My Southern Belle Says Dawg and Cawll

We are big fans of Nick Jr. around here. Yo Gabba Gabba, Wow Wow Wubzy, Wonder Pets - Nick Jr. is our channel of choice. Not that we actually watch it, but it provides great background noise during playtime. The only time Miss Paige really tunes into it is when her favs - Moose and Zee - pop up between programs. She watches their memory and matching games and shouts at the TV like she really just found the matching puzzle piece. Gotta love her enthusiasm : )

So today, Moose and Zee were doing a rhyming game, and the word to rhyme with was "DOG". No problem, right? WRONG! Well, wrong if your mama is a transplant from New York and still has an accent on certain words - coffee (caw-fee), talk (tawlk), hall (hawll), water (war-ter), etc. Dog happens to be on of those words (dawg). So when the options came up as a rhyming word for Dog, I panicked. Here were the options: House. Car. Frog. The obvious answer is Frog - duh. But when you say "Dawg" for Dog and don't say "Frawg" for Frog, they don't rhyme. I don't say "Frawg". I say "Frog". The next set of rhymes came up, again to match up with DOG. The options were: Shoe. Cat. Hog. OH JEEZ! I don't say "Hawg". I say "Hog".

And then my mind started racing... am I setting my children up for failure when it comes to rhyming? And what about spelling?! Ok, that is a little dramatic. But it never occurred to me that having Miss Paige mimic my speech patterns could have a negative effect. Will her teachers think she's crazy? Will they try and correct her speech? I saw a Dateline once where they featured adults who "mysteriously" began speaking with English accents (a la Britney Spears circa 2006). She is already saying Dog, Call and Ball with a NY accent. Ay yi yi.

So now I have a dilemma: Can I change the way I speak, when the accent is already ingrained in me and it's use is subconscious? Do I need to? Can I just explain to her that Mommy says things differently (as does one half of her family tree!)? At the end of the day, does it even really matter?

I remember in first grade having a teacher's aid tell me I was writing my lowercase cursive "o" incorrectly. I was writing it like my sister did - with a little loop dipping into the "o" rather than just having it go straight across the top. I remember informing her - yes, at the wise old age of 6 - that I wasn't doing it "wrong" - just differently. And in my mind, that was fine.

I know in my heart Paige isn't going to have long term issues if she happens to say some words with a NY accent. There are a lot worse things in the world that she could do: like root for the Florida Gators or Auburn Tigers : ) Just kidding... (although my husband, Daniel, doesn't think there is anything funny about that). GO GEORGIA BULLDAWGS!!!

Breastfeeding: Public Nudity and Sexual Exhibitionism?

There are a lot of messed up things in this world. Breastfeeding is not one of them.

Over the past two weeks, we've been bombarded with stories of products and offerings that not only prey on the innocence of children, but can ultimately be destructive to them as they develop into individuals. First there was news a few months back of Abercrombie offering "push up triangle" string bikini tops for children as young as 7 and 8: http://edition.cnn.com/2011/BUSINESS/03/26/abercrombie.bikini.controversy/index.html  Next came the Sketcher Shape Ups for children so they can firm up their legs and butts: http://www.myfoxdfw.com/dpp/news/national/051611-parents-protest-skechers-shape-ups-for-girls  And the final straw came just last week, when a mother went on national TV describing how she gives her young daughter injections of Botox in order to help her keep up with the competitive pageant circuit: http://www.ocregister.com/articles/girls-300919-sneakers-young.html

What the fuzzball??

Yes, Abercrombie has changed it's online description of the controversial bikini top from "push up" to "removable padding". Sketchers has said it is only encouraging young girls to exercise (because I guess regular sneakers can't be used for exercise?). And the Botox-injecting mom has lost custody of her daughter as she is being investigated by child services in California. Public outcry - most likely from the mama bears - was heard loud and clear.

So with all these messed up things going on all around us (the above being only a teeny, tiny example of the extent of the foolishness), why has local government decided to target an issue that doesn't harm - but instead helps - children. It's healthy. It's natural. It's not offensive. And a small suburb of Atlanta, GA - Forest Park, GA - has just banned it. What is it? BREASTFEEDING!!

That's right. Forget about crime rates, about unemployment, about government corruption - the local government of Forest Park, GA has decided to focus it's time, energy and tax-payer dollars on banning breastfeeding in public. Think I'm lying? Read about it here: http://www.wsbtv.com/news/27920007/detail.html and here http://www.parenting.com/blogs/show-and-tell/melanie-parentingcom/public-breastfeeding-banned-atlanta-area


Here are the "highlights":

A new law in metro Atlanta will ban breastfeeding a child older than 2 in public areas as part of a public indecency ordinance, reports WSB-TV, a local ABC affiliate. 

On Monday evening, in a misguided effort to prevent public nudity, a new public indecency ordinance was passed in Forest Park, Georgia, a small city about 9 miles south of Atlanta. According to the new law, women cannot publicly breastfeed a child older than 2 years of age. City manager John Parker said of the law, “It sets up a process whereby we can try to control nudity throughout the entire city,” and called it a proactive step.

Control public nudity?! What is really going on in Forest Park?! Is public nudity that rampant among its residents? I'm sorry - but this is one of the most foolish things I've ever heard of.

And right after reading these articles, I came across another "controversy" - is it wrong for young children to pretend they are breastfeeding their dolls and stuffed animals? Read the discussion here: http://theleakyboob.com/2011/05/are-children-who-pretend-to-breastfeed-their-toys-in-danger/

Are people seriously concerned about this?! Miss Paige imitates everything I do - you should see her pretend to talk on a cell phone! It's hilarious! The other day she got a hold of a makeup brush and started imitating me putting on bronzer. And when Lil D is born in just a few weeks, I expect Miss Paige to most likely imitate me breastfeeding him (fingers crossed that it works this time around!!) with her own dolls and stuffed toys. It's just the way kids are - they imitate their parents as they learn and grow. I really can't believe people have a problem with it. I just don't get it.

I have to wonder if the lawmakers of Forest Park, GA really equate breastfeeding with sexual exhibitionism? And people who are uncomfortable with children imitating their mothers breastfeeding really see it as over-sexualization of our youth? According to their actions, they do. Since when is breastfeeding sexual?? Push up padded string bikini tops for 7 year olds? Definitely attempting to sexualize children. Breastfeeding? No way. Getting 7 year old to worry about firming their butts and thighs? Unnatural and unhealthy. Watching a mom breastfeed her baby? The most natural and healthy act a child can witness a mother do. Shooting a child's face up with poison? INSANE! Shooting breastmilk all over your child's face while trying to nurse? Hehe... just kidding. I was trying to keep the comparisons going : )

Even though I wasn't able to breastfeed Miss Paige and began using formula after a few weeks of failed attempts to nurse, I still see the value in breastfeeding and respect all the mamas out there who are able to offer their children such a gift. And mamas who couldn't breastfeed for any number of reasons (like me) or made a choice not to - I respect you too! Because being a mama is hard work. We need to respect each other and support the choices of our fellow mamas - and fight against the craziness that tries to tear us apart.

Can I get an Amen? : )

Two Days, Two Massive Mama Meltdowns

There have been two major meltdowns over the last two days. And I wish I could say I'm talking about Miss Paige. But I can't. It was me. Two seemingly small and inconsequential happenings managed to push this mama over the edge. There was screaming. There was fury. There were tears. So what were these most devastating circumstances? Well - one involved pasta, and the other involved poop. Pasta and poop brought this mama to the edge of sanity. 

Incident 1: The Case of the Missing Pasta
Yesterday I decided Paige and I needed to bust out of the house. These outings usually involve shopping and impulse buys. I knew my bank account couldn't handle the hit this month, so I decided we would drive around town and get a bite to eat for lunch. All was good in the world. Paige and I were singing the classics (you know... Row, Row, Row Your Boat, If You're Happy And You Know It, and our all time favorite - There's a Hole on the Bottom of the Sea) as we drove around aimlessly. Finally I decided we would go to lunch at a place called FIGO. Not sure if it is a national chain, but there are a few of them around the Atlanta area. It's one of those places where you stand in line, order, then sit down and wait for them to bring over your food. A step above Fast Food,  a step below Sit-Down Restaurant. So we ordered our pasta, sat down, and waited. And waited. And waited. I was busy keeping Paige occupied so I didn't really realize how long it had been. Usually these places take no more than 5-10 minutes to bring out your food. After looking around, I realized that people who came in after us not only had already been served, but were leaving because they were already finished! I flagged over a server and asked her if our food would be out soon - still calm and collected, even as Paige's patience was beginning to run thin. And that's when it happened... I saw the server approach the cook (it's one of those "open dining" situations where you can clearly see into the kitchen), and then saw him pull a dish of pasta up from UNDER THE COUNTER and hand it to her. And you all know exactly what I mean when I say "under the counter"... like it had been ready a long time ago, no server took it, so they pulled it from the serving rack and pushed it off to the side. As she began to carry this plate towards our table, I literally lost my mind. Forget the 30 or so other people dining. Forget the fact that it was an honest mistake. Forget the fact that I had a 17 month old with me, and happened to be 35 weeks prego. My mind was long gone at this point and I was on the verge of meltdown. I jumped up with the speed of a cheetah, grabbed Paige, her sippy cup and my purse in one fowl swoop and with a louder than necessary voice, I said, "Are you kidding me? You are going to feed a pregnant woman and her child food that has been sitting there for 45 minutes or more?!" The server - who was probably around 17 - looked at me with fear in her eyes. And then the kicker... "This place is disgusting! You are disgusting! This is the worst experience OF MY LIFE!!!" : ) Did I ever tell you all that I have a flare for the dramatic? However, I wasn't done with my rampage just yet. I marched up to the counter... past the line of customers waiting to order... and demanded a refund. Of course they obliged (probably with one hand on the phone to dial security) and refunded my $13.76. Still fuming, I turned around to leave and heard the manager say, "We're really sorry about this. I'm not sure how it happened..." to which I responded, "You should be sorry! Making a child and pregnant woman wait for an hour... You should be ashamed of yourselves. I will NEVER BE BACK AGAIN!" And off I went. By the time we got to the car I was in tears. In tears over pasta. Paige was kissing my cheek and giving me hugs - even she knew I was in the middle of a meltdown and figured she should keep a low profile. We ended up getting Wendy's at the drive thru, went home to eat, and took naps. The second half of the day was much less eventful : )

Incident 2: A Poopy Puppy
Starting about 2 weeks ago, I've been going to the OB twice a week for monitoring. On Tuesdays I go to the regular OB for the NST (Non-Stress Test) where they hook me up to the monitors to track the baby's heartbeat and whether or not I'm having contractions. On Fridays I go to the Maternal-Fetal Specialists for a BPP (Bio-Physical Profile) where they do an ultrasound and evaluate. So far, these appointments have been going well. But today, the appointment took longer than normal because Lil D wasn't cooperating. On the NST, they look for the baby's heartbeat to "accelerate" at least 4 or 5 times in 20 minutes. Lil D was kicking around, but there wasn't much of an acceleration. The same thing used to happen with Miss Paige on these tests. So 60 minutes in, they decide I need to guzzle some apple juice and eat peanut butter crackers to try and get him moving more. I knew nothing was wrong with him, and tried to explain that I just have very chill babies. Obviously, that wasn't going to fly with them, so I sat for a while longer until Lil D FINALLY gave them the acceleration they needed to set me free. When I got home, I was already feeling a little upset because I knew Daniel was having to wait for me to get home before he could leave for work. As I walked in the door, I was greeted by Lenni Lulu. And her stench. And as I reached down to pet her, I saw it... Poop. Lots of poop. Mixed with mud. All over her. I started to gag and called for Daniel. He told me that she had run away into the woods when he let her out that morning, and went right into her kennel as punishment when she came back home. He had just let her out when he heard me pull in. Obviously, he hadn't taken a good look at her (which is understandable given the fact he was watching/changing/feeding Paige). And at this point, surprisingly, I was still somewhat calm. Daniel carried Lenni up to the bathtub and I began to scrub her down. And that's when I lost it. The smell of poop, combined with my stressful morning just set me off. I started screaming. And crying. And pounding on the side of the tub. It was a full on prego tantrum. Daniel hopped out of the shower to try and comfort me, but one look at the pittifulness and he knew I was a lost cause at the moment. Luckily, Paige went down for a nap and I had a few moments to myself to relax and recover with my S'More Pop Tarts and an episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. Nothing heals a prego soul like chocolate and crazy. Daniel texted me around noon with this message: "All clear on the Western front? Love you!" He is obviously used to the hormones.

So I think my family is bracing for Day 3. But I'm determined to not lose my mind three days in a row. I let you know if I'm successful... : )