoy it more if the advocates waited a few days to mention it as to not make martyrs out of these kids for their own agenda.

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My Face Was Red With Anger and Awe…

… while I wrote out the check.

Several years ago, my son seemed to have a cold that just wasn’t going away. After what seemed like the 3rd week of a bad cold, I took him to the doctors. It turned out that my son just from lack of contact with many kids prior, just didn’t quite have the immunities so every cold he came into contact with, he got. While there, the doctor noticed my kindergartener had a tissue stuck up his nose. At the time, I had awful insurance with a $600 premium and a $4000 deductible because for some ungodly reason I didn’t qualify for cheaper insurance. (Thanks Romneycare.) The politics isn’t the point, the point happens here.

The doctor was our new doctor, so it was only our 3rd visit with him. This doctor took a pair of tweezers and pulled the tissue out of his nose. Easy and done, right? I thought so until when I got the bill for the visit, I had to pay $700: $100 for the visit and $600 for “object removal”. I called my insurance company, and since we were so healthy we didn’t need our deductible I had to pay for object removal. When I told her the object that was removed, she laughed with a “tough poop” attitude. (I don’t miss you Blue Cross, but I do love you Tufts.) I immediately decided to call the doctor’s office billing center to reason with this. She laughed when I told her my story, and when I thought I was going to get sympathy I get that “so would you like a payment plan?” No, I’d like you not to charge me $600 to pull a tissue out of my kid’s nose.

I forgot that story for a while. Then I got a bill from a Pathology department shortly after my return from the hospital for the items that come out after your birth. (Seriously, I thought they threw that out, not send it out for testing that costs $200.) It came back to me how much in awe I am for some things we end up getting charged with and for how much. This became even more apparent when I received a bill in the mail over the weekend from the doctor’s office. My newborn son had one rare condition that will hopefully be easily fixed in a few months by surgery. He had another rare-ish condition called “umbilical granuloma”, which is a fancy way of saying “part of the umbilical cord is still there and needs to be removed”. The doctor said all we needed was some nitrate and it’d heal right up. He took a q-tip looking thing and put it on my son’s belly button. It did exactly what he said and all was mostly fine. Then, I get my son’s first bill of all neonatal services done and I just quickly looked saying “$144 isn’t bad.” It wasn’t until I read the bill to write out the check when I noticed all the hospital services were free. That $144 was for a q-tip. I looked up in anger and said to my husband “that doctor has expensive supplies. A $600 set of tweezers and a $144 q-tip!”

This made me wonder if the real issue with healthcare wasn’t the cost of the insurance itself. Maybe the problem is really with the doctors and hospitals and the ridiculous prices on necessary services. I cringe to think of the monetary issues with the surgery as well as the “holy crap, my baby needs surgery”. I think the problem is the medical offices are allowed to charge whatever they want on things and there’s nothing as a patient or a consumer that you can do about it, which I guess is a problem with the insurance too. They choose what they cover and what they don’t, and don’t see a problem with these costs because everybody wins. Right? By everyone, I obviously mean the heads of these hospitals and insurance companies, because the everyday person that needs these services are definitely not the winners here.

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From Typewriters to iPads?

In a conversation with my dear friend, we realized how crazy different things are now than when we were in school. Her son started Kindergarten this year, while my son is a seasoned 4th grader. The conversation started when my husband came home, embarrassed that this intern that is following him around at work “basically” called him old. (Take note: my husband is 27.) He drove by someplace and pointed out that there was a game store in this plaza that doesn’t exist anymore and he reminisced about his game genie. While I smiled remembering the game genie, he pointed out that this intern didn’t know what it was and he had to explain it to him. Then, the intern made a look like my husband was old and my husband carried that embarrassment home with it.

After he left, we started talking about our kids at school. She mentioned this interactive white board that the schools have now. Last year they didn’t have them, but this year I remembered playing with the one in my son’s class during open house. Then I mentioned that my son’s school has an iPad for the kids, and she said “my son’s does too”. We sighed for a moment, how could we not? Admittedly, these schools have nice fancy things to teach our kids with now. Then we felt old.

When I was in grade school, we had one computer each classroom from 3rd grade and up. The computers were nothing, and we played Oregon Trail on it. In middle school, we had to take typing… on a typewriter with this jerk of a teacher. My friend, who went to middle school with me, laughed pointing out how we had to do “Space Space X Space” etc. to make pictures print out. Yes, we used typewriters to make boring designs on papers. Now, our kids have iPads.

Times have changed, and technology will always get better. Unfortunately, we’re at an age now where we can say “I remember when  _______” and we feel incredibly old doing so. I bet my husband’s intern doesn’t know that “Jan died of dysentery”. But we can sit there and laugh and remember repeating that for days after playing a level of Oregon Trail. Our kids wouldn’t know what to do with a typewriter if they saw one, and just look at it wondering why there was no monitor. It isn’t a bad thing, technology advancing gives us more tools to have successful and longer/healthier lives. I don’t care how old these changes make me feel, you can keep them coming. Except iPads, Apple fan boys really need to learn that there are better stuff out there. Every other technology can carry on though.

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My Name is Brianne, and I’m an Ephebiphobic.

Made you Google that word, didn’t I? Even if you didn’t, I’m going to pretend that you did to make myself smile that I was able to cause my readers to something. The word itself isn’t entirely correct for this purpose; my  issue doesn’t simply lie with children that are teenagers. I simply have an issue with kids. I’m not ashamed to admit this fact: I have a problem with kids, they make me feel uneasy.

I love my sons, and this doesn’t apply to them. My own spawns are immune to this general feeling I have. I understand them, I know what to do with them. I’m more comfortable around them. I excel at mothering them. Throw another kid in the mix? I have no clue at all, and it makes me anxious. I don’t know what to do with these little people running around my house, screaming and hitting each other. My instinct is to threaten to throw poopy diapers at their head, because it’s not painful and very hilarious. (Seriously, imagine a bratty kid covered in poop. Try not to laugh.) Would I throw one at my kid? No way. Would I throw one at my nephews for being annoying? Definitely, or at least they know well enough not to find out.

I wonder if it has to do with the fact that people are most comfortable with their own kids. Or something more. I remember when my first niece and nephew was born. I never had an urge to hold them or coo over them. Though, I don’t coo over my children either. I speak to them as I would an adult, minus the inappropriate things that come out of my mouth. Babies are stinky balls of poop and drool, and the 14-year-old me wanted nothing to do with all that. I don’t think I ever really wanted kids until I had my first son. Then I realized I liked my kid, just had a problem with other kids that weren’t mine. I go to birthday parties for kids a lot now, and a friend laughed at me as a bunch ran by yelling and throwing torn paper napkins at one another and I muttered “I hate kids”. There might be truth there, I definitely hate annoying kids.

Maybe I just don’t feel comfortable around other kids, related or not. I don’t know  how to relate to them, nor do I get a giddy desire to play with them. I smile at the cute ones, I can smile at them. Ask my friends how many times I’ve asked to hold their babies, I don’t recall ever doing that. I’m good with kids, I’m great with them. I wonder if that makes me weird, that feeling of disconnect with other children. It’s not to say that I don’t love the little ones in my family, I just admire them from afar. It’s one thing to drop your own child on his head; you drop another person’s kid you suddenly become the devil.

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And He Laughed… and Squealed. And It Was Perfect.

You spend 40 weeks with this monster growing inside of you. You’re happy, but the time you spend with your head over the toilet or dreading the numbers on the scale makes you wonder why you got yourself into this mess. All the planning in the world doesn’t help you at that moment. All you can do is sit and imagine the little person’s first smile or laugh and dream of its personality and you hope that reminds you of why you’re doing this.

Pregnancy isn’t for control freaks. You can’t control anything really, and you’ll lie to yourself if you think you can. Those people who freak out in the delivery room because they lose control should’ve done one thing to prepare: let go of the idea you can control everything. The minute you do that, it does get a lot easier. Do you go “I can’t wait to get induced and have extremely painful contractions that are worse than natural labor” when you find out you’re pregnant? Do you think “Hey, let’s just cut me open right now and get this sucker out because his heartbeat kept dipping”? I doubt either of these things were ever said. The reality is when you’re there in that moment, anything can happen and you need to prepare mentally for the fact that whatever happens you had no control over.

My midwife said that I did the best thing I could for myself when I when in for my induction. I studied enough about what was going to happen to not get freaked out but to be fully prepared mentally. I went into the hospital with the expectation that everything I didn’t want to happen was going to happen and I was going to get a c-section and a healthy baby. I was mentally prepared that I had no control over any outcome, but was mentally ready for the worst case. I was elated that my mental scenario didn’t happen.

It doesn’t end there, control freaks. You think that once that kid is born you regain control. Excuse me a moment, I just laughed a little. You can’t control a baby, it controls you. You might believe parenting books when they say “you just lay them down and they’ll know it’s bedtime”. The fact is sometimes you lay them down and they squeal with delight for playtime. They say “schedule feedings”, but I wonder if they actually had a kid. You can’t control when they eat or how much they eat when they do. You can’t control how many diapers they use in a week and you definitely can’t control when they wake up at night. Just know that this lack of control should help you know in life, you just can’t control everything. At least letting go of this control is worth it with the glowing smile and the high-pitched squealy laugh your little one shows off to let you know he loves you too.

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Text Text Text

A prepost shameless self promotion: my first short story publication is on sale now in e-book form on Amazon Kindle store for $0.99. It’s cheaper than most candy and you should definitely check it out. The link to my author page is on the side bar.

My husband and I have debated a while now, whether we should give our now 10-year-old social butterfly a cellphone. It wasn’t so much a debate as my flat-out refusal. Maybe I refused because I didn’t want to admit he was growing up, maybe I refused because I’m cheap. Maybe I refused because I just simply thought 10 was way to young to have a cellphone.

My husband needed to upgrade his phone, and ended up with that incredibly large Note II. While there, my husband got the sales rep to convince me that only good things could come of our son having this cellphone. He had me at “you can GPS track him”. I agreed, and he walked away with a smartphone, because what’s $10 extra from the basic phone when you’re already paying that much for a phone. Our son was elated, his cousins all had a phone and he jealously looked on. My son isn’t one to beg for anything, he asks a few times but gives up a spoken fight. Now, he had something he never dared to ask for and he couldn’t have been happier. He immediately downloaded every free Angry Bird game, including that Bad Piggy one. He had me download Fun. “Some Nights” as his ringtone. He immediately started playing games on it. Then, while I was in the other room working while he played next to Daddy with their new phones, I realized my upside: I was able to text him “Go brush your teeth”… and he did.

I didn’t realize the other benefits until he went over his grandmother’s house to spend the weekend. He constantly texted us and called us. We found out that he might actually miss us when we’re not around, and that made me a very happy Mom. He constantly texted that he loved us, or that they had bought him fast food, or that he played Halo 4 and it was awesome. I felt better about flip-flopping my stance on him having a phone because he’s an incredible little boy, and that phone helped me realize I may have done a great job with him and would do a great job with our new one.

I look at my growing too fast newborn/infant. He rolls over like a champ, and rolls to his side to move around the floor. He’s only 2 months, but he seems bigger. He seems like he’s just getting too big. They both are getting too big, and while that makes us sad as parents, we should look on with pride and not teary eyes of sadness. This should be a sign that we did something very right to watch our children excel as nicely as they are.

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It’s Officially Been a Decade

Today, my oldest wakes up a 10-year-old. I keep telling him to not get his hopes up, that he won’t technically be 10 until he gets home from school. I wonder if I’m delaying it for me or him. I’m not entirely sure if I’m delaying it because he’s getting older or because that means I am. Either way, my baby is officially entered into the double-digit ages.

It’s sad in either case, but mostly because it’s actually a little difficult watching the kids get older. I’m by no means an emotional person, but I become a little softie when it comes to my boys. According to the paperwork from his doctors’ office, he’s a tween. A tween? I remember when I didn’t want to admit he was a potty trained toddler though that was an incredible day realizing you were done with diapers. Of course, until you realize you’re still cleaning up his poop just instead of in a diaper it’s all over the walls and toilet. And even the “oops” in the bathtub. A tween? Scary.

I cringe every time he says, “Mom, I’m almost a teen!” I’m not ready for that. I wonder if I’m not ready for that because I don’t want him to grow up or because I’m convinced all kids become the devil when they become the dreaded teenager. Maybe my son will prove me wrong, and not all teenagers are Satan spawns. I try to hope, but something tells me I shouldn’t get my hopes up. Maybe if I keep the fear alive in him of being punished he’ll stay my sweet angel.

Whatever the case, he’s growing into a fine young man and I have faith that if he continues on this direction he really will change the world. Or at least whatever place he finds himself. Eventually we as parents need to step back and cross our fingers that we raised them right and set examples for them that they can use to become amazing adults. I can take comfort any moment I hide my teary eyed pride that, at least in this moment, he’s on the right path to be an incredible grown man. But he’ll still be my little munchkin that walked around Wal-Mart with his pants down to his ankles because he was too small to fit in his clothes but didn’t have enough words to say more than “uh oh’s” to let me know there was a problem.Happy 10 lil’ man.

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Congrats, It’s a Turkey!

Last week I mentioned my oldest son was doing his student council duties and attending to his shift at the canned food drive the student council was putting on for the local soup kitchen. He was happy to report that his 4th graders did beat all the other grades by bringing in 125 cans, happily noting that 10 of them were ours. He tallied them up and they had received 450 cans, well shy of the 625 cans they had hoped to reach. With a heavy heart, my son announced to his school that they hadn’t reached their goals but that they did a great job. 450 cans were a lot better than none. Still, he was disappointed that they didn’t at least achieve the goal they set. I told him that they did a great job, and that soup kitchen was 450 cans richer.

I tried to teach him the most important lesson of all, something I try to tell him every chance I get: holidays aren’t the only time of year you need to do good things, you should do them every day. Change in the world and helping others isn’t something you can accomplish one or two days a year. To accomplish these goals you need to work every day of your life and urge your children to do the same. Eventually, it’ll stick whether it be a year from now or generations. It shouldn’t matter whether or not we can see the change, but knowing somewhere you were a part of the change should be amazing enough.

I hope my children learn this lesson. Thanksgiving may be a time of year for helping and eating a ton of turkey and pie, but it’s a reminder that there’s still a lot of work to be done around us. We need to forget that these holidays exist for any other reason than an excuse to see family, drink a lot, and forget that you’re on a diet. We should remember that homeless and poor people don’t just exist once or twice a year, that they have to live their life that way and we should help them in some way when we can. You don’t need money to help, you just need to have the time.

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Pride and Trepidation

Before I get into my post, I would like to say how proud I am of my older son. Today as part of his student council duties is collecting canned goods for the student council food drive to help our local soup kitchen. The fourth grade seems to be winning their competition for what he called “the best prize of all: the warm fuzzy feeling of helping people in need”. I don’t know what I did, but I must’ve done something right. That boy will change the world I think.

Now that we got the “pride” part of our title out of the way, I enter into the “trepidation”. As my last post pointed out, I was terrified at the idea of publishing my chapter-ed short story. I always tell my son, “sometimes no matter how afraid you are, you need to suck it up and dive head first”. That post made me realize that I said a typical parental hypocritical statement. How could I tell him “you can be anything in the world you want to be if you want it enough” and “just hold your worries and do it” if I wasn’t going to do the same. As parents it’s our job to show our children that you need to always aim higher to accomplish goals, no matter how impossible it seems. Teaching your child to settle for what they have in life, to me, teaches them that they don’t need to dream and that settling for mediocrity is ok. (I know I’ve said this point a dozen times, but it needs to be emphasized.) It’s never ok to settle.

I took this to heart, and took and deep breath and uploaded my story to Kindle epublishing. Yes, I am officially published. So you can own this piece of art for only $0.99 on the Kindle. Don’t have a Kindle? Get a nice Kindle app on your phone, iPad, other tablet, etc. The title you ask? “Teagan” by Brianne LaRochelle.

I’m terrified. I’m afraid that I failed at that the story is crap and people will insult me and I’ll decide to give up instead of getting better. But if I didn’t just suck it up and do it, I’ll never know if people actually will enjoy it. I’d never know if following my dreams of writing would pay off. Most importantly though, I’d never be able to tell my sons that “mommy was scared, and she did it anyways.” Our actions, as unimportant as they seem, will always affect our children because they look up to us to show them everything.