Props to the mom

On Monday, I took the babies in for their six-month checkup. N is still a petite person, and A2 is an inch taller and almost two pounds heavier. No surprises there. But there was a surprise--a pleasant one, actually.

I had been gearing myself up for the "flu vaccine talk." Disclaimer: I am not against vaccines in general. I understand and support their use overall. However, I am not in favor of the way they jam them into our babies at such a rapid rate, all before they're two years old. I just don't think it's the best thing for their immune systems to be bombarded with so many different things, even if they are just vaccines. For the most part, we've done our kids' vaccines on schedule, with just a few later than normal. Our pediatrician has finally learned not to bug me about it. He started out years ago making awesome comments like, "Well you know, if you wait a few months to vaccinate, it's like you're driving your baby around without a carseat the whole time." Nice guilt trip, doc. But, I think the nurses must have put a note in our file (I'd love to see what that note said) because they don't push it as much anymore.

At the four-month appointment, the nurse (I think she was a student nurse practitioner) brought up the flu vaccine. The babies were too young at the time, but she was encouraging me to have the older three vaccinated. I told her our kids have strong immune systems and if they were to get the flu, I thought they'd be ok. She said that was fine. The doctor also brought up the subject later, but I pretty much nodded my head and ignored him.

So, I was a little stressed going into Monday's appointment because at six months, the babies were both eligible for the vaccine. I knew what I wanted to do, but when confronted with the medical establishment, it can be hard to stick with my plan. And also, I hate confrontations with a passion. They make me extremely nervous. But when it comes to my kids, I do have a little more gumption.

Anyway, we saw the nurse practitioner on Monday (a real one, not a student). We've seen her before and she's great. She mentioned the flu shot, but after I went through a bit of my rehearsed speech, she said, "I can respect that. No problem."

Wow. It was so nice to feel like my decision as a mom was not just tolerated, but respected. I know my kids and their bodies. I know their bodies are strong, and not because we're magically healthy all the time, but because we actually give them supplements to help their immune systems be strong. We've used antibiotics ONCE for my kids. Not once for each kid--ONCE total. I'm confident that if my kids do get the flu, they may get sick for a few days, but they will be ok.

I'm not saying anything about anyone who chooses to get the flu vaccine, because I do think it can do a lot of good. I think it's a trickier one since they have to guess the year before about which strain will be the most dominant the next year, but for high-risk groups, it can provide a lot of protection for a potentially nasty virus.

I think as moms it can be easy (or at least easy for me) to feel cowed or bullied by doctors or teachers or people in authority. Of course, they have extra schooling and expertise and it's important to defer to their knowledge in a lot of cases. But sometimes, a mom just knows best--like when I literally had to convince our pediatrician that N had reflux. He was sure it was a formula allergy because she didn't puke at every feeding and wasn't screaming all the time, like a classic case of reflux. But I had done my homework and I knew in my heart what was wrong. When I finally talked him into the Prevacid, she was a ton better a few days later.

Anyway, it was just nice to feel vindicated in the good decisions I make for my family.

Getaway

Some people wouldn't call it a "getaway" if they took two of their kids with them. But when those kids are sweet, smiley babies who eat, roll around, and play, it's really no trouble at all. A and I went out of town for the weekend, and A's mom kindly watched the three older kids. While he biked during the day, the babies and I enjoyed quiet time together. It was kind of rainy and A was worried that I would get stir crazy inside all day with the babies. I assured him that I relish days spent without little people whining and bugging me for things. I read books, watched movies, and napped while they napped. It was heaven. Oh, and A had fun biking with friends. :)


Now that they're six months old, the babies would like to showcase a few tricks for everyone.

N can sit up now.


And who could resist that cute of a pose?

Not to be outdone, A2 has some fancy moves of his own.

Gearing up to crawl (they'll both be taking off any day now--aah!)


Baby acrobatics (note the awesome drool)

Claustrophobia

I don't really have this disease, but sometimes I do have tendencies toward it--especially in the middle of sacrament meeting. I've dealt with it on some level since I've had kids, but it's gotten infinitely worse since the twins were born. It always feels like all three of the older kids are climbing all over me, sitting as close to me as they possibly can, and trying kiss or touch whichever baby I happen to be holding at the time. Coupled with the fact that we're squished onto a small bench, and I'm wearing a skirt that keeps creeping higher up my leg and nylons that get snagged about five minutes into the meeting... and I usually can't wait to drop them all off at Primary so I can actually breathe.

I plan so meticulously (some--my husband--would say too meticulously) to make sure we get there early so we can sit on the soft benches. But can anyone tell me how to plan it so that I don't feel like running out of the room, screaming?

Liberty

"... it is religion and morality alone, which can establish the principles upon which freedom can securely stand. The only foundation of a free Constitution is pure virtue, and if this cannot be inspired into our People in a greater Measure than they have it now, they may change their rules and the forms of government, but they will not obtain a lasting liberty."
John Adams

For the past few weeks, I've been working my way through the John Adams miniseries. I heard good things about it, and it has really lived up to the hype. It is extremely well done, with fantastic performances especially by Paul Giamatti (John Adams) and Laura Linney (Abigail Adams). I was moved by Linney's portrayal of Abigail, a woman who was separated from her husband for years at a time, all while raising children a few miles away from the hotbed of conflict in Boston, Massachusetts.

Watching this, I have felt so much gratitude for the sacrifices of the men and women of the Revolutionary Era. I've gained a real sense of the passion for their cause, their anxiety about whether or not the United States would stand the test of time, and their struggles to navigate their way through the early conflicts and resolutions of our country.

During the scene in which George Washington is sworn in as the first President, he adds in a phrase at the end, "So help me, God." It's not known for sure if he actually did this, but whether he did or not, I was struck by the deep religious sentiment that the scene underscores. Most of the founders were religious men. I can't help but think that some of them must have prayed as they wrote speeches, labored over the documents that would become the foundation of our government, and held positions in our first years as a nation.

Watching this movie has made me want to study the Declaration of Independence again, study the Constitution and its articles and amendments--and teach both to my kids. So many teenagers (and adults, for that matter) have little or no real knowledge of these two documents, beyond the bits they memorize in school. We need to read them, understand them, and fight to keep intact the integrity of what they espouse. I think that's the only way we'll truly preserve the freedoms we enjoy as a nation.

The cheapskate turns a new leaf

I am a cheapskate, but this fact has never bothered me. I'm not really someone who loves shopping for bargains; rather, I hate going shopping at all. I think part of it is because I've never had a ton of money, so shopping usually just depresses me. This also extends to other areas of life. I keep our house cold in the winter and warm in the summer. When my husband complains that it's freezing, I tell him what my dad always used to tell me: "Go put on a sweater."

Being a tightwad, I've never bought myself a diaper bag. When S was born, my mother gave me a very nice Land's End bag. I think it died around the time H was a few years old. So, I pulled out one of the free ones from the hospital and used that. Went through a few of those until they died as well. When the twins were born, somehow we missed the giveaways from the hospital. I was SO mad about this but by the time I realized it, it was the next day and how was I going to prove to the nurses that they hadn't given me the free stuff already? I didn't really want all of the baby magazines, but the free formula and diaper bags would definitely have come in handy.

So, I wiped down the old free bag and started using it again. With two babies, you can imagine it was rather full--like, I could never close it, it was so full. I hated digging for stuff all throughout the bag and never having what I needed right away. But I would have never suggested buying a new one. Cheapskates just don't do things like that.

For Christmas, lovely family members gave us cash (because A and I couldn't think of anything to ask for). Having cash that I *have* to use for fun is both a blessing and a burden. It's fun to buy things and not worry (or worry less) about how much they cost, but I usually have trouble spending the money. My husband will combine cash gifts on a big item like a new backpack for camping, or new hiking shoes, and be done in a day or so. I'll hold on to cash for months. This time around, though, I actually got a few nice things--cute shirts, jeans from a store other than Wal-mart, and a nice skirt.

One day A said to me, "You really should think about getting a real diaper bag." I almost answered back with my usual, "I don't need it; this one is just fine." But then I thought, "Hey--I have money to use, and that would actually be a great purchase." I did some research and really liked the looks (and consumer reviews) of Skip Hop bags. I almost got the Skip Hop Duo Deluxe but really liked the extra compartments in the Skip Hop Duo Double Deluxe (I know, could these names be any longer?). The $80 price tag gave me a lot of pause, but I finally did it. Behold, my first real diaper bag:
I almost got it in black, but I'm glad I went with "Uptown Stripe" instead. Yes, it's a big bag, but remember how I have five children? I needed a big bag. I feel like a new woman already.

Sickies

The older kids are coughing. Not horrible coughs, but coughs nonetheless. It started with T on Saturday night. He woke up with a croupy cough so I kept him home from church and dinner at Grandma's house. He was quite a bit better by yesterday. H has coughed a few times with the barky cough and S was up late coughing, so I'm keeping both of them home from school today, just to be safe. Although, all three of them are running around playing, so perhaps that wasn't completely necessary. I banned the older three from touching the twins starting on Sunday, so we'll see if the babies can stay relatively well. With all of them home from school and me still having to work, it's going to be an awesome day. Luckily, the maid showed up today, even though she isn't feeling 100%. (Like a true woman, she works even when she doesn't feel well.)
She only really does light work like dusting, sweeping, and washing her pretend dishes, but hey, I hate dusting so it works for me! Also, her schedule (self-imposed, I might add) is a killer. Cooking dinner and baking in the desert?! Perhaps that's baking dessert.... :)

How I keep my girlish figure... by N Bee

1. When eating, I don't worry about paying too much attention to the task at-hand. If Dad (or anyone else) walks into the room I just let that formula dribble down my chin. A smile for Dad is much more important than getting nourishment. This also works well for any type of noise I happen to hear.
2. Since Mom can't put me on the floor too much because of my reflux issues, I spend a fair amount of time in my bouncy seat. This chair is aptly named because I find it worthwhile to bounce up and down so much I almost fall out... pretty much every single time. Toys are nice, but I always seem to drop them in my wild bouncing.
3. Also while in the bouncy chair, I have discovered a great way to work on my abs. Instead of reclining like some lazy baby, I sit up so I can watch my family and work those pesky core muscles.
4. In general, I find that keeping up constant motion is the overall best way to keep my girlish figure. Standing on Mom's lap? Jump up and down repeatedly. Sitting in my carseat? Strain against the seatbelt. Lying on the floor? Roll over/Scoot backwards on back/Balance on hands and tiptoes--or some combination of the above.

Observations... by A2 Bee

A2 with Aunt M

1. When eating, it's best to have 100% focus on the task at-hand. If Dad tries to get my attention, I just ignore him. Loud noises? Pay no attention. Focus gets the job done, and makes my thighs nice and fat.
2. The moose Grandma T. got me for Christmas? Best. toy. ever. The crinkly legs, the ringing bell, the hard ears to suck on--oh, how I love it.
3. Second-best toy ever--either the empty wipes package or the couch. Have you ever scratched your fingernails on my couch? It's awesome.
4. That N girl moves around way too much for someone so small. Hasn't she realized that when you're patient, you notice the world a whole lot more? Slow down, little girl. You're missing out on all the cool details.
5. When lying on the floor, I find that rolling over repeatedly and turning around in circles are great ways to get to what I want. I've found pieces of paper, fun toys my siblings have left around, and more. Also, why won't the pattern on the rug come off? I've been scratching at it for days and days, but nothing happens.

Responsible party

I took the kids to the dentist this morning (obviously the three older ones because the twins don't so much have teeth). And incidentally, I'd like to add how glad I am that this task only comes around once every six months. I've always hated going to the dentist, but I'm not sure why. My dentist growing up was a very nice man. And I only had like one cavity--ever. I just hate the smell of the dentist office and the whole ordeal of having someone scraping and cleaning my teeth. Yuck.

Back to the original story. While in the waiting room, I was updating some paperwork for T. When I signed my name in the "Responsible party" box and wrote "mother" on the "relationship to patient" line, it really got me thinking. Whenever I have to fill out paperwork like that, I'm always struck by the thought that I am someone's mother. And not just one someone, but five of them. Sometimes I still feel like a kid myself, much less someone who should be responsible for the welfare of other human beings.

I mean, it's all well and good to have babies--sweet, snuggly, babies who are perfectly happy with anything you do. But then those babies grow up to be real people; and you're responsible for teaching them and molding their personalities. There's that word again--responsible. With this thought process, I didn't necessarily have any epiphanies about how exactly to feel less overwhelmed by being the responsible party--more just a realization once again that my husband and I have been entrusted with five little people to love, care for, and teach everything we can to before we send them off into the world to become their own responsible parties.

Switcheroo

If you've never seen the inside of my house, then the above pictures won't mean much. If you have been here, you'll (hopefully) see that we've made some major changes recently. In preparation for splitting up the twins into two cribs, we came to the realization that S's room might accommodate three boys better than the current boys' room would. So, over the holidays, my brother-in-law and my husband switched beds and furniture for both rooms. My bro-in-law also assembled both cribs (our crib and a borrowed one from wonderful neighbors). And then I followed with decor, closet stuff, and misc. items. (Almost all of the quilts on the walls were made by my very talented mother.)

It was a lot of work but we're hoping it will be the best scenario in the long run. The older kids were really excited to make the change. S said it was the best day of her life, and H said sleeping in his new bed felt really good. I didn't have the heart to tell him it was the same bed as before...